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Book: The Lost: Book Two, The Eddie McCloskey Series (The Unearthed 2) by Evan Ronan
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Authors: Evan Ronan
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enough to drown out all other sound near the shack. Tucked away in a copse of trees, Eddie spotted a homemade fountain gurgling a weak stream of water. He stopped five paces from the front door and squinted his eyes to see better.
It seemed pitch black inside the shack, and the generator blocked out any noise Hollis might have been making.
Eddie looked back once at Ana. Her fingers were wrapped tightly around the steering wheel at eleven and one. He wondered where this ranked among his list of all-time bad decisions.
Ana waved at him to come back.
Eddie turned back around and eyed Hollis’s shotgun, leaning up against the shack. It wasn’t loaded but it made a better weapon than his bare hands. But he decided against it. Hollis might have really armed himself inside and any suspect moves by Eddie would probably earn him two slugs to the chest and a trip to the morgue.
Eddie walked forward, staring into the gaping darkness of the shack.
He stopped in the doorway. Waited a moment to see if Hollis would call to him in the darkness. But he heard nothing except the faint sound of music and the annoying whir of the generator outside.
“Mr. Hollis?”
“Right in front of you.”
Eddie jumped backward and Hollis cackled. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light in the cabin, Eddie could make out the silhouette of Hollis.
The shadow that was Hollis shifted forward, and the old man’s weather-beaten face came into view under the grey light eeking through the grimy window next to him. Eddie’s eyes adjusted more. Hollis sat at a small crooked table. There were things scattered around the floor, the inside of the shack a mess, matching the outside. Eddie knew that style. It was called Early American Cluster Fuck.
Heart still in his throat, Eddie said, “Mind if I come in?”
“Get the fuck in here and shut the door, it’s cold.”
Hollis reached to the floor and Eddie feared he was going for a weapon but then an old space heater rattled on.
Eddie left the front door cracked because he could barely see.
Hollis drank from a bottle of something that looked suspiciously like moonshine. “I was taking a nap, that’s why it’s so dark in here. I get migraines.”
Eddie found an ancient chair and took a seat, hoping he wouldn’t stick to it.
The music he’d heard a few moments ago came back. It was a Steve Miller Band album. A record player spun somewhere. The needle jumped twice but the song kept playing.
This scene had all the earmarks of a bad dream.
“You’re here about Tessa?” Hollis asked.
“That’s right.”
Hollis took another swig of moonshine. “I bet you wanna hear about the water then.”
Eddie had no idea what Hollis was talking about but decided to let it play out like Tim would have.
“That’s one of the reasons I’m here.”
Hollis leaned forward. “You wanna tell me how you know about the water, Mister Eddie, beings I haven’t mentioned it to a soul?”
Uh-oh . “Some strange things are happening in this town and some of them involve water.”
Hollis leaned back in his seat and lapsed into a suspicious silence.
Eddie returned the old man’s stare. The seconds ticked by and still Hollis didn’t look away. The stare-off wasn’t unusual to Eddie. In prison it happened often. If you looked away you were inviting some goon to make you his girlfriend. So Eddie kept his eyes glued to Hollis’s, and stayed quieter than a silent film actor.
They held each other’s gaze like they couldn’t look away. Eddie was starting to get creeped out. No sane man eyeballed someone else this long. He pictured Ana in the car and wondered why he wasn’t in it with her.
Then something beeped and Eddie nearly jumped out of his seat.
Hollis brought a wrist up into the weak light and looked down at an old watch.
“Time for my meds.”
Hollis didn’t need to move. A pill organizer sat on the table in front of him. He opened one of the Thursday compartments and poured out a few pills and shoved
It seemed pitch black inside the shack, and the generator blocked out any noise Hollis might have been making.
Eddie looked back once at Ana. Her fingers were wrapped tightly around the steering wheel at eleven and one. He wondered where this ranked among his list of all-time bad decisions.
Ana waved at him to come back.
Eddie turned back around and eyed Hollis’s shotgun, leaning up against the shack. It wasn’t loaded but it made a better weapon than his bare hands. But he decided against it. Hollis might have really armed himself inside and any suspect moves by Eddie would probably earn him two slugs to the chest and a trip to the morgue.
Eddie walked forward, staring into the gaping darkness of the shack.
He stopped in the doorway. Waited a moment to see if Hollis would call to him in the darkness. But he heard nothing except the faint sound of music and the annoying whir of the generator outside.
“Mr. Hollis?”
“Right in front of you.”
Eddie jumped backward and Hollis cackled. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light in the cabin, Eddie could make out the silhouette of Hollis.
The shadow that was Hollis shifted forward, and the old man’s weather-beaten face came into view under the grey light eeking through the grimy window next to him. Eddie’s eyes adjusted more. Hollis sat at a small crooked table. There were things scattered around the floor, the inside of the shack a mess, matching the outside. Eddie knew that style. It was called Early American Cluster Fuck.
Heart still in his throat, Eddie said, “Mind if I come in?”
“Get the fuck in here and shut the door, it’s cold.”
Hollis reached to the floor and Eddie feared he was going for a weapon but then an old space heater rattled on.
Eddie left the front door cracked because he could barely see.
Hollis drank from a bottle of something that looked suspiciously like moonshine. “I was taking a nap, that’s why it’s so dark in here. I get migraines.”
Eddie found an ancient chair and took a seat, hoping he wouldn’t stick to it.
The music he’d heard a few moments ago came back. It was a Steve Miller Band album. A record player spun somewhere. The needle jumped twice but the song kept playing.
This scene had all the earmarks of a bad dream.
“You’re here about Tessa?” Hollis asked.
“That’s right.”
Hollis took another swig of moonshine. “I bet you wanna hear about the water then.”
Eddie had no idea what Hollis was talking about but decided to let it play out like Tim would have.
“That’s one of the reasons I’m here.”
Hollis leaned forward. “You wanna tell me how you know about the water, Mister Eddie, beings I haven’t mentioned it to a soul?”
Uh-oh . “Some strange things are happening in this town and some of them involve water.”
Hollis leaned back in his seat and lapsed into a suspicious silence.
Eddie returned the old man’s stare. The seconds ticked by and still Hollis didn’t look away. The stare-off wasn’t unusual to Eddie. In prison it happened often. If you looked away you were inviting some goon to make you his girlfriend. So Eddie kept his eyes glued to Hollis’s, and stayed quieter than a silent film actor.
They held each other’s gaze like they couldn’t look away. Eddie was starting to get creeped out. No sane man eyeballed someone else this long. He pictured Ana in the car and wondered why he wasn’t in it with her.
Then something beeped and Eddie nearly jumped out of his seat.
Hollis brought a wrist up into the weak light and looked down at an old watch.
“Time for my meds.”
Hollis didn’t need to move. A pill organizer sat on the table in front of him. He opened one of the Thursday compartments and poured out a few pills and shoved
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