Read Online The Siege by Rick Hautala - Free Book Online
Authors: Rick Hautala
Tags: Horror
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pushed his hat back on his head, exposing thin, brown hair that looked like it needed a good wash.
“A-yuh,” he said, heaving himself up in his chair but not bothering to stand.
“I was wondering if you could tell me where I might find a room for the night.”
The man leaned back and scratched the underside of his unshaven jowls. His eyes remained half-closed as though in deep thought or half-sleep. For a moment, Dale thought he was trying to ignore him.
“Well,” he said, drawing out the word as if it was the required way to respond to an out-of-towner. “If yah come up 2-A, you must’a passed the Twin Oaks Motel right outside ’a Haynesville.”
Dale shook his head. “We drove down from Houlton. I was hoping, to find someplace right here in town, though.”
The man shifted forward again, and Dale thought for an instant that he was actually going to bother to stand up, but he merely leaned forward and hitched his thumb in the direction of the road leading back to Houlton. He looked down the road, as if to assure himself it hadn’t disappeared while he was napping.
“Just ’crost the street up there, on your right, didn’t you see the sign for Appleby’s?”
Dale glanced quickly at Angie, and they exchanged shrugs.
“Lil Appleby rents out a couple of rooms, ’specially now with harvest comin’ up. I dunno. Maybe she ain’t got any right now. You might wanna check there first.”
“Okay, thanks,” Dale said, shifting the car into gear and starting to pull away slowly.
Now that the man was fully awake, though, he didn’t seem to want to let him go. With a loud grunt, he hoisted himself to his feet and waddled over to the car. He leaned down close to the window and glanced over at Angie, who shifted uncomfortably.
“If Mrs. A. don’t have any rooms left, I’d say your best bet was to head back to Houlton. If you don’t mind me askin’, what you want to stay in a town like this for?”
Dale felt a tingling tension in his stomach, and as the words formed in his mind, his eyes began to sting.
“Well, uh, a friend of mine died and we’ve come up for the funeral.”
“Umm, yeah. Larry Cole, right?” the man said, nodding his head slowly up and down. His eyes squinted tighter, making him look all the more pig-like. “Pity somethin’ like that could happen, and to a nice fella like Larry. Shit!”
“Yeah, well—thanks,” Dale said. Without another word, he pulled out into the street. Less than half a mile down the road, they saw a sign in front of a large, white house: APPLEBY’S BED AND BREAKFAST. ROOMS BY THE DAY AND WEEK. Although there was a wide driveway leading up behind the house, Dale pulled up to the curb in front of the house and parked in the shade of a tall blue spruce.
The house sat on a slight rise well back from the road. It was a towering, three-story Victorian painted white with black shutters and trim. All along in front of the house and lining the walkway up to the front door were carefully tended garden plots, still bursting with color even this late in the summer. Obviously, someone knew how to plan and care for the flowers. Sidelight windows surrounded the heavy door. On the left side of the house was a large bay window, and as Dale and Angie looked up at the house, they saw the silhouette of someone standing there, looking out at them.
“They don’t have a ‘no vacancy’ sign out,” Dale said. “Maybe we’re in luck.” He was glancing at Angie, trying to gauge her reaction, but her face remained passive. She’s not even listening to me , he thought. She’s still thinking about Larry .
As they got out of the car and started up toward the front door, the silhouette in the front window drew away and disappeared. Dale pressed the doorbell button, and from deep within the house, they heard a faint “ding-dong.”
“Avon calling,” Angie said, chuckling under her breath. They were both snickering when they heard footsteps approach the door and saw
“A-yuh,” he said, heaving himself up in his chair but not bothering to stand.
“I was wondering if you could tell me where I might find a room for the night.”
The man leaned back and scratched the underside of his unshaven jowls. His eyes remained half-closed as though in deep thought or half-sleep. For a moment, Dale thought he was trying to ignore him.
“Well,” he said, drawing out the word as if it was the required way to respond to an out-of-towner. “If yah come up 2-A, you must’a passed the Twin Oaks Motel right outside ’a Haynesville.”
Dale shook his head. “We drove down from Houlton. I was hoping, to find someplace right here in town, though.”
The man shifted forward again, and Dale thought for an instant that he was actually going to bother to stand up, but he merely leaned forward and hitched his thumb in the direction of the road leading back to Houlton. He looked down the road, as if to assure himself it hadn’t disappeared while he was napping.
“Just ’crost the street up there, on your right, didn’t you see the sign for Appleby’s?”
Dale glanced quickly at Angie, and they exchanged shrugs.
“Lil Appleby rents out a couple of rooms, ’specially now with harvest comin’ up. I dunno. Maybe she ain’t got any right now. You might wanna check there first.”
“Okay, thanks,” Dale said, shifting the car into gear and starting to pull away slowly.
Now that the man was fully awake, though, he didn’t seem to want to let him go. With a loud grunt, he hoisted himself to his feet and waddled over to the car. He leaned down close to the window and glanced over at Angie, who shifted uncomfortably.
“If Mrs. A. don’t have any rooms left, I’d say your best bet was to head back to Houlton. If you don’t mind me askin’, what you want to stay in a town like this for?”
Dale felt a tingling tension in his stomach, and as the words formed in his mind, his eyes began to sting.
“Well, uh, a friend of mine died and we’ve come up for the funeral.”
“Umm, yeah. Larry Cole, right?” the man said, nodding his head slowly up and down. His eyes squinted tighter, making him look all the more pig-like. “Pity somethin’ like that could happen, and to a nice fella like Larry. Shit!”
“Yeah, well—thanks,” Dale said. Without another word, he pulled out into the street. Less than half a mile down the road, they saw a sign in front of a large, white house: APPLEBY’S BED AND BREAKFAST. ROOMS BY THE DAY AND WEEK. Although there was a wide driveway leading up behind the house, Dale pulled up to the curb in front of the house and parked in the shade of a tall blue spruce.
The house sat on a slight rise well back from the road. It was a towering, three-story Victorian painted white with black shutters and trim. All along in front of the house and lining the walkway up to the front door were carefully tended garden plots, still bursting with color even this late in the summer. Obviously, someone knew how to plan and care for the flowers. Sidelight windows surrounded the heavy door. On the left side of the house was a large bay window, and as Dale and Angie looked up at the house, they saw the silhouette of someone standing there, looking out at them.
“They don’t have a ‘no vacancy’ sign out,” Dale said. “Maybe we’re in luck.” He was glancing at Angie, trying to gauge her reaction, but her face remained passive. She’s not even listening to me , he thought. She’s still thinking about Larry .
As they got out of the car and started up toward the front door, the silhouette in the front window drew away and disappeared. Dale pressed the doorbell button, and from deep within the house, they heard a faint “ding-dong.”
“Avon calling,” Angie said, chuckling under her breath. They were both snickering when they heard footsteps approach the door and saw
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