The Nightmare People

1.

“The sixteenth,” Smith said, looking at the calendar. “It’ll be full on the sixteenth.”

“Today is the ninth, yes?” Khalil asked.

“Yes.”

“Then we have one week.”

Smith nodded.

Khalil shook his head. “In one week, we cannot kill a hundred and forty-two. Our stomachs would not take it.”

Smith managed a sickly grin. He was sitting up in bed after a long night of nausea. “You’re telling me,” he said.

“We do not even know where all of them are,” Khalil pointed out. “I do not believe that they have all remained in the apartments.”

“I know,” Smith agreed. “At the very least, there’s the one that wanted me, that got Elias’s father. I don’t know if it’s still in the same skin, or if it moved on into someone else.”

Khalil nodded.

Annie stuck her head in the bedroom door. “How are you feeling, Mr. Smith?” she asked.

“Much better, Ms. McGowan, thanks.”

“Oh, call me Annie,” she said. “After all, if you’re going to be staying here…” She didn’t finish the sentence.

“And you can call me Ed, if you like,” Smith said.

She shook her head. “I’ll try,” she said, “but you don’t look like an Ed.” She stepped into the room and looked around.

“All these computers!” she marvelled.

“It’s just two computers, really,” Smith explained. “It’s just that the Deskpro isn’t assembled yet.”

“Oh,” she said, staring at the clutter he and Khalil had strewn throughout her spotless guest room.

Khalil had done most of the work; Smith had been too sick. They had gotten everything from his car and motel room and brought it all to Annie McGowan’s guest room.

Smith had paid the bill at the Red Roof Inn, and had not been at all happy to see the total he put on his MasterCard.

They had made no attempt to collect anything from his old apartment. From Khalil’s apartment they had retrieved only two changes of clothing, some toiletries, and two switchblades. Khalil kept one; Smith borrowed the other.

“What about the couch?” Smith asked, hoping to distract Annie from her unwanted new housemates.

She frowned, and Smith realized he was only making it worse.

“That stuff doesn’t seem to come out,” she said, “And of course there are all the tears in the cushions…”

“Ruined, huh?” Smith asked sympathetically. “Don’t worry, Annie, we’ll buy you a new one. Really. I’m really sorry about it all.”

“Oh, it’s not your fault,” she said, waving the matter away.

“I know,” Smith said, “but we’ll buy you a new one, I promise. Hey, what time is it?”

Khalil glanced at his watch. “9:40,” he said.

“Annie,” Smith said, “May I use your phone? I’ve got to call my boss, tell him I won’t be in today.”

“Of course,” she said.