PROLOGUE
Tessa rustled her key in the lock, not really concerned if it woke up poor old Jimmy, even at this ungodly hour. She should have known Jimmy would forget to put the trash out again. She was rapidly getting fed up with his mistakes. How hard was it to remember a simple task? Every Thursday night, wheel the trash out to the curb. That was it. She wasn’t exactly asking him to build a temple. While she was working her backside off at the hospital, Jimmy was probably sitting around, researching antiques, as he often claimed. Although in the next breath, he was always quick to say that he was winding down until retirement. Make up your damn mind, she wanted to tell him.
Tessa stepped inside her house, deciding to leave the trash uncollected. Maybe that would teach him. Then again, maybe not. After twenty years of marriage, could you still teach an old husband new tricks?
That was a question for another day. Right now, the question was what to do with the single hour she had before sleep beckoned. She kicked off her work shoes, opened the fridge and stared blankly at its contents, not taking a fancy to anything inside. She didn’t have the energy to make a sandwich. Was it going to be the classic berries and cheese? Or was that a bad idea? One of the other nurses once told her that cheese before bed gave you nightmares, and she didn’t need any more of those.
Forget it. Decaf and trash television was the easiest route. She left the kitchen and walked into the living area, and there she sensed another soul in the room. She instinctively reached for the light switch but stopped herself from turning it on. She saw the silhouette of her beloved husband, passed out in the chair, crumpled blanket lying at his feet. Tessa sighed, realizing that an hour in front of the TV was a no-go. If she woke Jimmy up, he’d be a miserable trout until at least tomorrow afternoon. She didn’t need that.
Forget it. May as well hit the hay. Tessa gently opened the living room door, careful not to disturb her snoozing husband, half out of genuine affection and half for the fact she’d get the bed to herself. She left her bag on the couch as a sign of her safe arrival back home. Not only that, but it might persuade Jimmy to spend the night downstairs and give her some peace too.
Tessa hit the bathroom and rubbed off the little makeup she had on. She changed out of her uniform and brushed away the stale taste of twelve hours of giving instructions. Over the sink, she looked out of the window and admired the night. There was something about returning home in the early hours of the morning that really played havoc with the senses. While everyone else slept, you were on the front lines, keeping the world moving. It was enough to give weaker minds a hero complex.
She sat down on the toilet as she re-applied her ponytail but stopped as she reached the third and final knot.
A noise. Some kind of scratching. Or a rustling? It seemed to come from behind.
Tessa jerked her head towards the windowsill and took a step back out of fear of what she might find. She glanced between the gaps in her lotion bottles, then found the culprit. A small box that once housed moisturizer had tipped over. When she reached out to grab it, she felt the draft from the window gap graze her fingertips.
Jimmy had left the window ajar, again. She was sick of telling him about that. The breeze must have knocked the empty box over, and why was there an empty box here anyway? She couldn’t blame her husband for that. That was her doing.
She pulled the window shut, sat down and returned to her pre-sleep ritual. She got the ponytail back in and then searched for the anti-wrinkle cream.
But before she landed on it, the noise came again. Scratching, or crunching. It was difficult to place. Could it be the water rushing through the pipes? Maybe the toilet was acting up again? Suddenly, she jerked her hand back when the sound seemed to emerge right from her fingertips.
Tessa rushed back to the door in panic. The noise became louder, more frantic. She didn’t know what it was, but she was certain it was the sound of something alive.
Then, like a ghoul rising from the depths of hell, the source of the noise made itself known.
A black smudge, fluttering and flapping, rose from between her lotion bottles and flung itself towards the bathroom light.
“Agh, Jesus Christ,” Tessa yelled as she retreated out into the hallway. She peered through a gap, unable to take her eyes off the thing. Like a miniature dragon, the creature beat its wings furiously while it clashed with the glaring light: a battle that would only yield one winner. But it didn’t stop the beast from trying.
What was it? A moth? One of those giant moths that had emigrated from down under and settled in Delaware of all places? Whatever it was, it looked like an omen of death. Big, furry, black as charcoal. Tessa pulled the door shut, trapping the beast inside her small bathroom. Those things made her feel queasy, and if the creature had to die so she could sleep, so be it.
She had to laugh. She’d shut the window. If she’d have left it open, the thing might have had an escape route. Now it was her unwanted prisoner, and there was no way she was heading back in to face it.
This was a Jimmy situation, she decided. He was the designated insect-killer in the house. That had been established from day one. Tessa headed back downstairs with heavy footsteps, hoping it would jolt Jimmy awake before she got there.
It didn’t. The living room was still darkened but she made out Jimmy’s form sprawled in the same position as before.
“Jim,” she said, slightly above a whisper. “Jimmy. Wake up.”
Nothing.
“Hey, Jim. We have a problem.”
Nope. Dead to the world. Time to go nuclear.
Tessa moved over to him and fondled his leg. He was cold, almost icy. She shook him again. “Jim, get up. I need you.”
There was no muscle response, no reaction from his nerve endings. How could he sleep so deeply when she could be woken up by a cooing pigeon? Some people get all the luck.
“Jimmy,” she said, louder this time. She squeezed his leg a little harder, digging in a portion of fingernail.
Not a thing.
Tessa felt the air leave her lungs. Her brow began to burn with sweat. This wasn’t normal, even for Jimmy.
She grabbed his hand. Cold as winter frost. She shook him, enough to jerk anyone back to consciousness. There was nothing. Tessa grabbed Jimmy’s face with both hands, feeling cold flesh, rough skin and, to her dread, something wet.
In the gloom, she saw something in Jimmy’s eyes. They looked shut, but there was a shine emanating from them, as though they were both tunnels leading directly to the afterlife.
Her vision adjusted to the darkness in panic. Tessa jumped to her feet, her first thought being that she had thirty years of medical training to draw on. Her husband was fit and healthy. He had plenty more years left in him. This couldn’t be happening.
Tessa rushed over to the wall and searched for the light switch with trembling hands. She found it, but her fingers wouldn’t let herself push it. Doing so would bring this horror to life, and something told her it was a moment she’d remember for the rest of her days regardless of how it played out.
Light cast the room in bright yellow.
Tessa’s hands shot to her mouth but did nothing to stop her screams.
All her energy left her body and she felt to her knees in hopelessness. This was nothing her medical training could fix. No one could fix this. Even the most masterful surgeon would consider this a lost cause on sight.