The Hunt for Tyrell Banks

Chapter 35 - Who's there

We stood outside, watching as the snow melted into puddles by the poolside and indiscernible clumps on the lawn.

Dad rubbed his face. "Increíble," he said softly. He bent down and touched the snow, rubbed it between his fingers. "It's real. It's real snow."

"Jean," Riley said slowly, "the snow is the least ridiculous part of what happened here tonight. You can still see the marks on the ground, yeah?"

"Yes, Riley, I can. Although... could some just be melting snow? Like that one over there?" He pointed by the deck chair, where a large circle was forming as the snow dissipated.

"Dad, Riley and I saw the thing that made these prints," I said, "and we saw the state of the place before it started melting. You can still kind of make out the pattern, right? Like that one you're pointing at, see how there's another, like, three feet away, and another after that? Heading around the side of the house?"

The security guard on duty came around the side, his flashlight lighting up the snow in brilliant patches. "Front side's all clear, Mr. Warrick, Mr. Hutchins, sirs," he said. "Gee, I've never heard of it snowin' this way before. I mean, in the hills, yeah, but Southmore? Never in my life."

Riley prodded at a fast-melting clump with one foot. The snow was almost all gone now, leaving a sodden lawn and a wet, slippery poolside deck. "Did it snow down by the guardhouse?" he asked.

The guard shook his head. "Nope, but looked like it snowed over the house like this," he said, drawing a circle in the air with his free hand. "I dunno, maybe it's not snow? Could be some kinda fire retardant or high altitude thing from an aircraft, or sum'n. Remember when that plane engine came down a few years ago, out Colorado ways?"

Dad stood up, his knees popping like firecrackers. "Yes, as a matter of fact I do," he said calmly, as though discussing something abstract rather than the outright weirdness in front of us. "And I do believe you are correct, Gary – it is Gary, right?"

The guard nodded. "Yessir."

"Well, Gary, we are along the southern flight path for LAX, so a plane de-icing at altitude is the most likely explanation."

"It could be from the aircraft septic tank," Riley said casually.

"Ew, Riles, that's gross!" I exclaimed, and I watched as the guard begin gingerly tip-toeing towards the deck, now trying avoiding the snow he'd just been trampling through.

"I highly doubt that, Riley," dad said curtly. "But it might pay to get Public Health up here in the morning to assess the circumstances nonetheless." He turned to the guard. "Thanks for your help, Gary."

"M'pleasure," the guard said, and he turned to walk back around the house, steering well clear of the snow remnants that were already much smaller than before.

The three of us went back inside, and dad closed the patio slider behind us. "So it was a monster?"

I nodded vigorously. "It was huge, dad. Like a bear, but, like, bigger, maybe. When it came up close, like, to the window, we couldn't see its body. Just its head."

"And ... it resembled a spider?"

"It had spider-like features, Jean," Riley said. He rubbed at his face, looking as though he had aged ten years in the last hour. "Like Hanna mentioned, we just saw the bloody thing's head. And I'm quite certain it could have barged through the window if it wanted. Not an ounce of fear in those monstrous eyes."

"Hmm." Dad seemed remarkably detached about the whole thing.

"I think," I said slowly, "that it was toying with us."