The Key Chased the Blade

"Jesus Christ," I said. "What the hell is that?"

It wasn't a banshee. It was a person. It was a big person, and they were dressed in a heavy hooded sweatshirt and baggy pants, so I couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl. Their face was shrouded in the hood and they weren't facing us. Whoever it was, it was looking at the house.

"It's probably just a homeless guy," Simon whispered and drew the flashlight down. "He's probably crazy. We'd better leave before we scare him or something."

"Scare him?" I hissed. "He scared the bejeezus outta us!"

Simon took me by the arm, and I knew by then it was time for me to shut up. He started pulling me down the street. I didn't resist.

"I guess we'll just have to go banshee hunting another night," Simon murmured. "We're not going into the yard with him there. That guy just gives me the creeps."

"No kidding." Then I heard a creak and a slam! like a metal gate being opened and closed. I realized that it was from Sadie's house. The guy had went through the gate. "Jesus Christ!" I swore some more.

"Come on. Don't look back." Simon gripped onto my arm and we walked faster. My flashlight was slick with sweat despite the cold and snow. It was falling harder and it stuck onto the pavement. I said all the bad words in the book before we got to the streetsign on the corner. It said Alder Street and Manchester Road. Simon's house was just a ways away. "C'mon, Noah, let's go a bit faster."

Simon was really scared. "Turn off the flashlight," I said and I clicked off mine. Simon did the same. We plunged into darkness. "We're going to be fine, okay?" I said, but I wasn't so sure about that. I could only see the light from the streetlamps and the areas they illuminated. Simon and I pressed onward. Then I heard heavy footsteps crunching into the snow behind us.

"Oh shit, he's following us!" I hissed.

Simon didn't say anything and picked up his pace. I nearly slipped on the ice. This was just what we needed: some crazy hobo following us in the dead of night. Dad was right. There was a legitimate reason he wouldn't let me outside this late.

My ribs started to ache. "Crap, Simon," I gasped. "Are we close to your house?"

I heard the footsteps behind us quicken.

"Oh no no no no no." Simon tightened his grip on me until it started to hurt. "C'mon, Noah, we're running, now."

We broke into a run. This time I swear I nearly slipped and fell. The only thing keeping me going was the sound of the heavy footfalls behind us. The man behind us was running too.

"Go go go!" I shrieked, and we full out sprinted. The streetlamps were a blur and snow struck my face like icy pins. My chest was burning. The only thing I could focus on was Simon's hand on my arm. I didn't know where I was going. I almost slammed up against Simon's house before I realized we were there.

"Go, Noah, go up!" Simon pushed me up the ivy. I grabbed a fistful and hauled myself upward. Just one hand after another. Vines snagged and cut my palms, but I didn't care. I heard Simon right behind me. Once I got to the roof I heaved myself over the gutter, only to almost slide back down from the blanket of snow. But I managed to stay put. I twisted, grabbed Simon's arms, and helped him up with me. Simon gasped for a breath and turned on his flashlight down to the bottom of the yard. Thankfully no one was there.

"Jesus, look there!" I swore.

I saw a looming figure under the streetlamp right in front of Simon's house. It was the same man from before, but he wasn't moving. He was just staring. He looked like a shadowy wraith from where he stood. Jesus Christ.

"We've gotta call the cops or something," I breathed.

"No." Simon's voice startled me. He was dead serious. "Not now. Let's wait until he does something."

I wanted to protest, but for some reason, I didn't. I waited. The guy didn't move for minutes. He just stood there frozen like a statue the entire time. The snow began to create a layer of white over his clothing. I bumped Simon's arm to get his attention.

"He's not doing anything," I said. My heart was pounding in my ears.

"Wait!" Simon whispered.

I looked back and saw the man start to move. He turned slowly on his heel, the crunch in the ice audible even from our distance, and then he began to walk away. Simon and I waited in the agonizingly long seconds when he finally disappeared from our sight.

"God, that probably was a crazy hobo," I said.

"Definitely," Simon murmured. Then he turned to me. Snowflakes were caught in his hair. "Let's get back inside."