Jenny's Secret



  Jenny’s Secret

  Previously released as The Wall

  2nd Publication

  A Publication of Jezri’s Nightmares

   

  First publication 2013

  All rights reserved

  Copyright ©2011 by Lisa McCourt Hollar

   

   

  Jezri’s Nightmares

  https://www.lisamccourthollar.com

  This book may not be reproduced in any way.

  Jenny’s Secret

  By Lisa McCourt Hollar

  CLUSTERING AT THE TOP OF THE WALL, bugs were converging like zombies at an all you can eat buffet, a society of creepy crawlers dining on whatever sustenance they had found. Their tiny insect feet produced little skittering sounds as they scurried about their business. Feeling anxious, and with nausea building, my stomach lurched while the horde crawled in and out of the overnight crack in the wall. Behind the flimsy barrier, there was sure to be a virtual city of the beasties with bug poo encrusting the boards and wiring running along the inside.

  I really have to call an exterminator.

  Continuing to drink my coffee and eat my eggs, I watched the disgusting little soldiers scramble over each other. I didn’t want to share my home with these creatures, but for the moment I was stymied. Indeed, I would’ve made a call then and there, save for what else lay behind the wall.

  My hand was actually on the phone when the thought came, a voice I hadn’t heard in a long time: What do you reckon they’re feeding on … a dead rat?

  “Oh, Lord,” I whispered. “I forgot all about you.”

  Well I haven’t forgotten. Go ahead and call. Let the exterminators see exactly what you’ve done!

  More bugs came crawling out of the cracks.

  “This is ridiculous,” I said even louder. “George is not talking to me.” Sighing, I took one more look at the bugs and then heard George chuckling in my head. “Maybe I can’t call the exterminator, but I’ll be damned before putting up with this.”

  Minutes later, I was at Joe’s Convenience Store, the only store in this godforsaken town, which made its prices anything but convenient.

  “Mornin’, Jenny,” Joe said as I breezed in, and not even raising an eyebrow at my pajamas, a sight not uncommon with many of our intimate town’s early morning shoppers.

  “Mornin’.” Joe had been after me for years, trying to get into my pants ever since my no good husband took off with his wife.

  “The way I see it,” he would say, “with George taking Sally, I might as well have you. Fair trade, don’tcha think?”

  I did not. “Seems to me, if your wife wasn’t happy, why would I want her scrap?”

  Undaunted, he continued: Same both ways. George didn’t run off because you’re all sunshine and lollipops.”

  “S’pose not,” I said. “But he’s gone and I’m not complaining. Also not in a hurry to replace him, either.”

  That had been three years ago, and the old coot still hadn’t given up. In truth, I found his advances flattering. He was considered quite the catch by the women at church, but I had plans of my own and they didn’t include marriage. Joe was relentless, though, and every time I went in there he would try and talk me into hitchin’ up, as if I might be persuaded to trade a pain in the ass for a pain in the back.

  “Can I help you find something?”

  With Joe standing only a few paces behind me, I could all but feel his eyes roaming up and down my backside. I’d forgotten how shear my sleepwear was, and to top things off, I’d come in commando. “Just need to buy some bug poison.”

  “Bugs? Depending on the kind, those can be some nasty creatures. I’ll be glad to come help you; after all, I am a licensed exterminator.”

  “How could I have forgotten?” I continued down the aisle, looking at labels and trying to decide which product would be the best.

  “Double-o-seven,” Joe quipped, “a license to kill.”

  I stopped reading the label of the spray I was holding and looked at him, amazed he was dumb enough to think the line a turn on.

  “I can handle the bugs,” I said, holding the poison out so he could ring it up.

  Minutes later, I was back at my house, ready to do battle with the infestation invading my living space. But when I entered the kitchen, my mouth dropped open. The fissure in the wall had widened, revealing a large crevice, floor-to-ceiling. Worse, the entire wall was nearly covered with insects. Bugs of every kind. And more were falling out of the wall and onto the floor.

  “What the hell—?”

  Turning, I saw Joe, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. He carried a large canister with a hose and sprayer attached.

  “Now Joe, I told you I could take care of this.”

  “I’m going to need more poison,” Joe said, ignoring me completely. Stepping back, he stared at the wall. “You have roaches, maggots, beetles … I don’t even know”—he pointed with his sprayer—“what that one is right there. Jenny, you should’ve come to me sooner?”

  “I didn’t because I’m going to take care of it!”

  “Jenny, the U.S Army couldn’t take care of this! How long has this been going on?”

  “Since this morning.”

  “This didn’t just start this morning.”

  George’s voice returned: They’re gonna find out what you did!

  The fissure widened even more and I jumped when a hand, covered in bugs, reached out of the opening. I knew it couldn’t be moving, just a trick of the light and the creatures crawling all over the appendage, but it appeared to be reaching for me. Joe saw it, too, and nearly fell backwards trying to distance himself from the gruesome monstrosity climbing out of the wall.

  “Just had to follow me.” I gave Joe a withering look. The stare had crushed stronger men, but Joe, unfazed by my contempt, stood far more troubled by the appearance of my missing husband staggering out of the wall, the infestation of creepy crawlies feasting on his face.

  To be fair, it was disturbing, especially since George had not fallen on the floor, a heap of bones, decayed flesh and bugs, but, instead, was lurching forward, reaching for me with insect covered arms, and for the briefest of moments, I thought it the bugs that were animating his body.

  But then, from behind him, another form fell out of the fissure, this one falling to the floor, as expected from a dead body, only this one wasn’t dead. Sally’s legs were too far gone to support her emaciated form, but she still managed to look at me, her empty eye sockets conveying pointed hate, beetles writhing inside, living insectile orbs replacing her own. Her mouth opened and a swarm of bugs came out, pouring onto the floor, creating a carpet of flies and beetles. Sally pulled herself across the swarm, teeth gnashing, biting the air with a fury to taste my flesh.

  Joe turned and ran out of the kitchen, the door slamming behind him. I heard him scream he was going for help. Looking at George and Sally, I shook my head. “You just had to stir up trouble.”

  Pulling a knife from the rack, I headed after Joe.

  I caught up with him a few paces out the door. He hadn’t gone far, having fallen on his knees as soon as he hit the fresh air, the contents of his stomach spewing from his mouth.

  “What the hell did you do?” The words caught in his throat as he choked on his vomit.

  “I killed George, Sherlock.”

  “And Sally?” His face pleaded. “She never left me?”

  Gawd, Joe, you really are an idiot. No wonder Sally took up with George. Least George had a few brains, even if in the end he’d been a tad too smart for his own good. “Again, the answer should be obvious.”

  “Why?”

  “They were screwing each other, for more than a year, ever since your heart
attack. Maybe even before, but I don’t think so. I knew the night it happened; George had a spring in his step. A man only gets that one way and I hadn’t given it to him. Hadn’t given it to him for a while. Really, I was quite relieved he’d taken up with your wife. Glad for her, too, since at the time you were in no condition to do much for her.”

  Behind, I could hear the screen door rattling. George, hell bent on revenge, was trying to get out. I needed to finish this, and quick, so I could deal with my cheating husband—again.

  Raising the knife, I took a step towards Joe. Realizing the danger he was in, his eyes widened with fear and he started to scoot backwards on his behind.

  “If you were happy they were together, then why did you kill them?”

  He was stalling for time. Probably hoping that George would somehow make it through the door. “Because he was going to leave me,” I said with a shrug. “He and Sally were going to move to Florida and open a bait store! A bait store! Can you believe it? There would’ve been a divorce, our bank records would have been looked into, and that would have been that. Everything would have come into the open.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Joe was confused. “That there was more money in the bank than there should have been, silly. I’ve been embezzling money for years from this town. It’s amazing, really, that no one ever noticed. But with George leaving … well, I would have been exposed.”

  I laughed thinking about it. For three years George had been behind that wall, and now, the eve of my retirement, he decides to come out. I knew once I quit my job and someone else took