Nightworld

"Alan?"

Sylvia awoke with a start and stared wildly around her, momentarily disoriented in the darkness. Then she saw the candle flickering on the ping-pong table and remembered she was in the basement. She reached out a hand and found Jeffy's slumbering form curled next to her on the old Castro convertible.

She squinted at the luminous dial on her watch. 7:30. Had she been asleep that long? She must have been more tired than she'd thought. At least the night had gone quickly. Sunrise was due at 9:10. Another long, long night was drawing to a close. She stretched. Soon Alan would be knocking on the upstairs door, telling them all to rise and—

Then she heard it.

On the upstairs door—scratching. She leapt out of bed and hurried to the foot of the steps to listen again.

No—not scratching. Gnawing.

Trembling, chewing her upper lip, Sylvia crept up the stairs, telling herself with each tread that she was wrong, that it couldn't be, that her ears had to be playing dirty tricks on her. Half-way up she caught the smell and abruptly ran out of denials. She rushed the rest of the way to the door where she pressed the flats of her hands against the solid oak panels and felt the vibrations as countless teeth scored the outer surface.

Alan! Dear God, where's Alan?

She turned the knob and gripped it with both hands as she leaned her shoulder against the door. Bugs in Toad Hall. She had to see. She could hear them and smell them but she had to see them to believe there were that many of the horrors in her house. She edged the door open a crack and saw a sliver of the hallway. The creatures immediately attacked the opening and she slammed the door shut. But she'd seen enough.

Bugs. The hall was choked with them—floating, drifting, darting, bumping, hanging on the walls.

Sylvia began to tremble. If the halls had been taken over by the bugs, where was Alan? To invade Toad Hall they had to get past Alan.

"Alan?" she cried, her face against the vibrating door.

Maybe he got to the movie room and locked himself in there. Maybe he was safe.

But those were only words. She could find no place in her heart and mind that truly believed them. A sob built in her throat and ripped free as a scream.

"ALAN!"