Billy by Whitley Strieber Read Free Book Online

He threw the sheets off and looked around him. The room was as always. He sniffed. No unusual odors here. He listened. No strange noises.
    He knew what he'd smelled in the basement, though. He was almost sure that another human being had been in there with him, somebody who was sweating and—for whatever weird reason—using glue. Whoever it was hadn't made a sound.
    Billy decided he might have been having a nightmare while  he was awake. Could that happen? He wasn't sure, but he thought maybe it could.
    He decided to check out the rest of the family. Maybe he'd find the explanation in one of the other bedrooms.
     
    Barton had withdrawn from the house very, very carefully. It had taken him a good five minutes to convince himself that the boy had indeed stayed inside.
    Except for the basement, which blazed with light, the place was dark. He looked at his watch: one-fifteen. At least he had plenty of time left. He decided to return to his spot under the tree and wait.
     
    The bird's song had drawn Billy to his window again, and from there he'd seen a bulky black shadow moving across the lawn. He could hardly believe it. When he understood that this was completely real, that he was wide awake, a cold shock flashed through him. Somebody really had been watching him while he was in the basement. That person must have been the source of the smells. And earlier—had he been the one in the gray slacks?
    The thought of the weird guy who'd played RPM with him in the video arcade flashed through his mind, but that was too crazy even for Billy Neary. The guy would have had to have followed him home, for God's sake.
    The prowler had moved with a sort of rolling scuttle, almost crablike, quickly disappearing beneath the twisty limbs of the oak. Billy waited for him to come out the other side and go off down the sidewalk, but he did not come out.
    This was serious and he had to tell Dad. He went into his parents' room. They were so tangled up together in their four-poster bed that they seemed like one body with two dark heads.
    "Dad?"
    No response. He looked down at them. How would it feel to sleep bundled so close to a woman? He wasn't sure he was ready to spend the night without Garfie.
    "Dad."
    "Mmm? Hah—"
    "There's a man in the yard."
    "What?"
    "I was looking out my window and I saw a man go under the oak."
    "You're sure?"
    "Yes."
    Dad and Mother came untwined from one another and sat up. Dad looked angry. He swung out of bed and went to the window. "Where?"
    "You can't see him now. He's under the oak."
    "Maybe you should call the police, Mark."
    "Let me take a look." He went over to their dresser and got the flashlight out of the bottom drawer.
    Feeling a lot safer, Billy followed his father down the stairs.
     
    Barton saw a glimmer of light touch the stained glass above the front door. It was only the slightest flicker, but it caused him to stand up and step back into the shadows. Then the door opened and the light jabbed like a needle into the dark yard.
    With a single quick step Barton put the tree between himself and the flashlight. Obviously the boy had waked up his father and now they were searching for him.
    As soon as he could get out of here he was going back to the van. He should never have tried this breaking and entering routine, it was just too risky.
    But he had to have this boy!
    He stood absolutely still, holding his breath, hardly daring to watch them lest they feel his stare. As if his thoughts could in some way control their actions, he willed them to stay on the porch.
    Their voices drifted across the silent lawn. "There's nobody out there now, Billy."
    Billy, his name was Billy.
    "I saw him, Dad. He was right over there." He pointed straight at the tree. "He was fat."
    "I don't see a soul."
    "It was very scary, Dad."
    So Billy had not only noticed his presence in the basement but also seen him as he moved across the lawn. He'd never  dreamed he'd been under observation then. This little boy was sharp. He