Ed Krieger's Arc

Chapter 2 of 4

Tommy carried the rusted box home in both hands. The white picket fence creaked as he pushed through the gate. Inside the tidy house, the air felt heavier than it should. Something had followed him from the playground, and it knew this address. In the living room, his family used an old chest as a coffee table. Tommy had walked past it a hundred times. Today he stopped. A length of rusted chain looped around one side. He knelt and lifted the lid. Inside lay a pile of corroded fishhooks tangled in rotted netting. The chain looked wet, though nothing had spilled. Tommy reached in and touched one hook. The metal was cold in a way that climbed his arm. A whisper slid into his ear, low and patient. "Your grandparents tied the knots," the voice said. "Your grandparents threw me in." Tommy froze. The voice knew his last name. The voice knew this house. The hooks rattled softly, as if counting him. Ed Krieger had found the bloodline he wanted. Tommy dropped the lid and stumbled back. The whisper stayed inside his head, warm and certain. He understood, without being told, that the thing in the chest had always been waiting for a Jones to open it. The hunt was no longer a guess. It was an address.