The Nightmare People. Lawrence Watt-Evans

pay-phone and call the police, or to flee as quickly as he could, drive away and never come back.

      Despite his panicky confusion, the prankster theory somehow pushed its way to the surface of his mind. Could the blood and bone be fake?

      He doubted it— but he wasn’t sure. He was no expert. He couldn’t be certain the bones were human.

      He hadn’t really taken that close a look, and it was dark down in there. He hadn’t touched them. The bones might even be some sort of plastic replicas.

      It could be a prank. A horrible and elaborate prank, but a prank.

      If it was a prank, was Bill Goodwin in on it?

      And if the monsters were real, was Bill Goodwin one of them?

      Was Bill going to call for help, get the pranksters or monsters or whatever they were to clean up the basement, hide the bones, do something to cover their tracks?

      Almost certainly, Smith realized, that was exactly what would happen. Why else would the boy have behaved as he did?

      Or was his imagination running away with him? Was he panicking, turning paranoid?

      He suddenly wished he had thought to bring a camera. His own battered Pentax was still in his apartment, but he could have bought a cheap little Instamatic or something when he got his crowbar and flashlight.

      Or he could run across to his apartment and get the Pentax right now.

      His mouth twisted at the thought. He climbed into the car and slammed the door.

      He wasn’t going back in his apartment just now, thank you very much.

      He could go back down in the basement, though, and take some of those bones, for proof of his story.

      But what would they really prove? And how could he prove where he got them?

      That wouldn’t work. He wouldn’t try it.

      Besides, if he went back down into that basement he might be cornered in there if the monsters came back. He wasn’t going back.

      He would call the police, anonymously, and report a dead body.

      That’s all he would do, for now.

      He started the engine.