One Plus Two Equals... - 43

Grocery shopping took three-quarters of an hour, during which Julyan kept expecting his phone to vibrate again. When it didn't, he figured it really had been a wrong number. He paid for the groceries, stowing them in his backpack, and started back home.

"Not again," he grumbled, opening his phone. The number was blocked, tempting him to ignore the caller. Instead he answered.

"How do you like the neighborhood?" the same voice as before asked. When he didn't reply the caller chuckled. "Guess your mother told you not to talk to strangers. Smart woman. Six words, boy. Verdi Square, tomorrow night after dark." The caller hung up.

Seconds later there was another call. He answered, saying, "No way in hell."

"Juls, no way what?"

"Duane." He let out a sigh of relief, realizing at the same time that he was in front of their building.

"What was that all about?"

After a second's debate Julyan told him, "I got a strange phone call. Well three if you're counting." He had his keys in his hand by then, opened the door and went in; making certain it was closed before heading to the elevators.

"I'm counting," Duane was growling as Julyan pushed the 'up' button. "How strange?"

"Give me a minute, I'm getting on the elevator." As soon as he stepped off again on their floor, he said. "Weird."

"Weird? Oh, the calls. Tell me." Julyan did, which made Duane say firmly, "You're to get inside, lock the door, and not answer it or the phone until either Auden or I get there."

"I'm in, the door is now locked. What if you call?"

"I won't." Without another word, Duane ended the conversation.

"Gee, thanks for worrying," Julyan muttered as he went into the kitchen to empty his backpack. When everything was stored away, he flopped down on one of the living room sofas only to immediately jump up again to go change clothes.

Dinner, got to fix dinner. He looked at the time. Too early. He went to stare out the living room windows, wondering if the person who had called was down below, looking up at him. They can't see me if they are, he thought hopefully.

Grabbing a book from the shelves he curled up on the sofa to try to read, thinking that would calm his nerves. It might have if he hadn't picked a Stephen King horror anthology. He snapped it closed halfway through the first story, jumping to his feet again to move to the sofa in front of the entertainment center. "No, no, you're not serious, they put crap like that on, no, and no," he mumbled as he flicked through the television channels.

He leaned his head on the back of the sofa, staring up at the ceiling, lost in thoughts about the calls and what they meant. The sound of a key turning in the front door had him bolting upright.