The Dark Door
Public Domain
Chapter 6
George Webber sat in the little room, trembling, listening, his eyes wide in the thick, misty darkness. He knew it would be a matter of time now. He couldn’t run much farther. He hadn’t seen them, true. Oh, they had been very clever, but they thought they were dealing with a fool, and they weren’t. He knew they’d been following him; he’d known it for a long time now.
It was just as he had been telling the man downstairs the night before: they were everywhere--your neighbor upstairs, the butcher on the corner, your own son or daughter, maybe even the man you were talking to--everywhere!
And of course he had to warn as many people as he possibly could before they caught him, throttled him off, as they had threatened to if he talked to anyone.
If only the people would listen to him when he told them how cleverly it was all planned, how it would only be a matter of months, maybe only weeks or days before the change would happen, and the world would be quietly, silently taken over by the other people, the different people who could walk through walls and think in impossibly complex channels. And no one would know the difference, because business would go on as usual.