The Box: Uncanny Stories Read Online Free Page A

The Box: Uncanny Stories
Book: The Box: Uncanny Stories Read Online Free
Author: Richard Matheson
Pages:
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sigh. Bingo.
    When the woman came back in, he smiled at her, noticing how heavily she breathed.
    “That could happen any place,” she said, defensively.
    “Could it?” Greg’s smile remained intact. “And the throw rug?”
    “Maybe you looked around while I was in the kitchen.”
    “We didn’t.”
    “
Maybe you guessed
.”
    “And maybe we didn’t,” he told her, chilling his smile. “Maybe everything we’ve said is true. You want to gamble on it?”
    The woman had no reply. Greg looked at Carrie. “Anything else?” he asked. Carrie shivered fitfully. “An electric outlet by the baby’s crib,” she said. “She has a bobby pin beside her, she’s been trying to put it in the plug and—”
    “Mrs. Wheeler?” Greg looked inquisitively at the woman. He snickered as she turned and hurried from the room. When she was gone, he smiled and winked at Carrie. “You’re really on today, baby,” he said. She returned his look with glistening eyes. “Greg, please don’t make it too much,” she murmured.
    Greg turned away from her, the smile withdrawn. Relax, he told himself; relax. After today, you’ll be free of her. Casually, he slipped the notebook back into his topcoat pocket.
    The woman returned in several minutes, her expression now devoid of anything but dread. Between two fingers of her right hand she was carrying a bobby pin. “
How did you know
?” she asked. Her voice was hollow with dismay.
    “I believe I explained that, Mrs. Wheeler,” Greg replied. “My wife has a gift. She knows exactly where and when the accident will occur. Do you care to buy that information?”
    The woman’s hands twitched at her sides. “What do you want?” she asked.
    “Ten thousand dollars in cash,” Greg answered. His fingers flexed reactively as Carrie gasped but he didn’t look at her. He fixed his gaze on the woman’s stricken face. “Ten thousand . . .” she repeated dumbly.
    “That’s correct. Is it a deal?”
    “But we don’t—”
    “
Take it or leave it, Mrs. Wheeler
. You’re not in a bargaining position. Don’t think for a second that there’s anything you can do to prevent the accident. Unless you know the exact time and place, it’s going to happen.” He stood abruptly, causing her to start. “Well?” he snapped, “what’s it going to be? Ten thousand dollars or your son’s life?”
    The woman couldn’t answer. Greg’s eyes flicked to where Carrie sat in mute despair. “Let’s go,” he said. He started for the hall.
    “
Wait
.”
    Greg turned and looked at the woman. “Yes?”
    “How—do I know—?” she faltered.
    “You don’t,” he broke in; “you don’t know a thing.
We
do.”
    He waited another few moments for her decision, then walked into the kitchen and, removing his memo pad from an inside pocket, slipped the pencil free and jotted down the telephone number. He heard the woman murmuring pleadingly to Carrie and, shoving the pad and pencil into his topcoat pocket, left the kitchen. “Let’s go,” he said to Carrie who was standing now. He glanced disinterestedly at the woman. “I’ll phone this afternoon,” he said. “You can tell me then what you and your husband have decided to do.” His mouth went hard. “
It’ll be the only call you’ll get
,” he said.
    He turned and walked to the front door, opened it. “Come on, come on,” he ordered irritably. Carrie slipped by him, brushing at the tears on her cheeks. Greg followed and began to close the door, then stopped as if remembering something.
    “Incidentally,” he said. He smiled at the woman. “I wouldn’t call the police if I were you. There’s nothing they could charge us with even if they found us. And, of course, we couldn’t tell you then—and your son would have to die.” He closed the door and started for the car, a picture of the woman printed in his mind: standing, dazed and trembling, in her living room, looking at him with haunted eyes. Greg grunted in amusement.
    She was
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