Technomancer (Unspeakable Things: Book One)

third.
    I stood over a lump covered in the black ashes that I calculated were the cremated remains of my living room furniture. The lump shivered again as I watched it. All I had to do, I knew, was reach out with a toe and tap the thing at my feet—but I hesitated.
    The wind sighed in the trees around me. Distantly, a siren wailed out in the direction of the boulevard. I couldhear TV voices floating out of a neighbor’s window from somewhere nearby. I stared at the lump and waited for it to shiver again. It did nothing. I willed the thing at my feet to reveal itself without my having to act upon it.
    Then I began to feel something on my face as I stared at the thing. I felt
heat
. This spot, alone among the fifteen hundred-odd square feet of ash and debris, was still hot. The heat spread to my exposed hands. As I stood there, I felt the burning sensation intensify upon the legs of my pants and sensed it sinking into my shoes as well. Did it come from the shivering thing before me? I wasn’t sure.
    Still staring, I reached out my foot and touched the lump with the toe of my shoe. It was hard, heavy, and solid. I felt it tremble. It was as if I had nudged a vibrating bowling ball covered in sodden ashes.
    I yanked my foot away and lifted the other, planning to beat a stealthy retreat. It was too late, however. Whatever was crouching in the middle of my home, I’d awakened it.
    The thing unfolded itself. Ash dribbled away and it grew taller as I watched. Still, it was barely a foot in height—make that eighteen inches now. I almost bolted, but kept watching. Maybe that was my curse, my weakness. I felt an overwhelming urge to investigate this oddity, rather than to flee from it. I knew in a flash of remembrance I’d faced alien things like this before and failed to run from them when any sane man would have.
    The unfolding thing rotated a part of itself to look up at what had nudged it. To me, it now resembled a bulky worm made of lava rock, with a head section that rose up to regard me. The sensation of emanating heat grew ever more intense and its eyes met mine—eyes of blue flame on stalks of blackened, porous stone. It did not run from me, but instead straightened and slid forward very slowly. It stared at me with curiosity—or was that hunger?
    I saw it clearly now, despite the fact it was not illuminated by a streetlamp or neighbor’s security light. The thing glowed faintly with the color of dying coals. The creature seemed weak, almost pitiful. I sensed it might have become aggressive in a moment of strength. But for now it only eyed me curiously and approached very slowly.
    “You’re a crazy bastard, Draith,” said a voice. “Just like they said.”
    My head jerked toward the voice. A man stood on the sidewalk. He lit a cigarette and continued to watch me from a safe distance. His cigarette glowed orange, but the rest of him stood in shadow. I could tell from his voice and bearing he was a plainclothes cop.
    I looked back toward the thing at my feet. It raised a stony appendage in my direction, moving lazily, tiredly. It reached toward my feet. I took a step backward. The thing stirred itself like a tired old man and rippled in weary pursuit.
    The cop on the sidewalk chuckled around his cigarette. “It
still
wants to get you. Talk about dedication! Ninety percent dead and almost burnt out, but it
still
goes for you.”
    I took another step back, then a third. The thing at my feet looked up at me reproachfully, but with exhausted determination, it squirmed its form closer. As it moved, I heard a faint sound like that of two bricks grinding against one another.
    “What is it?” I asked the man on the sidewalk.
    The man ignored my question. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for you to come back? I’ve endured long days on this stakeout. My back is sore from sitting in my car for so damned many hours. You owe me, Draith.”
    “I take it you want to investigate this obvious case of arson?” I asked. Maybe Holly had been right and the cops weren’t going to be helpful.
    “Ha,” said the cop. “Yeah, right. Come out of there, man. Nice and easy. Do you know I had no idea that thing was still alive? It must have smelled you or something and woke up again.”
    “What put it to sleep?”
    “The water from the fire hoses, I figure. It likes fire; cold seems to mess it up. But how the hell do I know? You’re the expert on freaky shit like this. Don’t you read your own blog? Get over here,