Blood spilled onto her face from its ripped throat. Its mouth opened wide. She shut her eyes, and felt its teeth on the sides of her face. They clamped tightly.
Suddenly, the beast staggered. Its teeth kept their grip, but the hand let go of her shirt, and she dropped to the floor. As she hit, the teeth cut into her cheeks.
“It’s all right.”
Johnny’s voice.
The jaws opened, and the pressure of the head went away. Johnny, crouching over her, held the monstrous head in both hands. He tossed it aside.
Then he picked her up, and held her tightly.
Later, Robbins unknotted Nealas long, soft hair. He pulled it from the jawbone of the old head, and tossed the head outside.
Among the crosses in front of the cabin, he found one more sturdy than the others. On it, he impaled the head of Manfred Krull. He propped it near the cabin door.
“Sir!”
Turning, he saw a man moving through the barrier. The thin, pale man casually pushed aside the pikes as he came forward.
Neala took hold of Robbinss arm. He saw that she held the saber.
“Be not afraid,” said the man.
He stepped out of the crosses. A skirt of hair floated about his legs as he moved. He stopped in front of Robbins.
“You have slain the Devil,” he said. “With his life, you have purchased your salvation. We shall escort you to safety.”
“We can go?” Robbins asked.
“Tell no one what you have seen in these woods, or your lives shall be forfeit.”
“What about the others?” Neala asked.
“There are no others.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Cordie, crouched in the darkness, watched Robbins and Neala follow the old man through the barrier of heads.
She wondered if she might join them.
But she remembered Grar’s warning.
It still applied. It had to.
She lay flat among the crosses, and pressed her eyes tightly shut.
She was finished.
Dead.
Oh Christ.
At least, if she didn’t move, the Krulls might not notice her. She could die here, and save herself from them.
Time passed.
A long, long time.
Longer than Cordie thought a night could last. Then the sky turned pale blue, and finally the sun came up.
Hearing a sound, she raised her head. And saw Heth swinging his legless torso through the crosses. His eyes met hers.
“No,” she whimpered.
A strange noise filled her ears, a fluttering
“Jesus,” she muttered.
She glanced at Heth. His hideous, bloated face seemed to grin.
She scrambled to her feet. She raced toward the cabin, waving her arms high, not giving a damn about the crosses she bumped, the heads that tumbled before her.
The helicopter set down in front of the cabin.
The passenger, a tall woman, stepped out. She wore a red jumpsuit. She carried a rifle.
“Sherri!”
Cordie rushed toward her.
Sherri shouldered the rifle.
“No! Please! I’m sorry!”
The shot smashed through the roar of the rotors. Cordie spun around. Heth, a yard behind her, teetered on his outthrust arms.
A hole in his forehead.
He fell facedown.
“Get your ass over here!” Sherri yelled.
Cordie ran to her.
“On the local front, a Mariposa County Sheriff’s posse has failed to return from their search of a wilderness area west of Barlow. The eighteen men entered the rugged forest terrain on Tuesday to investigate reports of multiple killings…”
EPILOGUE
“What ho! What ho!” Lander sang quietly as he limped through the dark woods. His gunshot leg had nearly healed.
“What ho! What ho! Sing merry-a-day!”
He carried the girl through the clearing, and dropped her at his feet. She groaned.
Not dead?
“Passing strange,” he muttered. “Soon fixed.”
He slid the hatchet from his belt.
Her eyes opened. She reached up, and clutched a handful of hair, nearly pulling down his nice new skirt. “Please,” she said.
“Please? The King’s tongue?” He knelt beside her. He gazed at her moonlit body, a body he’d taken such pleasure from, earlier, after bashing her head. A young, lithe body. “What do they call you?” he asked.
“Lilly.”
“Lilly. Oh, Lily sweet and fair, how like a flower you are.” He touched her small breasts. “Buds and petals. Sweet nectar. Shall I spare you? Shall I take you to my palace?”
Her hand slipped through the hanging hair, and touched him.
“Perchance I shall.
He put the hatchet away, and lifted her. He kissed her breast. “Come, let’s away. We shall be God’s spies.”
He carried her into the forest of impaled heads.
“Grar,” said the girl, looking at one.
