“It’s all right,” Jud said quietly.
“It’s
“We’ll have plenty more,” he said, and climbed from the car. He dragged out Roy, who stumbled and dropped to his knees. “Keep him here,” Jud told Larry.
Donna followed Jud to the trunk.
“Please,” he said, “get in the car.”
“One kiss.”
“All right.”
She pressed herself tightly against him, squeezing him hard, hoping that somehow their bodies might fuse and she could stop him from leaving. But after a moment, he forced her gently away.
She watched him take his torn parka from the trunk and put it on. He picked up two flashlights and a road flare. Then he quietly shut the trunk and handed the keys to her.
“What time does your watch say?” he asked.
“Ten forty-three.”
He set his. “Okay. Meet us here at eleven-fifteen.”
“Jud?”
“Go. Please. I want to get this done.”
She went back to the car, started it, and drove away without looking back at the three men she’d left along the roadside.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR 1.
“It’s a turnstile,” Jud said. “Climb over it.”
Roy shook his head.
Jud prodded him with the knife, and Roy swung a leg up. Larry, on the other side, helped him over by pulling one of his tied arms. Jud heard an approaching car. He vaulted the turnstile, grabbed Roy, and pulled the big man to the ground. The three of them lay close to the ticket-booth wall.
Jud heard the car slow. Its tires crunched gravel. Crawling forward, he peered around the corner of the ticket booth.
A police car.
It was stopped across the road, but Jud could hear the quiet idle of its engine. A few moments passed. Then it made a U-turn, drove slowly by the ticket booth, and headed off.
They dragged Roy to his feet and led him up the lawn. They hurried alongside the house to the back. There, they climbed the porch stairs.
The broken glass in the back door had neither been replaced nor boarded over. Sliding the knife into his pocket, Jud reached through the opening. He lowered his fingers down the door crack until he found a bolt. He tried to draw it back. It was stuck. He jerked. It snapped back with a clatter that filled the silence.
“That probably woke it up,” Larry whispered.
Jud pushed open the door. He stepped inside, pulling the hooded man. Larry, following, shut the door without a sound.
“Where to?” he whispered.
“Let’s take this off, first.” Jud removed the belt from Roy’s neck, then pulled off the pillowcase. The man’s head jerked as he looked quickly around.
“This is Beast House,” Jud told him.
He made noises through his nose.
“I’ll take off the gag. You’ll live a bit longer, though, if you stay quiet.”
Roy nodded.
Jud tore the adhesive tape off Roy’s mouth, and pocketed it. He strapped the spare belt around his waist, and tucked in the pillowcase so it hung at his side like a white sash. He planned to leave nothing behind.
Nothing but Roy.
“Let’s go upstairs,” he whispered.
“That where the
“That’s where it usually attacks,” Jud said.
“Yeah? You believe that shit?”
“Shhhh.”
Jud stepped out of the kitchen. He flicked on his flashlight. Ahead was the entrance hall, its stuffed-monkey umbrella holder guarding the front door like a grotesque sentry. He put his light away. With his left hand, he reached under the back of his shirt and pulled the Colt automatic from his belt.
“What’re you guys, trying to scare me?”
“Shhh,” Larry repeated.
“Shit.”
At the foot of the stairs, Roy said, “I smell gas.”
“That’s from last night,” Jud whispered.
“Yeah?”
“A woman was killed,” Larry said.
“No shit? You guys do this all the time?”
“Shut up,” said Jud.
“I was only making conversation.”
They started up the stairs, and last night’s horrors filled Jud’s mind: Mary Ziegler, dead, diving down at him; the liquid sounds she made rolling across his back; the awful stench of the beast. He looked toward the top of the stairs, half afraid he would see her there again.
“Anybody got a smoke?” Roy asked.
“Shut up.”
They reached the top of the stairs.
“Okay,” Jud said, “lie down.”
“What?”
“Lie facedown on the floor.”
“Fuck you.”
With a sudden kick, Jud knocked the left leg out from under Roy. The man sat down hard.
“Fuckin’ bastard.”
“Face down.”
Roy obeyed.
“You just wait, motherfucker. I’ll gut you like a catfish. I’ll cut off your cock and jam it down…”
“In there,” Jud whispered to Larry, pointing to the door several feet from Roy.
“Alone?”
“Just a second.” Jud knelt. “Okay, Roy. You just lie here quietly. I tell you what: If you make it to dawn alive, I’ll turn you over to the cops.”
“Fuck you.”
“But the only way you’ve got a chance is to stay real still, and real quiet. Maybe you’ll be lucky, and the beast won’t notice you.”
“Fuck you.”
“We’ll be right over there, where we can keep an eye on you. If you try to sneak off, I’ll have to dump you. Any questions?”
“Yeah. What’s your name? I like to know a guy’s name before I gut him.”
“My name is Judgment Rucker.”
“Shit.”
