rags, furniture wax, cleaning fluid, and window polish. Apparently, the nursery had been taken over by Axel for storage.
Donna backed out. She hurried through the corridor, past the Brentwood chairs, and stopped near the bodies. She gazed at the door to the attic. It stood wide. “Jud?” she called up the stairs.
She began climbing the stairs. They were very steep. The walls seemed close, as if they were pressing in on her. She hurried. Above her, the door stood open. She climbed to it, and hesitated before stepping inside. “Jud, are you in here? Jud?”
She ducked through the low doorway. In the circle of light cast by her flare, she saw a rocking chair, a pedestal table, several lamps, and a sofa. She stepped away from the door. Moving sideways, she squeezed between the table and sofa. Ahead stood a weaver’s loom. She skirted to the left of it, swung a leg over the high roll of a rug, and stumbled to keep from stepping on a hand. Catching herself against a chair, she whirled around, saw wild hair, wide-open eyes, torn shoulders and breasts.
Not Jud, thank God.
Mary Ziegler.
From ankle to hip, little except bones remained of Mary’s right leg. Donna turned away, doubled over, and vomited. Her stomach, already empty, kept convulsing, wracking her with pain. Finally, it stopped. She wiped the tears from her eyes and started back toward the door.
She stepped over the rolled rug. She pressed sideways between the table and the sofa. Then, just ahead of her, the door slammed shut.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE 1.
Jud made his way farther into the tunnel, crouching beneath its low ceiling, trying to fight off the sense of suffocation caused by its narrow walls. In places, the earth was shored up with boards. The work of humans.
Wick Hapson, maybe. Or Axel Kutch.
Jud knew, even before stepping into the tunnel, where it would lead him. But he hadn’t realized it would be this far. For some reason, the tunnel was not straight. It meandered like an old river, with twists and loops, and hairpin turns. At one point, it split into a Y. Jud went left. The tunnel curved, rejoined the other branch, and continued toward the west.
At every turn, his finger tensed on the pistol trigger ready for an abrupt assault by the wounded beast. But rounding each, he saw only more tunnel and another bend.
Soon he began to wonder if he had somehow passed the opening he’d expected to find. He remembered the Y. Perhaps the right-hand branch led past the house entrance before curving back to join the one he’d taken.
That seemed unlikely. Still…
He stepped around a bend, and the tunnel opened. With a sweep of his flashlight, he found himself in a cellar. Pillows and cushions, like islands, littered the floor’s blue carpet. In a far corner was the beast.
Jud walked toward it. The creature lay on its back, white arms clutching a pillow to its chest. Its long, pointed tongue hung from a corner of its mouth. Kneeling beside it, Jud pushed its snout with his gun barrel.
Dead.
Its lower body was sheathed with blood. He quickly checked, and saw that Lilly Thorn’s description of the sex organ had been accurate. Amazed and disgusted, he backed away.
He climbed the wooden stairs and entered the kitchen of the windowless house. 2.
Axel Kutch, hunched like a wrestler in front of the attic door, grinned at Donna. His bald head gleamed in the light of her flare. Curly hair matted his bulky shoulders, his arms and chest and belly—but his penis stood hairless, thick and shiny and tilted high. He limped toward her.
“Stay back.”
He shook his head.
Threatening him with the flare, Donna tried to unsling her rifle.
A two-fingered hand grasped her wrist. It twisted sharply. The flare dropped, but he didn’t stop twisting. Donna spun sideways, off balance, and fell to her back. Still clutching her wrist, Axel kicked her in the side. He dropped to his knees. Picking up the flare, he jammed its unlighted end into a crack between the sofa cushions above Donna’s head. Then he threw a leg over her. He sat on her belly, pinning her arms to the floor.
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
She struggled, trying to free her arms.
“Stay still,” he said.
“Get off!”
“Stay still!”
Bending, he pushed his mouth against hers. She bit his lip, tasting the salty warmth of his blood, but he didn’t stop kissing her. She bit again, savagely tearing the flesh of his lip. With a grunt, he pulled away. The back of his hand clubbed her face.
Weak from the blow, she tried with her free arm to shove him away.
He knocked her arm down, then punched her twice in the face.
Each blow was a stunning explosion of pain. Barely holding onto consciousness, she knew that he was tearing open her blouse. She heard buttons skitter across the floor, then felt the rough touch of his hands. Though her arms were free, she couldn’t find strength to lift them. He pulled at her bra. When it wouldn’t come off, he broke the shoulder straps. Donna felt the looseness, then the chilly bareness of her breasts. Axel squeezed them. The pain helped clear her mind. She felt the suck of his mouth. Then he was tugging at the belt of her corduroys.
She realized she could lift her arms. Opening her eyes, she saw Axel kneeling between her legs, head down as he worked to open her pants.
She reached behind her head. Stretched her arm. Grabbed the shaft of the flare. In a single swift motion, she plunged its sputtering head into Axel’s left eye. He shrieked as the room went dark. She shoved the flare harder. A warm wetness spilled onto her hand as the flare slid deep. Axel’s rigid body bucked with convulsions. She pushed him off and rolled away from his body. 3.
Ahead of Jud, blue light glowed from the living room. He approached silently. He peered around the corner. The sight staggered him. Glancing to his left, he saw the front door. It was no more than six feet away.
Maggie and the creatures were probably thirty feet from him. One, underneath her, would be slow getting free. The beast at her rear wouldn’t be able to see him. But the one at her head was facing his way. He couldn’t possibly make the door without it noticing him.
He pressed himself to the wall, out of sight. For several seconds, he listened to the grunting and the slippery smacking sounds. Maggie was gasping. From the violence of the sounds, he guessed that they would soon be done.
Once they were finished, his chance of escape…
Escape?
Christ, he’d almost forgotten what he’d come here to do.
He’d come here to kill the beast.
He’d come to stop it from murdering again.
Except it’s not one beast, it’s five. Maybe more. That doesn’t change the purpose of the mission. It doesn’t change the need for them to die: If anything, it increased the urgency of the task.
Lunging away from the wall, Judgment Rucker crouched and fired. A beast shrieked as the bullet crashed through its head. It stumbled backward, penis sliding from Maggie’s mouth, ejaculating onto her face and hair.
The one behind her looked. Caught a bullet in its right eye. Slumped onto Maggie’s back.
Jud held fire, watching Maggie struggle. The dead beast on her back fell away. She rolled off the live one, and lay on her side so that her body protected it from a shot by Jud.
Slowly, she stood up, being careful to shield the beast with her body. It got to its feet behind her. She began
