“Are we running away?”

“Yes.”

The girl on the floor lapsed into silence. Donna, resting against the steering wheel, closed her eyes. At some point, she fell asleep. She was awakened by a quiet sob.

“Sandy, what is it?”

“It won’t do any good.”

“What won’t?”

“He’ll get us.”

“Honey!”

“He will!”

“Try to sleep, honey. It’ll be all right. You’ll see.”

The girl became silent except for an occasional sniff. Donna, leaning on the steering wheel, waited for sleep. When it finally came, it was a tense, aching half-sleep feverish with vivid dreams. She stood it as long as she could. At last, she had to get out. If the rest of her body could endure the torment, her full bladder couldn’t.

Taking the box of Kleenex from the floor beside Sandy, she climbed silently from the car. The chilly air made her shake. She breathed deeply. Rolling her head, she tried to work the stiffness out of her sore neck muscles. It didn’t seem to help much. She locked the door and pushed it quietly shut.

Before letting go of its handle, she looked over the top of the car. On the shoulder of the road, less then twenty feet from the rear of the Maverick, was a pickup truck.

Axel Kutch sat on the roof of its cab, legs hanging over the windshield. His face, turned skyward, was lighted by a full moon. He seemed to be staring at it, as if entranced.

Silently, Donna crept down the slope. From the bottom of the ditch, she could still see Axel’s head. She watched it as she opened her corduroys. The huge head was still tilted back, its mouth gaping. She crouched close to the car.

The breeze was cold on her skin.

I was cold, like that time. And I had my pants down.

Everything will be fine, she thought.

He’ll sniff us down.

When she finished, Donna climbed the slope to the roadside. Axel, sitting on the roof of his truck cab, didn’t seem to notice.

“Axel?”

His hands flinched. He looked down at her and smiled. “Donna,” he said.

“The fog’s gone. Maybe we can leave now.”

Without a word, he jumped down. When he hit the asphalt road, his left leg buckled, but he kept his balance.

“What’s going on?” Sandy called to them.

“We’re leaving.”

The three of them unpacked the Maverick and transferred the suitcases to the bed of the pickup truck. Then they climbed inside, Donna sitting between Axel and her daughter.

“Help me remember where the car is,” she told Sandy.

“Will we come back for it?”

“We sure will.”

Axel steered his truck onto the road. He grinned at Donna. She grinned back.

“You smell good,” he said.

She thanked him.

Then he was quiet. On the radio, Jeannie C. Riley sang about the Harper Valley PTA. Donna fell asleep before the end of the song. She opened her eyes, sometime later, saw the truck’s headlights opening a path through the darkness of the curving road, and shut them again. Later, she was awakened when Axel started to sing along in his thick, low voice, with “The Blind Man in the Bleachers.” She drifted again into sleep. A hand on her thigh woke her up.

Axel’s hand.

“Here we are,” he said. Lifting the hand away, he pointed.

The headlights lit a metal sign: WELCOME TO MALCASA POINT, POP. 400. DRIVE WITH CARE.

Looking ahead through the bars of a wrought-iron fence, Donna saw a dark Victorian house: a strange mixture of bay windows, gables, and balconies. At one end of the roof, a cone-shaped peak jabbed at the night. “What’s this place?” she asked in a whisper.

“Beast House,” said Axel.

The Beast House?”

He nodded.

“Where the murders were?”

“They were fools.”

“Who?”

“They went in at night.”

He slowed the truck.

“What are you…?”

He turned left onto an unpaved road directly across from the ticket booth of Beast House. Ahead of them, perhaps fifty yards up the road, stood a two-story brick house with a garage.

“Here we are,” Axel said.

“What is this?”

“Home. It’s safe.”

“Mom?” Sandy’s voice was like a moan of despair.

Donna took the girl’s hand. The palm was sweaty.

“It’s safe,” Axel repeated.

“It doesn’t have windows. Not a single window.”

“No. It’s safe.”

“We’re not going in there, Axel.” 5.

“Isn’t there someplace else we can spend the night?” Donna asked.

“No.”

“Isn’t there?”

“I want you here.”

“We won’t stay here. Not in that house.”

“Mother’s here.”

“It’s not that. Just take us someplace else. There has to be some kind of motel or something.”

“You’re mad at me,” he said.

“No, I’m not. Just take us someplace else, where we can stay till morning.”

He backed the pickup onto the road, and drove through the few blocks of Malcasa Point’s business section. At the north end of town was a Chevron station. Closed. Half a mile beyond it, Axel pulled into the lighted parking lot of the Welcome Inn. Overhead, a red neon sign flashed the word VACANCY.

“This is just fine,” Donna said. “Let’s just unload our luggage, and we’ll be all set.”

They climbed from the truck. Reaching into the back, Axel pulled out the suitcases.

“I’ll go home,” he said.

“Thanks a lot for helping us like you did.”

He grinned and shrugged.

“Yeah,” said Sandy. “Same here.”

“Wait.” His grin became very big. Reaching into a hip pocket, he pulled out his billfold. The black leather looked old, shiny with a dull gloss from so much use, and ragged at the corners. It flopped open. He spread the lips of its bill compartment, which was bloated more with a thick assortment of papers and cards than with money. Holding the billfold inches from his nose, he searched it. He began to mutter. He looked at Donna with a silent plea

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