way, going slower now that she realized the tunnel had turns. Her right hip burned. She felt a warm trickle down her leg. The paring knife in her panties must have cut her during the fall. She pulled it out.
Except for her own sobbing and gasps for air and the slap of her feet on the hard earth of the tunnel floor, she heard nothing. If the beast was coming after her, it must be far back.
Maybe it was too badly hurt to follow.
It can see in the dark, that much she knew from the diary.
She wished she had burned the fucking diary.
None of this would’ve happened. She’d be safe in her bed at the inn and Mom and Dad would still be alive. How had it gotten to them, anyway? They must’ve come looking for her. God, she wished she’d stayed home. It was all her fault. She wished she’d never heard of Brian Blake or Gorman Hardy. They got her into this.
I got myself into this.
I got Mom and Dad killed.
But I can save myself. I can save that woman—Sandy’s mother and the baby—if I can just get out of here. Get help.
Get to Beast House and out to the street. Get to the cops.
The wall went away from her knuckles. She felt blindly with both hands, discovered that the tunnel turned to the left, and hurried through the blackness.
What if there’s a locked door at the other end?
There won’t be. There can’t be.
What if the other beast is waiting up ahead?
No.
What if Wick or Maggie or Agnes or Sandy or all of them reach Beast House first and cut me off?
I’ve still got a knife, she told herself. I’ll rip them up.
And then her thoughts froze as she heard gasping, snarling noises from behind. She rushed on, driven by terror, heedless of the possible turns ahead. The sounds grew louder as she ran. She pumped her arms hard, stretched out her legs as far and fast as she could. Her lungs ached as she sucked breath. All her wounds burned as if their edges were splitting open from the strain. She winced as her right arm scraped a wall. Without slowing, she changed course toward the center.
Now the beast was very close. From the sound of its rattling growl, it could be no more than a yard or two back.
Her left side hit a wall. The blow twisted her. She slammed the moist surface, bounced off it, and fell. She landed on her back.
Staring up into the darkness, she couldn’t see the beast. But she heard a dry hissing sound that was almost like laughter.
Something wet and slimy forced her legs apart. The T-shirt tugged at her, lifting her back from the ground for a moment before it came off her shoulders. She let its sleeves shoot down her limp arms. She felt the points of claws slide down her belly. Her panties were ripped away. Something warm splashed onto her belly, her chest. Its blood.
She felt its hot breath on her face.
“Bastard!” she shrieked, and drove the knife upward. It punched into the thing’s flesh. She jerked it out and stabbed again as the beast wailed in pain. Then it batted her hand. The knife jumped from her numb fingers.
From just beyond her head came a scraping sound like wood sliding over dirt.
The beast clutched her shoulders, its claws digging in Squirming, she rammed a knee into the thing. It kept it grip and knocked her leg aside. Its penis thrust against her thigh.
Its face, just above her own, was dead white and shiny like the flesh of a slug. Saliva spilled onto her from its wide mouth. She wondered why she could suddenly see its face and before she could figure it out the face jerked wildly upward.
The roar that blasted her ears sounded as if the world were exploding.
One of the creature’s eyes was a shiny hole.
A side of its snout flew apart.
Its jaw disintegrated.
She turned her face away as what was left of the beast’s head dropped onto her.
In the silence, Janice’s ears rang.
A man’s voice said, “Holy shit.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“How’re you doing, ladies?” the barmaid asked.
“I could go for…” Nora started.
“I think we should leave,” Tyler interrupted.
“They said we should wait here.”
“I don’t care.” She got up from the table.
Nora shrugged at the barmaid. “Guess that’s all,” she said. She joined Tyler, and they hurried through the dimly lighted cocktail lounge. “What’s the rush, kiddo?”
“I can’t stand waiting any longer. They said they’d be back in an hour.”
“So they’re twenty minutes late. Maybe it took them longer to get in than they planned.” In spite of the reassuring words, Tyler heard tension in her friend’s voice.
She pushed through one of the heavy wooden doors and held it wide while Nora followed her out. She took a deep breath of the chilly night air. Stopping by the antique carriage near the entrance, she gazed toward the road. No cars passed.
Nora wrapped her arm across her breasts, apparently cold in her filmy orange blouse. “Why don’t we go back in and have another drink? They’ll be along pretty soon. I’m sure they’re all right.”
“Are you?”
“Sure. Come on, it’s better than standing out here freezing our tails.”
“I’ll go crazy if I sit still any longer.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t they come?”
“They’re probably on the way, right now.”
Tyler caught her breath as headlights brightened the road. She stared through the trees, and sighed when the vehicle sped past. Just a pickup truck.
“Let’s take the car,” she said.
“Okay. At least it’ll be warm.”
They followed the walkway to the courtyard.
“Have you got your keys?” Nora asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you want to change first?”
“No.”
She rushed to keep up with Tyler’s quick pace. “What’s the big hurry? We’ll probably just pass them on the road, anyway, and have to turn around.”
“At least we’ll know they’re all right.”
“We could miss them, you know. If they parked on a side road…”
“We’ll turn around and come back if we don’t spot the car.” She unlocked her Omni, dropped behind the steering wheel, and reached over to flip up the lock button for Nora. She keyed the ignition as Nora climbed in. When the door thumped, she shot the car backwards.
“For Christsake, calm down.”
“I can’t.” She sped toward the road.
“There’s no reason to panic.”
“They should’ve been back by now.”
“I know, I know.”
