The Midnight Tour

Dana pulled him against herself and gave him one long, hard kiss. Then she eased him away, turned around and opened the door.

'Be careful,” he called after her.

“Bye-bye, honey,” she said, and hurried to the curb.

The fog was much thicker than before.

She could hardly see to the other side of the road. The street lights looked as if they’d been muffled with cotton.

A block away, the marquee of The Haunted Palace was a shapeless, fuzzy red blur.

Shivering, Dana rubbed her arms.

She glanced both ways, looking for headlights. Then she dashed across Front Street. At the other side, she leaped the curb, swerved to the right, and sprinted up the sidewalk toward Beast House in a race to beat the midnight deadline.

Chapter Fifty-five

WARNINGS

“I know you’re all freezing,” Lynn called, walking backwards at the front of the group. “So I’ll spare you my usual twenty minute speech in front of the porch, and we’ll go straight in.”

“Here here!” bellowed the professor.

As they hurried along, Vein zipped up her leather jacket. Darke let go of Owen’s hand and huddled against his side. He put an arm around her back. Through the thin silk of her shirt, he felt her shaking.

“Hang on,” he said. He pulled off his Crawfotd Junior High School windbreaker. 'Here, put this on.” He held it open while Darke slipped her arms into the sleeves.

Though her black blouse was still unbuttoned, exposing bare skin all the way down to her waist, she drew the windbreaker shut and fastened its snaps. Trembling, she smiled up at Owen. 'Thanks,” she said, then once again tucked herself in against his side.

Again, he put his arm around her back.

Turning his head, he pushed his face into her soft hair.

'Oh. how sweet,” came Monica’s voice from somewhere behind him. “Owie’s got a boyfriend.”

As she spoke the last word, Darke reached back and slipped a hand down inside the seat pocket of Owen’s jeans.

'If you look to your left,” Lynn announced, “you may note that something seems to be missing.”

Owen looked. Through the iron bars of the front fence, he saw the lawn dissolve into fog. There was no trace at all of Beast House.

“We may have to rethink our plans for the tour,” Lynn said.

“This is so cool,” Darke said quietly to Owen..

“Yeah.”

“I just love the fog.”

“Me, too,” he said. 'Do you get much of it where you live?”

'Not much.”

Somewhere in the fog ahead of them, Lynn said, “Go all the way up to the house.”

“Where do you live?” Owen asked.

'Tucson.”

'Arizona”

Darke nodded. “I’m in grad school at the university.”

“What’re you working on?”

'Go on up to the house,” Lynn said, closer now. “I’ll be along in a minute.”

“An M.A. in literature. Vein, too. We’re roomies.”

Following those in front of them, they turned to the left just before the ticket booth. They passed Lynn, who was holding the gate open.

“Go all the way up to the house,” she told them. 'I’ll be along in a minute.”

As they headed up the walkway, Lynn repeated the instructions to those behind them.

“Is Darke your real name?” Owen asked.

“Of course not,” she said.

Soon, the black shape of Beast House began to emerge through the fog. Somehow, it made Owen think of a ghost ship bearing down on them.

“Look at that,” he said. “It’s like something out of William Hope Hodgson.”

The hand in his back pocket squeezed his rump. “You been talking to Vein?”

“Huh?”

“I just love Hodgson.”

“You’re kidding,” Owen said. “Most people have never even heard of him.”

“You meet the coolest people on a Beast House tour.” She squeezed his butt again. “Who else do you like?”

'Herbert.”

'Herbert who?” Darke asked.

'James.”

'Herbert James? Any relation to Henry?”

“I hate Henry,” Owen said.

'I love Herbert,” said Darke. 'And you’re right about Henry. He’s a bore. And he don’t know shit about rats.”

They climbed the porch stairs. In the midst of the other tourists, they turned around and waited,. A few more people, down on the walkway, were materializing out of the fog.

Then Lynn appeared. 'Is everybody ready for the Midnight Tour?” she called.

A few scattered voices replied, ‘Ready.’ and 'All set,” and 'Any time.”

“It’s terribly cold out here,” complained the woman in the tennis outfit. Since the last time Owen had noticed her, she’d put her sweater on.

'Colder than a witch’s tit,” said Arnold.

“Colder than a zombie’s dick,” said Dennis.

'Colder than...”

Raising a hand, Lynn said, “Guys, guys, guys.”

'Morons.” The quiet mutter came from Monica. She sounded as if she were standing directly behind Owen.

'There are ladies present,” Clive proclaimed.

“It’s an unexpurgated tour, dude,” Dennis said.

“Right on,” said Arnold.

Stopping at the foot of the porch stairs, Lynn said, “I’m sure everyone would appreciate...”

A dark, running shape raced out of the fog behind her.

'Look out!” someone shouted.

She whirled around.

'It’s me, it’s me!”

Owen recognized the voice and the tall, shapely figure.

Dana.

He felt as if an old friend had shown up. Strangely, however, he didn’t find himself excited or even very interested in her arrival.

The lack of interest made him feel as if he’d somehow let her down,

That’s crazy, he told himself. She never cared about me.

We’re strangers.

But I wanted her so badly!