behind him. Jim swiveled his gaze back to the boy. 'Okay. Where the hell are they?'
The boy licked his lips. 'I had this dream a few nights ago--'
'Where the hell are they?'
'Let me finish my story!' The boy looked as though he was about to cry. His shaking hands were balled into fists, and frustration and fear were battling it out for supremacy on his face. A hank of hair fell across his forehead and he angrily nipped it back. Jim took a deep breath and nodded. It wasn't the kid's fault; the boy was doing the best he could. 'All right,' the sheriff said quietly. 'Tell me what happened.'
The boy looked at him for a moment, not sure he wanted to tell him. 'I had this dream a few nights ago,' he said finally. 'And I saw the Selwaysbeing murdered.'
A dream?
Jim felt his heart begin to pound in his ears, but he forced himself to remain calm. 'By who?' he asked.
Don looked at the floor, his feet shuffling nervously, crossing and crisscrossing his legs. He did not look up. 'I ... I can't tell you,'
he said.
'Yes you can.'
'No, I can't. You won't believe me.'
'Yes I will.' His voice softened. 'Tell me,' he said.
The boy looked up at him. 'Monsters,' he said. 'It was too dark to see what they looked like, but they were monsters.' He looked at Jim, to make sure he wouldn't laugh.
But Jim did not feel like laughing.
'There were a whole bunch of them,' the boy continued, again staring at the ground. 'They broke into The Selways’ house and took them off to the dump.' His legs were doing nervous figure eights on the carpet.
'They .. . they killed the little baby first. They tore her apart and ate her. Then they tore the other kids apart, ripping open their skin.
There were hundreds of them. Then they .. . they .. . ripped off Mrs.
Selway'shead while she stood there and made Father Selway watch.' He looked up at Jim, his eyes shiny with remembered terror. 'Her body just sort of crumpled to the ground, like in slow motion, and I could see all the veins and muscles and things popping out of her neck and squirming around. Blood was everywhere. It was squirting up like a fountain.'
'Which dump was this at?'
'The one off the control road. By Geronimo Wells.'
Jim nodded. 'Go on.'
The boy's eyes focused on a point far away, in his mind. 'They . the monsters .. . played with Mrs.Selway's head for a while, throwing it around and kicking it. Her eyes opened and closed as it flew through the air. There were a lot of them around, but I still couldn't see them. They were in the shadows. But I could see Mrs.Selway's head real good. And I could see Father Selway perfectly. He was just standing there, staring. Then one of them reached over and turned Father Selway toward the fire.'
'What fire?' Jim asked.
'The one where they burn all the wood and paper.'
'It was night?'
'Yeah. They made him look at the fire and said ...' Don looked down, his hands now trembling badly. He clamped his hands between his legs to hold them still. His face, framed by the long greasy hair, was taut and serious, the muscles pulled tight. 'They said, 'Worship your new God' or 'Bow down before your new God' or something like that. And then .. . something .. . started to come out of the fire. It was huge.
It was big and black and looked like it had two horns.' He looked at Jim. 'It looked like the devil.'
Jim reached over and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. 'Was that all?' he asked.
'No.' Don shook his head. 'All of a sudden, the fire went out and Father Selway and the devil were gone and the other monsters shoved Mrs.Selway's body into a big hole. Then they threw her head in a little hole and threw the kids in another hole and covered them all up.'
'Where? What part of the dump?'
'Under the garbage, by the big tree next to the cliff. Right next to a tractor.'
Jim jumped up. 'Carl!' he called. The deputy pushed the door immediately open. 'Get the posse together. We're going to search for The Selways’ bodies.'
'But I thought--'
'Never mind what you thought. Get everyone together. Tell them we'll meet out at the Geronimo Wells landfill. Now!'
Carl ran down the hall toward the switchboard out front, his boots clicking loudly on the tile.
Jim turned back toward the boy. He looked even smaller and paler than he had before. His hands, between his legs, were clasped together, and sweat was running in twin lines down both sides of his face from beneath his hair. Jim looked at the boy and tried to smile reassuringly. He didn't know why he believed the kid, but he did.
Jesus, he thought. His mind really was going. Not just scared of his own dreams, but believing others' as well. 'Why did you wait 'til now to tell us?' he asked Don.
'I thought it was just a nightmare. I didn't know it was real. I didn't know anything had happened.' His lower lip started to tremble.
His hand intercepted a tear sneaking down his cheek. 'I just found out that the Selways were missing this morning. I didn't know.'
Jim patted the boy's shoulder. 'It's okay, son.' The boy wiped away another tear. 'But how come you wouldn't tell anyone except me?'
'You were in the dream. I knew you'd understand. I knew you'd know I
didn't do it. I knew you'd know I wasn't really there, I didn't really see anything.'
A bolt of fear--wild, irrational--shot through Jim's body, causing his heart to trip-hammer crazily. A wave of cold washed over him. He stared at the boy. He had never seen this kid before in his life; he did not look even vaguely familiar.
But he had automatically believed his story.
And, he realized, something about the boy's dream seemednaggingly , disturbingly true. It had seemed right. As if this were knowledge he'd already had but just could not bring to consciousness. As if the boy had simply put known facts together in a new way; a way he understood intuitively, on a gut level, but could not reason out.
The boy was right, he knew. He had been in that dream somehow, although he could remember none of it. He turned back to Don. His voice was not as assured as he would have liked, but he forced himself to speak anyway. 'What was I doing in your dream?'
'You were just standing there watching. Like me.' The boy licked his lips. 'Like everyone else.'
The cold intensified. 'Who else?'
'I don't know. You were the only one I recognized. But I'd know them if I saw them.'
Carl poked his head in the door. 'Car's ready, Sheriff. I called the posse and they're going to meet us there.'
Jim put on his hat and grabbed his holster. 'Okay.' He strapped on the belt and looked at Don. 'You coming?'
'Do I have to?'
Jim shook his head.
'Then no, I'd rather not.'
'Okay.' He looked into the boy's face and saw underneath the childish features a maturity; maturity that had been forced upon him and for which he was not exactly ready but which he was able to cope with. The kid had handled himself well, he thought. Better than a lot of adults would have under similar circumstances. He wished this could be the end of it, the boy could just go home and forget about everything, letting the sheriff's office handle the situation, his civic duty done.
But there was a lot more to come. It would be tough on the kid. 'We have some more talking to do,' he said. 'Leave your name and address with Rita out at the front desk. I'll get in touch with you later.'
Don stood up, wiping sweaty palms on his faded jeans. 'Do you have to tell my parents about it?'
Jim thought for a moment. Tell his parents what? That they'd decided to look for bodies at the dump because
