them as much holy water as they wished.
'I just don't know … if my mind can … accept all that's been thrown at me this day,' Nydia said. 'But a lot of things are beginning to fall into place.'
'Explain that?' Sam asked. They were halfway back to the Williams' mansion, eating a mid-afternoon lunch by the side of the road. The lunch they were supposed to have eaten while exploring the woods.
'Well … this is only a small part of it, Sam, but have you ever been in a home that didn't have some religious paraphernalia … somewhere? A painting, a cross, a Bible … something? I haven't. Our house is bare of anything religious. But … that could be explained away by the fact that Roma and Falcon don't go to church. But I know what an upside down cross means, and both Roma and Falcon have those in their rooms. Roma, Falcon, and Black always go somewhere on Friday nights—they stay all night—always returning just before dawn. And they all wear the same kind of medallion.'
'I'm surprised they haven't tried to make you wear one.'
'Oh, they have, dozens of times, beginning when I was just a small child. But it always irritated my neck; caused great ugly rashes; made me sick, very sick. The last time, just a couple of years ago, Roma threw the medallion away. It was gold, Sam! Worth hundreds of dollars, and she just tossed it into the garbage. She flew into a screaming rage and kept saying: 'Damn that son of a bitch! Black Wilder, you knew this was going to happen. And damn that bastard preacher.' I didn't know what she was talking about, Sam. Raving was more like it. And I didn't ask.'
'Dad wrote about Black Wilder. The Devil's representative. The preacher must have been Dad.'
She covered his hand with hers. 'Sam? For years they've kept it from me—or tried to—but they practice evil. I can't prove it, for they're very careful. But I know they do. That house is evil. The people who work for them are evil. And Jimmy Perkins … the way he looks at me. Something about him frightens me.'
'I wish I could recall where I've heard that name.'
They looked up as a huge Sikorsky helicopter flapped and roared overhead. The helicopter, capable of carrying sixteen passengers, was soon out of sight.
'Heading for the house,' Nydia said glumly. 'Poor Lana and the others. They don't have any idea what they're getting into.'
'Lana?'
'Lana McBay. Small, blond, and very pretty. Doesn't date much. Word is . . . around the school … she's a virgin.' Nydia paused for a moment, a reflective look on her face. 'Come to think of it, the word is that several of those girls Black mentioned are supposed to be virgins. Linda, for sure, so the talk goes. But … I don't much like her.'
'Why?'
Her reply was a noncommittal shrug.
'Does Falcon like his women young?'
'Oh, yes,' she quickly replied. 'For a fact. I've seen him looking at me in a way that makes me very uncomfortable. Just like Jimmy.'
'Have either of them ever tried anything with you?'
'Oh, no. Never.'
'Tell me about Falcon. You know he isn't your real father. Has he been around long?'
'For as long as I can remember. There isn't much else to tell. I … really don't know where they get their money—either of them. I was told they both owned interests in a number of factories and businesses, and that this is where they got their money. I do know mother owns a company that makes wine and perfume, another company that makes clothing for women. I've seen those businesses.'
'Tell me about the people who run them. Those you had a chance to meet.'
She was again reflective for a moment. 'Yes, I see what you mean. They . . . seemed to be afraid of Roma, but yet … The sentence trailed into silence. '… The medallions. The top people all wore medallions, like mother and Falcon and Black.'
'And the one your mother tried to make you wear?'
'Just like it.'
'And did they ever meet on a Friday. Friday seems to hold some special significance.'
'Yes. Several times. And it was just like I told you before: they would all disappear about dark and not return until almost dawn. Mother said it was business, and not to worry. I always had someone staying with me, a sitter or companion. Sam? I'm frightened. I don't want to go back to that house.'
'We have to go back, Nydia. I don't believe we could do anything else.'
'Sam, let's try. Let's see if we can just run away—go back to New York State. Please? Let's try.'
Sam hesitated, not wanting to risk angering his father—if any of this was real, and not a dream. He wavered, sensing that Nydia's fear was very close to overwhelming her.
'We'll try,' he said.
But the four-wheel would not start. Sam complained of his chest burning, and the cross around Nydia's neck had begun to glow.
'All right, Dad,' Sam said. 'We get the message.'
The four-wheel started; the burning and the glowing ceased.
'All that could have been a fluke,' Nydia suggested.
Sam turned around, heading back to Montreal. The four-wheel died in the middle of the road. The burning and
