came out of that hole in the ground was hideous. When I walked closer … I don't know how to explain this … the growl that came out of the hole was … not menacing as much as it sounded like a warning. To me. As if whatever it was in there was telling me to stay away. This sounds funny—odd, I mean—but it seemed to me like it was saying it didn't want to hurt me.
'Your mother, Falcon, Black … do they ever go back there?'
'Sure! It's just in back of the circle of stones. Big hole in the ground. I've been to the circle dozens of times since then. But no farther.'
Sam thought of the tales the kids used to tell back in Whitfield: stories about monsters and Devil-Beasts, and about what happened to cause the state to fence off the area known as The Digging. And he remembered stories about deep holes in the ground: holes that emit a very foul odor. A hideous odor.
Just as they began walking the hall, a door slammed in the house. 'Run!' Sam whispered, and they raced down the hallway, up the steps, and to their rooms. In their haste, neither noticed the cartridge fall from Nydia's pocket, the brass gleaming dully on the dark carpet.
Footsteps slowly tracked them, shuffling up the steps, down the hallway. They stopped, a hand reaching down, long, bony, pale fingers closing around the brass. Jimmy Perkins looked at the cartridge, grinning grotesquely. He put the cartridge in his pocket, then shuffled down the hall to Nydia's room. He stood for a moment, listening, his ear to the door.
Had to be that young man that Sam Balon fathered, he thought. Snooping with Nydia. Found Mr. Falcon's gun room. Both up to something. But, he grinned, almost chuckling, I won't tell Mr. Falcon. His smile grew more obscene. Maybe Miss Nydia would give him some of that tight young pussy in return for keeping his mouth shut? It was worth a try. He'd see about that if he didn't forget. He turned away to get the silver goblet he'd been sent to fetch. The thought of fucking Miss Nydia burned in his tormented mind. The front of his pants bulged.
'Jimmy Perkins,' Nydia whispered. 'He's the only one who walks with a shuffle. He's horrible!'
They flushed the food on the trays down the toilet, leaving just enough on the plates to satisfy any curious minds, then Sam began cleaning the guns, inspecting them, hiding them. He horseshoed the shelter halves, blankets inside the horseshoes, and fastened them to the backpacks after he and Nydia packed a few items of clothing, the ammunition, and most of the rope. They stowed the packs in the closet, behind some luggage. It was the best they could do, knowing it would not fool any thorough search.
'Tomorrow,' Sam said, 'we swipe some food from the kitchen: canned goods, anything that will keep without refrigeration. A sack full, at least. It'll be heavy, but it has to be.'
'Are you planning on us running, Sam? Into the timber?'
'I … guess so, eventually.' He looked into her serious eyes. 'Nydia ... I don't really know what we're going to do. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I just wish Dad had been more specific. If that was my dad. I guess it was,' he added lamely, and with a heavy sigh. 'If he had told me: Sam, I want you to destroy that house and everyone in it—I would do it. Be doing it right now. But, Nydia, I just don't know what I'm supposed to do!'
'I know, Sam.' She took his hands in hers. 'I've been kind of … blocking everything out. That your dad said, I mean. Mother a witch. Falcon and Black warlocks.' She tried a laugh that didn't come across. 'It's something out of a very bad movie script. I want to believe—and do, in part, I guess—but another part of me says … Oh, Sam—I don't know. I'm like you: I'm so confused.' She leaned forward and kissed his mouth. 'But whatever happens, Sam, I know you'll take care of me.' She said it confidently, with all the love and trust in her.
Sam put his arms around her, savoring the scent of her hair. He had to fight to keep his thoughts from becoming too negative.
Dad? Sam flung the plea into the darkness. Please tell me what I'm supposed to do.
Roma met them in the hall at midmorning. 'Did you young people sleep well?' The question was asked with a smile.
Nydia returned the smile. 'Almost as if we were drugged, Mother.'
A pulse surged heavily in the older woman's neck, but her smile remained fixed. 'I'm so glad you both rested well.' She searched them both for thoughts, but as she suspected, she was blocked from their minds. 'What do you two have planned for today?'
Plotting your total destruction, I suppose, Sam thought. 'Nothing special. Might take a walk in the timber. It looks beautiful.'
'Oh, but it is. Do return in time for a rest this afternoon,' Roma said. 'Falcon and I have such a gala evening planned.'
Like what? Sam thought. Drinking human blood? 'I promise we'll be in attendance, Roma.'
'And you don't even know what we have planned,' Roma said, smiling.
'Oh … I imagine something novel,' Sam said dryly.
'At least that.' Roma patted his cheek, her fingers warm on his flesh. She shifted her gaze to Nydia as her fingers lingered on Sam's cheek. 'You're a lucky girl, Nydia. I hope you realize that.'
'I know, Mother.' The reply was softly stated. And you should see him with a full erection, she thought.
Crude, Nydia! Sam flung his thoughts.
Couldn't resist it.
The women smiled and purred at each other, their claws barely concealed, until Sam pulled Nydia away, toward the dining area. The large room was empty except for Lana and Susan. Linda and Judy had been sleeping when Nydia looked in on them before coming downstairs.
The rest of Black's young guests had not gotten in until just before dawn. They were still sleeping.
Sam and Nydia had no choice but to eat, for they were ravenous, not having eaten for eighteen hours. They would have to take a chance on the purity of the food. They filled their plates and joined the two young women.
'Hey, you two!' Lana beamed up at them. 'We missed you yesterday. Heard you had to go into Montreal. Oh,
