'We really are not obligated to abide by any rules,' Falcon confided in them. 'Believe that. The only reason we are here is to give you young people a chance to come to your senses.'
'He is not lying,' the heavy voice said as it sprang into Sam's head. 'You may accept the offer from the devil's agent and become one of the undead. There will be no more trials and tests should that be your decision. The choice is yours.'
'Tested by both God and Satan?' Sam flung the silent question. 'How much is to be placed on my shoulders, and when does it end?'
But the mysterious voice was silent.
Both Roma and Falcon were once again aware of the strange power in the room, neither of them understanding it.
'Your decision, young man?' Falcon urged.
'Go to hell!' Sam told him.
Both Roma and Falcon laughed, Falcon saying, 'Oh, we've been there, many times. Even at its best, it is a dismal place.'
'Then we'll do our best to avoid it.' Sam locked eyes with the man.
'Very well,' Roma said. '1 would suggest the both of you enjoy your . . . day of rest.' Both she and the warlock laughed.
The witch and the warlock vanished before their eyes, leaving behind them a foul odor of sulfur.
Nydia's hand covered Sam's fingers and he gently squeezed it. 'It'll be all right,' he said.
A different odor covered the departing smell of Roma and Falcon. This one was hideous, stinking of stale blood and rotting flesh, of the grave and beyond.
Nydia looked up, her nose wrinkling at the smell. Her eyes widened, face paling. She began to scream.
Sam started to turn around, to see what Nydia was viewing. Something savage smashed into his head and he fell, tumbling into painful darkness.
'They have all withdrawn from sight,' Wade said, putting down the shotgun. He was very tired, and he had left his bifocals at home, having to make do with an old, inadequate pair of glasses he kept in the glove compartment for emergencies.
'They have withdrawn—period,' Miles said. He put his shotgun on a table, Doris frowning as the front sight scarred the polished wood. But she said nothing to her husband of oh-so-many years. Good years … all of them. No regrets.
And she was sorry she had called him a klutz so many times over those years. But even with that feeling of love and penitence, she had to smile. Miles was clumsy … always had been. She said prayers even when he tried such a simple task as changing a light bulb. Especially if he had to stand on a stepladder. For if he didn't fall off the ladder, he would always manage to drop one of the bulbs; usually the good one.
But she loved him, loved him with all her heart: he was such a good, decent man. Just like Wade, but in a completely different way. Both of them were honest, decent, and Godfearing, helpful to people in need, no matter what race or religion. She sighed in remembrance.
She turned her attentions back to the men, who were, as usual, arguing.
'… in hell do you know that?' Wade was saying.
'I know. I feel it. Something drastic has happened. You wait, you'll see. Sam will tell you I'm right.'
'He is right.' Balon's voice jarred them all.
They still could not accustom themselves to Balon's sudden appearances.
Balon said: 'They will not be back here. Ever. They will come for Jane Ann on the night before their final night on earth.'
'And us?' Miles asked hopefully. One could always keep a bit of optimism that The Man might change His mind.
'We will exit this life together.'
Miles muttered something inaudible to human ears.
'I heard that,' Balon said.
'So sue me,' Miles replied.
'What about him? It?' Doris pointed toward the front steps, at the golem sitting hugely, impassively.
'He requires no aid, no comfort, no food or water—he is all those things. He will sit thusly until he is needed. When he is done with here, he will return to the river.'
'I feel sorry for him,' Anita said.
'Oh, for heaven's sake, honey,' Wade said. 'He's made of clay; he has no emotions, no feelings, no concept of what a human experiences. And I still don't believe he's really here.'
'Don't blaspheme,' Miles said quickly. 'Now is not the time. Just accept.'
Balon spoke to Wade: 'You are wrong. God breathed life into him, so he does have feelings. He has feelings of protectiveness toward the four of you. But since he has no tongue, he cannot express them. Since he has no eyes, he cannot see you—as you know vision—so you cannot see his feelings. But that is just as well. Doris would probably have had him in for coffee and cake.'
'And didn't I have
