'She'll turn up,' Judy replied, with the eternal optimism of the young. 'I bet she's all right.'
He turned on the road leading out of town and Judy glanced sharply at him.
'This isn't the way to my apartment, Mr. Gibson.'
'I know.'
'Then—' She let the question dangle in the closed air of the car. It was then she noticed Mr. Gibson sure needed a bath. He smelled bad.
Will looked at her and smiled. In the dim light from the dash, she saw his teeth. His blood red swollen tongue. She noticed his very pale lips.
She felt panic rise up strong within her as he reached for her arm. She tried to pull away, but his grip was as powerful as a man three times his size.
'Please, Mr. Gibson!'
'We're going to have some fun,' he told her. 'Just the two of us.'
'I want to go home!'
He clamped down with his new strength, bruising her flesh. She screamed in pain.
'Please take me home!'
'No more talk of home, girl. You just sit quietly and don't start any trouble. I'm not going to hurt you.' Not much, that is, he thought.
She opened her mouth to protest and he slapped her, bloodying her lips. The sight of her blood filled him with the strange new hunger. Glancing in the mirror, he saw the road was clear behind him. He pulled over and turned down a seldom used country road, then turned off that onto an old logging road, now grown over with brush.
Judy began crying and begging.
Will cut the engine and turned off the lights. He pulled the frightened crying girl to him. To her disgust and horror, he began licking the blood from her lips while his free hand roamed her body. His breath was foul-smelling, sickening her almost as much as his tongue licking at her lips and face.
She began screaming and fighting him as he ripped the clothes from her. The rain grew heavy, drumming on the roof of the car parked in the woods. Her screaming could not be heard more than twenty yards away.
She fought him harder, but it was a useless gesture, for his strength came from the supernatural. He hit her with his fist and banged her head against the door, stunning her. When she came to her senses, rising out of a red painful mist, she was naked and Will was positioned between her legs. She could feel his throbbing hardness pushing at her.
She screamed as he took her, penetrating her with one hard shove.
She could not understand why he was biting her on the neck.
Jon and Patsy stood away from the circle of men and women in the huge room. After recovering from their initial fright at seeing black-robed men and women and a dark-haired woman, lying naked on a black-draped altar, the strange sights and sounds and smells began to intrigue the young couple. Norman Giddon had apologized for thrusting them too quickly into the scheme of things that evening. Said he could understand their fright. He had escorted them into a smaller room and given them refreshments. The drinks were very cold and very sweet. One seemed to call for another, and then another of the cold sweet beverage. Soon fear of the unknown had vanished as the drugged drinks began soaring through the systems of Jon and Patsy.
Norman Giddon stroked the arm of Patsy and said, 'My, you certainly did enjoy your initiation into sex this afternoon, didn't you, my dear?'
She looked at the middle-aged man. The drinks had loosened her tongue as well as her inhibitions. 'Yeah, once he got it in it felt good.'
'I suppose it was a bit on the rough side, dear, but you have laid in your bed many nights and—how do I say this?' He giggled. 'Let your fingers do the walking, so to speak. Correct, my child?'
She did not blush. Those days were past and would not return. Not only for Patsy, but for the majority of the residents of Logandale. 'How do you know these things, Mr. Giddon?'
'That is something that will be explained in time, my dear. For now, just be content that you are one of us.'
Good attempted to override its counterpart. 'I am a Christian, Mr. Giddon.'
'No, you are not, dear.' He met her gaze. 'You have mouthed the words since childhood, but your inner thoughts have betrayed your true feelings many times. You see, dear, my, or I should say,
Patsy drank another cup of the sweet drink and thought about his remarks. She realized he was telling the truth, although he was twisting the words all out of context. 'Perhaps you're right,' she said. She looked at the altar. 'Is that woman dead, or what?'
Norman smiled. 'She is very much alive. And she is there of her own volition.'
'Why?'
'She is a part (of the proceeding this evening. You shall see.'
Patsy nodded her head in agreement. 'All right. It won't hurt to stay here for a little while, I guess. Just to see what's going on. I can always leave whenever I choose.'
The black-robed man smiled again. The battle was won, and he knew it.
