chairs from the breakfast table in all directions. He lurched onto the back porch and tore the porch door from its hinges in his haste to escape the priest's rage and the hideous sight of that awful cross.
Father Le Moyne pursued him, shouting at the undead, raining down God's words on the creature. Monty grabbed the priest by the seat of the pants before he could get off the porch and hauled him back into the kitchen.
'Stay inside!' Monty yelled at the man.
Father Le Moyne calmed himself and nodded his head in agreement. 'Yes. Yes, you're quite right, Chief. There is no telling what might be lurking outside in wait.' He seemed confused for a moment. 'But it's daylight; the sun is shining. I never knew those—things roamed about under God's sunlight.'
Before Monty could reply, Richard Hasseling charged into the kitchen. 'Do you have any idea what you're saying, Daniel? Have you any idea what you're implying?' He was screaming the questions. His face was pale and his hands were trembling. 'That poor man was ill. Perhaps mentally deranged. But he wasn't a—a
Catholic had taken just about all of Baptist he could safely tolerate. Le Moyne looked at Hasseling and said disgustedly, 'Oh—stick it in your ear, Richard!'
SIX
Max ran from the house in fright and confusion. He did not care where he ran, just get away. The sight of the Cross had filled him with dread. And the bright sun was hurting his eyes. He did not know what he was, where he was, and what had caused this change in him. He knew only that he must have blood to survive. The blood of an animal would not do. He must have fresh human blood. And have it quickly. He had awakened in the rear of an emergency unit, disoriented and weak. He could not remember his name, what he did for a living, or even where he lived. All he knew for sure was that he was caught between two worlds. And this was all there would ever be for him. How he knew that was now beyond his now rather limited sphere of comprehension; but he knew.
He ran down the small alley and ducked into the rear of a house. He slipped onto the back porch and looked inside. A man and a woman were in the kitchen, having a snack of pie and coffee.
'Gimmie another piece of this pie, Ann,' the man said. 'Stuffs almost good as pussy.'
Ann laughed, cut him another piece of pie, and left the kitchen.
Ann was on the pudgy side, but still attractive. The man was grossly overweight. Heart attack candidate, Max thought, then wondered why he would think that.
The man's back was to Max. Max looked around and spotted a small axe leaning against the wall. He picked it up. He slipped into the kitchen, raised the hatchet over his head, and sank the bit into the man's head. The man died without making a sound. His face dropped with a plop into his second helping of pie. Apple. His brains splattered all over the table. Max knelt down and lapped at the blood from the man's shattered head. He spit out a bit of pie—that was distasteful to him—and continued lapping at the flow of blood.
He heard the woman returning and stepped quickly behind a door. Ann stepped into the kitchen, viewed the scene before her, wet her pants, then fainted without making a sound.
When she came to her senses, having been out for no more than a couple of minutes, she was naked on the kitchen floor, Max hunching between her wide spread legs, thrusting himself into her. Her neck was sore, and she thought she must have hurt it when she fell. She tried to fight the man raping her, but found his strength too much. She tried to scratch him, and that got her a brutal fist to the jaw. She dropped into darkness, not understanding why the man was saying, 'It will be all right in a few minutes. You'll see. Then you will understand.'
She fell into unconsciousness at the sound of him sucking at her neck.
When she returned to consciousness, she was very weak, scarcely able to move. Her arms and legs were cold, as if they had been drained of blood. She looked at the half naked man standing over her. She tried to call to him, to ask him for help. But the words would not form on her tongue; her tongue felt swollen and thick.
Max laughed at her, a wild, insane light in his eyes. He picked up the small axe. She watched in horror as he laughed and brought the axe down on her chest. She could feel very little pain as he hacked at her. She closed her eyes.
Max hacked at the naked woman, chopping off one arm at the elbow and then whacking off one foot at the ankle. He mangled her chest and face. Max threw down the axe and pulled on his trousers. He found a pair of sunglasses and put them on. He felt much better as he left the house. He kept to the shadows, doing his best to stay out of direct sunlight.
After a few minutes, Ann stirred on the kitchen floor and crawled to her hands and knees. Two knees, one hand.
There was blood splattered all over the kitchen. But it was her husband's blood, not hers.
She pulled herself up and caught the edge of the stove for support and heaved herself up, holding onto the stove for balance. Half her face was missing, but most of her teeth were still in her face. Four of her teeth had changed in shape and size. She lurched around the kitchen, finding a hammer and some clothesline cord. She tied the hammer handle around her severed ankle. Ann lurched and banged and clumped about the house, knocking over tables and lamps. She thudded into a bedroom, found her housecoat, and covered her mangled nakedness. She looked out into the street and found the bright sunlight hurt her eyes.
She was weak and very thirsty, but decided she had best wait until night before leaving the house. She thudded and banged her way back to the kitchen and stood for a moment, looking at her dead husband. She felt no emotions. She craved blood. But she did not want to lap at his cold blood. She grinned hideously.
She wanted hot living blood.
Nydia looked at the exhausted sleeping boy sprawled naked on the bed. She silently slipped from his side. She dressed quietly and left the house. She knew she had done something very wrong, but despite the feeling, she could not completely shake off the lingering effects of the Dark One's grip.
Then she felt guilt wash over her in waves. She mentally fought the forces of evil, winning a small battle. Then the pleasures she had experienced with Jon overrode the small victory. She pulled away from the curb, aware of the many faces looking at her. A face seemed to fill each window of every house along the block. The eyes were of the darkest evil. Nydia shuddered as she felt the corruption touching her.
