I heard him wail as the head came up at him and he tried to hit it a
second time and it moved so that he overshot his mark, and saw the jaws
clamp down on his arm just above the wrist. His scream went higher,
shriller. Beneath it the awful crunch of bone as the jaws ground down
and through him and the hand crumbled away, falling off his arm,
falling slowly like the limb of a tree under a chain saw.
I got to my feet.
Light swung wildly around me as he battered the dog with his
flashlight. His bad hand, I thought idiotically. I could see the gout
of blood pulsing, pouring off his other wrist, the long slash mark on
the animal's back where I'd hit him.
I ran toward them, off-balance this time, and reached them just as the
flashlight flew out of the bandaged hand in a wide arc and the animal
moved again. The light guttered out, clattering against stone, and
then went on again, its beam playing over the floor to the right of me.
My second stab at him had been darkness. The pitchfork jarred against
solid rock.
When the light went on again there was just a gurgling sound.
Steve was facing me, sitting, his back to the wall beside the
entranceway. His eyes were rolled up so only the whites showed. His
head lolled off to one side. His mouth was open, and something dark
spilled down across his chin.
The dog was at his stomach.
Pulling.
I froze.
The dog's haunches tensed as it tugged again.
He seemed to fold and sigh, his body sliding down the dark wet wall.
Ismelled urine and feces. In his lap everything turned a ghastly
white.
The dog let go. Its jaws continued working something. Its head turned
slowly and looked at me.
I backed away.
The animal just stood there, watching me. Its eye catching a beam of
light. The room was filled with the stink of us. I backed away
further, slowly. There was a column just to the left of me. I wanted
to put it between us. I wanted to hide.
I watched his eyes.
My hands clenched the c<
The animal turned, its old dark body full of luxurious power, and
stalked me.
It crossed the beam of light. I saw the tongue slide along its chops.
Its mouth was bright with blood. I saw the calm assured ness in every
move.
When the easy trot began, I turned and ran.
It was ludicrous, impossible.
Just as impossible not to try.
I ran for the column.
He caught me high on the calf and I went down. The pitchfork tumbled
from my hands. I felt the fangs go through me almost painlessly, like
razors through soft butter. There was a moment of shrieking terror.
Then my head slammed hard against damp, slimy rock. I saw something
move far away in front of me, against the farthest wall.
I heard laughter. Female laughter.
It was not Casey's. It was old and clogged and choking.
And then I felt nothing at all.
^^^^^^^^Am . m
When I woke, the room was running red with blood.
I lay in a small pool of it. It had run down the side of my head from
just above my left ear. It was caked over my eyelids, in my lashes. My
vision was a dull red too. That seemed to mean I still had some blood
left inside me. That was nice.
The red was flecked with yellow. Starburst. Tiny explosions.
Something huge and awful was gnawing at my leg. I looked down at it.
It seemed to contain its own cruel, throbbing heartbeat. A match for
the one in my head. I had three heartbeats. Undisputably I was alive
then. I had no right to be.
The leg looked wet and horrible.
Thank god for Steven's flashlight, I thought.
I looked around. No black shapes beside me. None anywhere that I
could see.
I looked where I thought Steven's body should be. It wasn't there
anymore. For a moment I hoped I'd imagined the entire thing. But
no.
I looked for Casey. I was disoriented now. I knew she'd been up
against one of the columns. Somewhere over there. She ought to have
had her back to me. I couldn't see her.
I tried to stand up. It was still too painful and I was much too
dizzy. I groaned. It didn't seem to sound as though it came from me.
I settled for pushing myself up. Hands to the floor, head dangling. It
hurt less that way.
'Clan?'
A tiny voice, coming from a darkened alcove behind me. to turn
around.
'Clan?'
I heard tears and misery. It was her voice, but changed somehow. I
could almost smell the tears, their salt humidity. I got out the name,
a whisper.
'Casey.'
It made me feel much better. We were both alive in there.
'You all right, Case?'
She shuffled out of the shadows, her face very pale. The naked right
