felt like ice in his hand as he tried to hold it steady. The key shook, but finally he got it in. He twisted it and the lock dropped open. He removed it, flipped away the latch, and tugged the door sideways a few feet. He dropped the padlock into his pocket, where it pressed heavy and cold against his thigh.
Jean entered ahead of them. Seconds later the overhead bulb came on and the others stepped into the garage.
Larry was surprised to see the ladder down. Had someone been in here?
Then he remembered that they hadn’t put it up again after the last try.
He stared at the dark opening to the attic.
“What’s this?” Hal nudged Pete’s bow, which lay on the concrete floor beside the quiver of arrows.
“Our insurance,” Pete told him. “Just in case she gets lively after we take out the stake. Hey, maybe you’d like to keep her covered with that. I’ll be busy filming. Any good at archery?”
“I used to be pretty fair,” he said, as he picked up the bow. “I’m no William Tell but...”
“It’ll be point-blank.”
“It won’t be necessary,” Jean said to Hal. “Just more of their foolishness.”
“Well, I’ll be happy to play along.” He left the quiver on the floor, but slipped an arrow out.
“Good man,” Pete said. “Just go for the heart if she turns out to be Dracula’s daughter.”
Hal chuckled softly and nodded.
Pete took a step toward his wife and raised the camera toward her.
“No way, Jose.”
“Hey, come on.”
“And break this one?”
“Don’t be such a pussy.”
“Screw you.”
“Come on, Barb! This is no time to be...”
“I’ll do it,” Jean offered. “Show me how it works.”
“Great. Just get us coming down with the coffin. Then I’ll take over and get Larry when he unsticks the babe.” He gave the camera to Jean, showed her how to hold it, and pointed out the viewfinder. “It’s all set,” he said. “Automatic focus, the whole ball of wax. Just push this button here, and you’re rolling.”
He turned away from her. He grinned at Larry and rubbed his hands together. “Anything you want to say for our home viewers?”
“Let’s just do it,” he said. His voice came out shaky.
Pete slapped his upper arm, then hurried past him to the ladder. As he started to climb, he glanced back at Jean. “You getting this?”
“Yeah.”
Larry waited until Pete crawled onto the attic floor. Then he began climbing. Though he didn’t feel especially cold, he couldn’t stop shaking. His bowels ached. His legs seemed so weak that he feared they might give out.
In a few minutes, he told himself, it’ll all be over.
What if it’s true? he thought.
It’s not. She’s dead. Her “voice” is nothing more than my damned imagination trying to mess with me.
What if she
As Larry’s head rose into the gloom of the attic, he saw himself in bed, Bonnie straddling him, naked and more beautiful than any woman he’d ever had.
What if it could be that way?
He paused, his mind full of her. He could feel her warm hands roaming over his skin, feel the moist softness of her lips, her breasts brushing against his chest, and then her slick tightness sliding down as she slowly impaled herself.
“What’re you waiting for?” Pete asked. “Losing the ol‘ nerve?”
“I’m okay,” he muttered. Clambering onto the attic floor, he realized he
It can’t turn out that way, he told himself. But wouldn’t it be nice?
No! It
In the faint light from below, he saw Pete kneeling at the head of the coffin. He made his way toward the other end. His hand came down on the fluorescent lamp he’d brought up the night Lane caught him here.
Lane.
Wanting Bonnie was a betrayal of her. Even worse, it was a betrayal of Jean.
He moved the dead lamp out of the way, crept over the floorboards to the foot of the coffin and put his hands on its corners.
Inside, the coffin looked black.
He couldn’t see Bonnie in there at all.
In a whisper Pete said, “Hey, wouldn’t it be something if she
“Yeah,” he murmured.
“She was one fabulous babe, wasn’t she?”
“You’re married to a fabulous babe.”
“Yeah, but
“She doesn’t look like that now,” Larry said, and he was glad that he couldn’t see her corpse in the black depths of the coffin.
“In the movies they come back good as new.”
“This isn’t the movies, Pete.”
“Too bad, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“What are you guys doing up there?” Barbara called from below.
“We’re on our way,” Pete called. Speaking softly, he said, “Ready?”
“Yeah.” Clutching the wooden corners, Larry began to crawl sideways, looking over his shoulder and scooting the foot of the coffin toward the lighted gap in the floor. He stepped down onto the ladder. Left hand gripping the top rung, he braced the end of the coffin with his right.
“Let’s hope she doesn’t fall out this time,” Pete said.
The panel tilted against Larry’s hand and the coffin eased forward.
“Got it?” Pete asked.
“Yeah.” Larry stepped slowly downward, holding the end high. It didn’t seem to weigh much.
Just as he wondered if it might be empty, Pete said, “Ugly mother.” She was in there, all right. The box probably felt light because Pete was supporting most of the weight.
When it started to tip, Larry released the ladder and grabbed it with both hands.
“Be careful,” Barbara said.
“I think I’m...”
“I’ve got you,” she told him, and clasped the sides of his legs just above the knees. She held him steady, her hands moving up his thighs as he stepped lower. Then they were on his hips. They pressed against his back, and she said, “Okay, one to go.”
He stepped onto the platform, and her hands left him. He backed away from the ladder.
“Watch it,” she warned as he approached the edge of the platform.
“Thanks.” He stepped down to the concrete and slowly lowered the coffin to keep it level while Pete descended the remaining rungs of the ladder.
The edge sank beneath his chin. He glimpsed the corpse’s brown, withered legs and quickly looked away. The box nudged his chest. He backed up until Pete was off the ladder, off the platform.