The Language Of Cannibals

ice and ready to be trotted out for public show-and-tell, nobody on the right is going to touch a hair on Lippitt's head.'

'A hair on, Lippitt's head?'

'I was speaking figuratively, of course.'

'That's good.'

The door opened, and Mary stepped in. She still held the slip of paper Garth had given her in a hand that trembled noticeably. Her face was ashen again, but her voice was steady. 'The phones don't work,' she said, looking back and forth between Garth and me. 'I can't get a dial tone on any of them.'

'We waited too long,' I said as I watched Garth take the Colt from his jacket pocket and remove the safety catch. 'Somebody's cut the goddamn phone lines. They found out I was gone, saw that your car was still in the parking lot, and guessed where we'd go. Or maybe Mary's car was spotted after all.'

Garth nodded tersely, then turned to Mary, who was staring at the gun in his hand. 'Mary, you must do exactly as I say, and you must do it quickly. I don't know how much time we have. Right now there are men, maybe your death squad, watching this house, waiting for Mongo, you, and me to show ourselves. When we don't, they're likely to get impatient and come in after us. You have to get everyone else out of here; tell them to go jogging or take a walk into town, or whatever, but get them out.'

Mary, who was still staring wide-eyed at the Colt in Garth's right hand, shook her head absently. 'What reason am I supposed to give them, Garth?'

'I don't know; anything. Just get them out. I don't think the men will hassle the others; they want us.'

'I'll send someone for the police.'

Garth shook his head impatiently. 'I doubt you'll find any cops in this part of town right now, but even if you did, it wouldn't do any good. Both Mongo and I, and maybe you, would be right back in the situation we just got Mongo out of.'

Mary started to leave, and I grabbed her arm. 'Mary, I know you don't have guns in the house, but do you have anything I might be able to use to defend myself? A knife, maybe? The people who are after us will kill us in cold blood if they get the chance.'

'I believe you,' she replied in a hoarse voice. 'I'll see what I can find.'

'Go,' Garth said, and gently pushed her out of the room.

Garth turned off the light, left the door open a crack, and listened. I moved closer, listened with him. I said, 'Unless they actually saw us in the car, they can't be certain we're here. They're just guessing.'

'Unless they saw us in the car.' 'Right.'

We waited by the door, listening. The air in the room suddenly felt musty and heavy in my lungs. From below I thought I heard a knock, and then the sound of muffled voices, but I couldn't be sure. Then there was silence. Footsteps, another knock, more voices.

And then gunfire-a short burst of automatic weapons fire from the ground or second floor. Shouts. Screams.

'Shit!' I said, and reached for the doorknob.

'Wait,' Garth said, pushing me back.

'Jesus Christ, Garth, they were already in the house. They must have seen or heard Mary trying to move the others out and decided they'd waited long enough. We can't just let them kill those people down there.'

Garth shook his head. 'Wait. I don't think they're going to gun down a bunch of pacifists. That shooting was just to get their attention-and ours. They still may not be certain we're here; Mary may be able to bluff them.'

Suddenly there was another burst of gunfire and then the sound of running feet. There were more shouts, but from where we were it was impossible to tell what was happening or being said.

'Christ, Garth, can we take that chance?!'

Garth held up the Colt. 'Walking down there is the same as committing suicide. They have at least one automatic weapon, and this thing isn't going to be much use against it.'

I couldn't argue with that.

We waited some more. There was no further gunfire, but muffled shouts continued to drift up from below. Then there was silence, which lasted for three or four minutes. Both Garth and I strained to hear some sound; what we finally heard was what sounded like heavy, booted footsteps on the main staircase, slowly ascending. The footsteps came closer, finally stopped at the top of the stairs on our floor, perhaps twenty feet to our right.

'We know the two of you are in here someplace!' a man shouted. I'd half expected the gunman coming up the stairs to be Gregory Trex, but this was not a voice I recognized. 'We've got everybody downstairs in the big room! If you two aren't down there in five minutes, those people are going to start to die! We'll shoot the folksinger first!'

Somewhere below a woman screamed, the agonized sound penetrating clearly, harrowingly, up through the hardwood floors and thick plaster ceilings of the old mansion. I thought it might have been Mary, but I wasn't sure. I swallowed hard, glanced at the luminous dial of my wristwatch.

'They may plan to kill everybody anyway,' I said in a voice that had gone hoarse. 'Ten to one they're local boys, and masks aren't going to keep them from being recognized.'

'Uh-huh,' Garth said. From the light seeping in from the hallway, I could see that he was staring at the gun in his hand.

'If we go down there, we'll be walking right into an ambush. They certainly mean to kill us, and they probably won't waste any time doing it.'

'Uh-huh.'

'But we don't have much choice, do we?'

'Nope,' Garth said as he turned me around and pulled up my shirt. He stuck the gun into the waistband of my jeans, pulled my shirt back down over it. 'This Colt isn't going to do us much good in a straight shoot-out, but on the other hand, they don't know we have a gun at all. We're just going to have to rely on the Fredericksons' natural talents for stealth and cunning to get us through this. If we can get close enough to them, catch them off guard before they cut us down, I just might be able to relieve them of duty. You do the talking, I'll do the shooting. Bail out when you feel me grab the gun.'

'That's the stupidest plan you've ever had, brother. What makes you think they're going to let either of us do any talking? They're probably going to cut us in half the moment we step into the ballroom downstairs, which is where they must be.'

'You'll just have to talk very fast. Say something instantly hypnotic.'

'Instantly hypnotic. I see.' I removed the gun from my waistband, stepped around behind Garth, and stuck it into his.

'What the hell do you think you're doing?'

'It makes more sense for me to grab the gun off you; for one thing, I won't have to bend over to get at it. Don't you forget to drop to the floor. If you entertain any thoughts of trying to shield me after I grab the gun, forget them. You'll only interfere with my line of fire.'

Garth reached back for the gun, but I grabbed his wrist.

'Mongo, you can't even see, for Christ's sake!'

'What's the matter? You afraid I won't remember to divide by two before I shoot?'

'Can you walk?'

'After all the other scrapes we've gotten into and survived, I find the prospect of being gunned down by a bunch of local shitheads in a place owned by a group of pacifists not only terribly ironic but tremendously stimulating to my nervous system. I can walk, and I'll shoot straight if I get the chance.'

Garth sucked in a deep breath, slowly let it out. 'Luck,' he said softly.

'Luck,' I said, then walked with my brother out of the room and into the corridor, which was now dimly awash with the light of dawn.

We'd reached the third-floor landing when a woman-this time definitely identifiable as Mary-screamed again.

'We're coming! Garth shouted, and we quickened our pace descending the stairs.

I half expected a gunman to suddenly appear in the stairwell below us and start shooting, but we made it to the ground floor. With Garth a half step ahead of me and slightly to my right, we walked quickly across the grand