Endless Night Part 4

Anyhow, the top of the stairway was on the left side, away from the door.

She angled to the left, Andy's hand still pressing against her back.

The wood of the baseball bat felt slippery in her sweaty hands.

She stepped into the spill of light.

Don't even look, she told herself. You'll hear it if he spots you.

She kept her eyes straight ahead.

And spotted the dim shape of the newel post at the top of the stairway. Eight or ten feet away, no more.

We're gonna make it!

That's what she thought until Andy's fingertips dug into her back and he let out a moan that made her skin p.r.i.c.kle.

She snapped her head to the side.

She looked through the doorway.

Standing near the bed was the fat man who'd killed Evelyn. But he wasn't alone. There were others. Five, six? More?

They were silent in there. Not laughing or growling or discussing matters or kidding around. They were silent and busy. The only sounds were Billy Joel on the radio singing about the Vietcong, bedsprings squeaking, rough breathing and wet noises.

Jody couldn't recognize Evelyn or Mr. Clark or Mrs. Clark.

She supposed they must be in there, though, in the middle of things.

All she saw were men, bare skin, weapons and blood.

She looked in at it all for only a second, not even long enough to see what they were doing, but more than long enough to know that she didn't want to see.

At the same instant she began to turn her eyes away, one of the men swiveled around.

He'd probably heard Andy's moan.

He was hairless. He wore blood. He held a hatchet in one hand, a severed head in the other. He held the head upside down by the red mess in the stump of its neck. Its hair hung swaying. Jody couldn't tell whether the head belonged to Mrs. Clark or to Evelyn.

"Run!" Andy yelled.

Jody ran. The first stride rushed her past the far edge of light.

Behind her, Andy yelled.

She glanced over her shoulder in time to see him throw the machete. The moment it left his hand, he lunged sideways and raced after her.

Jody made it to the stairs and charged down them, sliding her right hand down the banister rail, holding the Louisville Slugger with her left, the bat b.u.mping her shoulder as she bounded toward the bottom.

"They're after us," Andy gasped.

Jody swerved to the left. Her shoulder skidded against the wall. "Go by! Get in front! Get the door!"

She slowed her descent. Andy was at her side for a second or two. Then he was ahead of her. She crossed over to the railing just in time to b.u.mp her hand on the newel post at the bottom.

Staggering, she whirled around.

Somebody was halfway down the stairs. A quick black shadow.

More than one? She couldn't tell.

"Get the door!" she yelled.

"I'm trying." She heard a rattle of chain. "Almost ..."

"Leave us alone!" Jody shrieked as the shape leaped at her from the stairway. It flew, airborne, arms stretching out for her. She thought she glimpsed a hatchet in its right hand. She swung.

Her bat smacked flesh.

The attacker grunted.

The blow knocked him crooked. Instead of coming down on Jody and slamming her to the floor, he hit the floor alone.

The front door swung open, letting in enough light from the porch to show the man sprawled on the floor. One quick step, and Jody was standing over him. She raised her bat high.

And heard footfalls thundering on the stairs.

"Jody!"

She gave up every thought of finis.h.i.+ng him off.

She lunged for the doorway. Andy waited. Her foot no sooner touched the welcome mat than the door crashed shut.

Side by side, they dashed across the porch. They didn't bother with the steps; they simply leaped and hit the walkway running. Jody s.h.i.+fted the bat to her right hand and grabbed its middle and pumped her arm just as if she weren't clutching it. Almost.

"Where to?" she gasped.

"I don't know!"

For now, it seemed almost good enough to run for the street.

The street in front of the house looked crowded. With parked cars. Five or six of them, all different from each other. And a dark van.

They just drove up and parked right in front of the house! Like a caravan, or something! Jesus!

What if they left someone behind to keep watch?

Jody quit worrying about that when she heard the house door swing open. She glanced over her shoulder. Men rushed out. She moaned and faced forward and tried to run faster.

"Head for a house!" she gasped at Andy.

Andy, at the sidewalk, cut hard to the left. Jody followed.

He's little, she thought, but he's sure fast.

At least we're outside.

If only a car would come along!

The bat weighted her down. It interfered with her arms. Without it, she could duck into the wind and pump for all she was worth and pick up some major speed. But she didn't dare get rid of it.

She remembered her first home run. She'd been so excited seeing the ball sail white and clean over the distant fence that she'd forgotten to drop the bat. She'd rounded the bases just like this, clutching it like a nutcase.

It had darn near killed Dad laughing.

But he'd been awfully proud, too.

Jesus, am I ever going to see him again?

She looked over her shoulder. The men were cutting across the gra.s.s.

This time, she really looked.

She wanted to see them well and know what she was up against.

Three of them.

The fat guy with the spear wasn't among them. Must've stayed behind in the house. Others must've stayed, too.

Three had come out to tie up the loose ends.

To kill us.

The guy in the lead was fast. He had nothing in his hands, but there was a belt or something around his waist, so he probably had a sheath knife. The guy behind him carried a sword-a saber that he waved overhead, flas.h.i.+ng moonlight. The third was having trouble keeping up. Maybe because the ax he carried was too heavy and awkward. Maybe because he was huge.

Jody couldn't tell what they were wearing. Skin, she supposed. Their own and other people's, like the man she'd killed. Skin, and lots of blood. Blood from Evelyn and Mr. and Mrs. Clark. Blood that looked black in the night.

What are these guys?

They seemed too awful to be real.

She wished they would at least yell. People always yell when they chase someone, don't they?

What's the matter with them, afraid they'll wake up the neighbors?

At the end of the line of parked cars, Andy leaped from the curb and ran into the street.

Jody leaped. She glanced at the rear of the last car. Always get the license plate, Dad had told her many times. If anything ever happens involving a motor vehicle, make sure you get the license plate. "But that'd be stealing," she had supposedly responded one time when she was about four years old.

"You don't take it, you get the number. Remember it, write it down."

She wanted to get the number now.

The license plate was easy to see in the pale glow of the streetlight. It looked black and s.h.i.+ny. Paint? Tape?

She didn't pause to investigate, but veered away from the rear of the car and stayed on Andy's tail. He was das.h.i.+ng at an angle toward the other side of the street, seemed to be heading for a ma.s.sive, two-story brick house.

Its shrubbery was bright with spotlights. The walkway to its front door was bordered by footlights. The porch light was on. The area of pavement in front of the three-car garage looked like a tennis court illuminated for night games.

Lights everywhere except in the windows of the house.

All of them looked dark.

Who's gonna be up at this hour?

She wondered why Andy had picked this house. The one next door to his own place had to be closer. Maybe he knows these people, or ...

She took a quick look back.

And glimpsed a For Sale sign on the lawn of the house beside the Clark home.

So maybe this was the nearest house with people in it.

It'll do a lot of good, she thought, if they're asleep.

Twisting farther around, she saw the leader of the bunch leap off the curb. The other two seemed to have fallen behind him a little, but not much.

Are they gaining on us? she wondered.

Doesn't matter. They're too close.

"Help!" she shouted as she ran. "Help! Police!"

Andy took up the cry.

Jody started shouting, "Fire!"

Andy called out "Dr. Youngman!" as he left the street in his wake and sprinted up the lawn. "Dr. Youngman! Help! Please! Dr. Youngman!"

Jody joined in.

The gra.s.s was cool and very wet. Dr. Youngman must've watered his lawn tonight.

"Dr. Youngman!" Andy yelled. "It's Andy! Andy Clark! Help! Open up! Help!"

Jody scanned the house front, watching for a window to fill with light.

All the windows stayed dark.