Endless Night Part 62

They'd found evidence of his presence here in the living room, in the kitchen, in the bathroom, in Dad's bedroom, in Jody's, even in the garage.

Face it, she thought, he was probably everywhere.

He hadn't disturbed the guest room, so far as they'd been able to tell. Of course, that proved nothing. It only meant he hadn't rearranged or taken anything, or made a mess.

Too bad Andy's in there.

Anyway, who's to say the guest room's bed is any better than mine? Who knows where the guy ... ?

The trundle bed!

Yes!

Jody headed for the guest room, delighted by her success in discovering the perfect place to sleep. On rollers underneath the main bed and hidden by a draping quilt, the trundle was completely out of sight.

Not a chance in h.e.l.l the dirty b.a.s.t.a.r.d laid a finger on it.

Yes!

She was glad to hear her father snoring as she halted near his open door.

Might be a trifle difficult to explain why I'm sneaking to Andy's room in the dead of night.

Turning away from his door, she looked into the bathroom and considered whether she needed to pee. Not badly.

Better take care of it, she told herself.

So she slipped inside and eased the door shut. With the Barney Rubble nightlight glowing beside the sink, she didn't need to turn on the overhead lights. She set her sheet and pillow on the counter, raised her nights.h.i.+rt, and sat down on the toilet.

Good thing I made a pit stop, she decided after a while.

Must be that Pepsi.

When it came time to flush, she almost didn't. The sound might wake up Dad. She could just lower the lid ...

But she suddenly realized that the sound of a flus.h.i.+ng toilet was exactly what she needed.

If Dad hears that, he'll know why I'm up roaming around.

Yo ho ho!

He'll think I'm on the way back to my room, and never suspect the awful truth!

Grinning, Jody flushed the toilet. Then she gathered up her pillow and sheet. She strode boldly out of the bathroom and up the hallway toward her bedroom.

When she stopped at her bedroom, she realized that she wasn't sure whether or not her father had been snoring as she'd left the john.

Doesn't really matter, she told herself.

She took one step into her bedroom, found the doork.n.o.b, and pulled the door toward her.

She didn't shut it all the way; that might arouse suspicion. But she didn't want to leave it standing wide open, either. Not with Sharon coming over later. Sharon or Dad might happen by and notice that her bed was empty.

Leaving the door slightly ajar, she headed for the guest room. She walked slowly, rolling her feet from heel to toe even though that made it worse on places that were still sore from Friday night.

Every few steps, she stopped and listened.

The house was very quiet.

Jody's breathing and the thudding of her heart were the loudest sounds around.

This end of the hallway seemed awfully dark.

Jody had seldom walked it in the middle of the night, but she couldn't recall it being this dark before.

The guest room door must be shut, she thought.

Usually, it was left open and light from the room's windows stretched out into the hallway. With that door shut, and certainly no light coming in from the door to the garage, Jody could see nothing at all in front of her.

She shut her eyes.

It made no difference in what she saw.

Wonderful, she thought, and opened them again.

Blackness.

She halted. She sidestepped to the right until her arm b.u.mped softly against the wall.

I can't have very far to go, she told herself. Let's not freak out over a little darkness.

This is more than a little.

No big deal, she told herself. Just turn around, and you'll be able to see again.

She turned around.

And there was light. Dim light, but vastly better than nothing. And Barney Rubble in the bathroom seemed to give off a very healthy glow, considering that it had only one tiny little bulb and it was plugged in so far from ...

... from the door ...

... which was swinging shut, squeezing out the glow from Barney ...

... squeezing it down to a slice ...

... killing it.

"Oh, Jesus," Jody whispered.

She backed away, arm rubbing the wall until she b.u.mped a jutting edge of wood.

The door frame.

One more step, and the guest room door was beside her. She s.h.i.+fted the sheet and pillow to her right arm. With her left hand, she gripped the doork.n.o.b.

She didn't turn it, though.

She stood there, struggling to breathe, staring down the hallway.

It wasn't my imagination, she told herself. The door did shut.

Maybe Dad shut it. Maybe he's in there, right now.

That has to be it.

He woke up. I probably woke him up when I flushed the toilet. And he figured since he was awake anyway he might as well go ahead and take a leak.

That's gotta be it.

Far down the hall, a dim yellow slice of light appeared and slowly thickened.

Jody sucked a quick breath.

She twisted the doork.n.o.b, shoved her shoulder against the door, and lurched into the guest room. She shut the door fast, but took care not to let it b.u.mp. Leaning back against it, she panted for air.

That had to be Dad in the john, she told herself.

But what if it wasn't?

Peering into the darkness, she tried to see Andy. The curtains, usually left open, were shut. Only enough light filtered in to let her see vague, blurred shapes. She could barely make out the bed underneath the window. She couldn't actually see Andy in it. Holding her own breath for a few moments, she heard his breathing.

What if this isn't Andy?

What if Andy's dead and this is that dirty-Simon-pretending to be asleep?

The b.a.s.t.a.r.d can't be here and also down by the john, she told herself. Especially figuring he's DEAD. This has to be Andy.

Find out. Turn on the lights.

But if she turned on the lights, a bright strip at the bottom of the door would show in the hallway.

Simon'll see it.

A coldness seemed to clamp Jody's insides.

This is suddenly an awful lot like Friday night, she thought. And Friday night when I came out of the room with Andy, everyone was dead.

Dad's down there right across the hall from the john.

She muttered, "Not this time."

She tossed her pillow and sheet to the floor, whirled around, jerked open the door and rushed into the hallway. Nothing. Darkness. Everything looked normal. The light from Barney Rubble was a distant glow as dim as mist. No light came from her father's room.

She swept down the hall, moving as quietly as possible but moving fast. So fast that she could feel a breeze against her bare skin, feel the nights.h.i.+rt drift against her thighs and belly.

So far, so good, she thought.

She rushed into her own bedroom and hit the light switch. As brightness stung her eyes, she half expected to see a hairless, half-naked madman leap at her with a hunting knife.

It didn't happen.

She jerked open the drawer of her nightstand and s.n.a.t.c.hed out her Smith & Wesson.

On her way to the door, she thumbed the safety off.

She rushed down the hall to her father's room. Halting just outside his door, she listened.

And heard the slow growl of his snoring.

Thank G.o.d!

She crept through the doorway, slipped sideways, and nudged the switch with her elbow.

n.o.body stood over Dad's bed, poised to strike him dead.

n.o.body appeared to be in the room, at all, except Jody and her father.

He lay sprawled on his back, hands folded under his head, wearing his good blue pajamas. He had no sheet on top of him. The s.h.i.+rt of his pajamas was unb.u.t.toned and hung open.

One of his snores turned into a moan.

Jody killed the light and slipped out of the room.

She crossed the hall and was about to check the bathroom when its door began to swing shut.

The door moved very slowly, blocking out the glow from Barney Rubble.

Oh my G.o.d!

She felt as if her heart had been dropped from a roof.

But she didn't let that stop her.

She raised her trembling left hand. The door b.u.mped softly against it.

With her right hand, she aimed at the center of the door.

She had fired at enough boards, out shooting with her dad, to know that her .22 would punch straight through such a door.