work. You have to go get help. You agld learned anhing about you, I knowyou're principle. Go fix yore self something to' eat I'll fire."

A cold tush of air destroyed her warmth as he slid out from beneath thequilt. Logic survived the ondaught of emolion. lie was right. She couldneither pzevent his transformation into Hank Barthokmew, if Killer Smile139 evitable. They were trapped somewhere in the nether-world betweenthe power of knowledge and the bliss of ignorance.

Ellen got out of bed, pulled on a robe and shuffled toward the kitchenarea while Jack stood by-the fireplace. She stirred the coals in theoven, hoping to warm her end of the room, and tried to make her sluggishbrain choose a breakfast menu. Sweet memories captured her thoughts, andas her mind sought refuge in their nocturnal adventures, the cast-ironskillet slipped out of her hand. It struck the stove with anearsplitting clang.

"Wha--owl"

At the sound of Jack's anguished voice, Ellen turned and watched himfall to his knees. He was holding his head between both hands, mutteringhis pain in four-letter words. She realized he must have stood suddenlyand hit his head on the solid wood mantel of the fireplace.

Her heart pounded, but her body refused to move. There was something inhis tone of voice, in his bellow of pain, that frightened her. She hadto swallow a sudden surge of panic before she could speak.

"Are y-you okay?" There was no answer.

"Jack?"

"No, damn it! I'm not." Anger filled his rough voice. A fst of fearpressed down on her lungs, and she st rug-Bled to draw a full breath.

She watched him stumble to the bed, still holding his head.

He rocked back and forth.

"Damn, damn, damn ..." His voice grew louder with each repetition.

She stood still, oblivious to the cold which had surrendered to the openflame of terror.

"Ellen." The single word was strained, spoken between clenched teeth.

Was it his voice? Hank's?

"Y-yes?"

140 A Killer Smile He spoke as if he was wedging each word between wavesof pain.

"How long will it take you to get to the station?" Her mind went blank.

"How long?" he raged.

She jumped at the harshness o pounds his tone.

much snow. two hours, maybe a little more."

"Get ready." He stood, then sagged against the head board.

"Take water, food, all the stuff you'll need."

"But ..."

"Get it now!" He lurched toward the bathroom. cheting off furniture and

walls. The fear that her to the floor now screamed for her to move.

"Jack! Wait!"

Pushing away her attempts to restrain him, he through her small

collection of medicines. something stronger here. Something." He around,

grabbing her by the shoulders. In one hideous moment her oldest solned to life. Hank was exacting theultimate he'd taken her heart and now he was going to But to hergreatest surprise, Jack released slumped toward the mirror, resting hishead on the glass. His voice dropped you have some sort of medicinethat'll knock me "Knock you ... I don't understand, Jack.

doing this?"

His face darken and he dropped to the bed.

hit my head, it--it loosened all sorts of memories. what I saw." He

closed his eyes and " Ellen, you've got to get out of here. Now!"

She stood in front of him, reaching out to touch "Jack, I'm not scared,"

she lied.

A Killer Smile 141 He tipped an anguished face down to meet hers.

"I am, though. I'm scared to death." He released a shuddering sigh.

"Get your stuff.

Gloves, hat. Just get ready."

Ellen responded-to the steel-edged urgency in his voice. She athered her

emergency pack, which contained the essentials for a winter hike, then

laid out the rest of her gear.

"Jack shuffled toward the bed. His quiet words cut through her concentration.

"Find me some rope."

"What?"

"Rope. Get me some rope. If you don't have a!y medic' me to keep me

sedated, then you're going to have to tie me up."

A flash of pain traced a path down the muscles of her back.

"No, Jack. Don't make me do that." ' He bent down, cradling his head

between his palms. "You have to. I know it's all going to come flooding back--any minute now. And I don't want Hank following you on the path.

Just get the" -- he swallowed an expletive"--rope!"

She fumbled with the clasp on a footlocker where she kept her tools and repair supplies. When the lid swung open, she immediately saw the neat cod.

Her stomach soured when her mind stumbled over the proper description for it--a "hank" of rope.

"Bring a knife over here, too."

When she turned around, he was tugging on the iron rail of the foot board, testing its strength. Taking the rope from her, he cut it into two long pieces and handed back the knife.

"Make sure you put this where I can't reach it."

By the time she numbly stuck the knife back in the and returned, he had

knotted the rope around his A Killer Smile ankles, lashing them to the rail.

He held the second length out to her.

"N-no ..." she whispered.

"I can't."

"You have to," He pushed the rope into her palm.

"You have to, Ellen."

She saw a different emotion trying to break through his forced stoicism.

She watched the battle rage in his eyes. "Please don't ask me to do it, Jack."

He crossed his wrists and stretched them out in front of him.

"I told you--my name isn't Jack." His voice broke.

She looped the rope around his wrists, following his terse comma lids to pull and knot.

"No, tighter."

She winced as the strands dug into his flesh.

"Now feed the rope through the' headboard around the top rail--through

two.

Wrap it around twice and tie it. No, with two knots." He ted his bonds.

"Good."

When their gazes met, Jack turned his head.

"Go."

"Jack ..."

"Hurry. If I change ..." He swallowed.

"I might forget how I feel about you."