Lacey rushed to Dukane's side. Looking out the window, she saw the black Rolls Royce stopped in front of the house-perhaps thirty feet away. The doors on its far side stood open, but the body of the car hid what ever was being done.

"I warn you," said the amplified voice. Lacey spotted its source: a man on a distant rise of land, speaking into a megaphone. "Give us Hoffman, or you will all be annihilated. There is no escape for you unless you do as we ask. You have seen what we do to our enemies. Each of you will meet a similar end, if you continue to ignore our request." The megaphone was lowered.

Lacey heard the bathroom door open. Scott rushed across the floor and knelt at the other window.

From behind the car came a heavy clank. A hammer striking metal? The pounding continued with a slow, even rhythm.

"What're they doing?"

Scott frowned at Lacey, and she saw anguish in his eyes. He backhanded speckles of sweat off his upper lip. "Maybe you shouldn't watch."

"You think it's Nancy?"

"Yeah."

Dukane suddenly rushed from the room.

The pounding stopped for a few seconds, then started again. Lacey scurried over to Scott's window.

"Sounds like they're driving in stakes," he said.

"Oh G.o.d." Lacey sank down. Turning, she sat beneath the window with her back against the wall. She brought up her legs, hugged them to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, pressed her mouth to one knee.

The slow pounding kept on.

Dukane returned to the room, crouching low, a wine bottle in hand.

"n.o.body's moving in," he said, and squatted near the other front window. "Can you tell what they're doing?"

"Driving in stakes, I think."

"s.h.i.t," he muttered. He took a handkerchief from his pocket, tore it in half, and twisted one of the pieces into a strip. He stuffed it into the bottle's mouth, and drew it out. The pungent fumes of gasoline stung Lacey's nostrils.

He reversed the rag and stuffed it into the bottle again. Three inches hung out like a wick.

The pounding outside continued.

"Anybody got a match?"

Lacey hurled herself forward, scurried to the coffee table, and grabbed a lighter. She raced back to Dukane.

"When I open the door, light the rag."

Lacey nodded, suddenly excited, eager to be striking back.

Dukane jerked the door open.

Lacey lighted the wick. As fire bloomed from the dripping rag, Dukane pitched the bottle. He slammed the door shut and dived into Lacey, throwing her to the floor as bullets burst through the wood above them. Splinters rained down.

Dukane rolled off, and scrambled to his window. Lacey saw Scott take aim. She rushed to his side as the flaming car lunged forward, its far doors still open, leaving two men behind. One raced after it, yelling, his open Hawaiian shirt fluttering behind him like a cape. He turned a somersault as Scott's bullet smacked the back of his head. The other man, on his knees with a hammer when the car left him unprotected, sprang to his feet. He ran toward the house, waving the hammer overhead like the tomahawk of a demented Apache.

"Let him come!" Dukane yelled. "We can use him."

His naked body, as bony as a starved man, was streaked with blood. Not his own, Lacey a.s.sumed. What had he been doing? She was afraid to look away from him. He ran toward the window, shrieking, and looked about to dive through when a dozen bullets. .h.i.t him from behind.

Scott threw Lacey back.

The man's head drove into the window as if trying to squeeze itself between two of the flat, open slats of gla.s.s. They burst, tearing his scalp, ripping the sides of his face and neck. His chin came to rest on the sill. Blood slid down the inside of the wall.

Lacey scooted backward, unable to look away from the ghastly man's head. "Get...get him out of here!" she stammered. "Get him OUT!"

"Oh good Christ," Dukane said. He was staring out his window. "My G.o.d, those...!" Leaping away from the window, he took quick strides toward the dead man's protruding head.

"What did they...?"

"b.a.s.t.a.r.ds!" Dukane swung up his leg in a vicious kick, catching the man in the face. The head bounded upward. Lacey glimpsed its torn, mashed face. The eyes seemed to glare at her with hatred for an instant as the head smashed through three more louvers. Then it dropped backward out of sight.

Scott ran to the window. He knelt beside it and looked out. "Oh no," he muttered. He turned to Dukane, his face ashen. "What'll we do?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"We can't get to her. They'd nail us before we got a yard."

"We can't just leave her like that!"

"Want to put her out of misery?"

"No! My G.o.d, Matt! I don't think she's even hurt."

"Hard to tell."

"I think she's all right. But my G.o.d, we can't just...Stop!" he told Lacey, raising his hand like a traffic cop as she crawled forward. "You don't want to see it."

"What? What did they do to her? You said she's all right."

"They've got her staked down. With Jan."

"Jan?"

"What's left of her," Dukane muttered. "They're tied facetoface."

CHAPTER THIRTY.

I'm in the camper, right? I'm not gonna take it to Oasis, though. Suppose somebody digs up the old farts? I don't want their RV popping up where I'm at. So I ditch it at the Phoenix airport, along with my clothes and make up, and don't take nothing with me but my four beans. I'd lost two, by then. But the one I'd eaten was still doing its job. Still is. That's close to two months, right?

Okay, I take a Greyhound to Oasis. Leave the driving to them. The thing was nearly empty, so I didn't have no trouble.

First thing I do when I get there, I look up my old pal Lacey in the phone book. Only her name ain't in it. I figure she's either unlisted, or she's got herself married, or she's moved on. I can't exactly stop someone on the street and ask, right? If she's in Oasis, though, I'm gonna find her.

So what I do, I head for the old lady's market. To o much going on in the Safeway, people gonna be tripping over me. The market's quiet, I know my way around. h.e.l.l, I d.a.m.n near lived in that dump when I was a kid. After school, weekends. Beat the s.h.i.t out of me if I gave'em any lip about it.

Well, this is my chance to pay the old lady back. Spook her up, and do her. But first I'm gonna lay low. If Lacey's still in town, she's gonna pop up in the market sooner or later. Everybody does. Even the Safeway regulars, they show up for a frozen pizza or aspirin or some kind of odds and ends. So I'll just hang out and wait.

Only trouble is, the old bat's got ears like a hawk. I don't even make it through the first day, and she hears me moving around. It's night, about an hour before closing time, when suddenly she perks up and starts acting scared and looking all over for me.

Well, I like seeing her scared. Gives me a kick, throwing a fright into folks, but she's special. I'm thinking of all the times she used to slam me around, whip me with the ironing cord. Her and the old man both. Too bad he kicked off before I got a chance at him, the old t.u.r.d. Anyway, she's plenty scared'cause of the noises, so I throw another one into her by opening up the cash register. That does it. She closes and high tails it.

I'm p.i.s.sed, right? There goes my big plan for laying low and waiting for Lacey to show up. So I'm eating a steak and soaking up a bottle of red to make myself feel better when some a.s.shole starts pounding on the door. I toss a f.u.c.kin' meat cleaver at him. Too bad I missed.

So what happens next? A whole troop comes piling into the store. The old lady, the jerk that was at the door, some other gal, and guess who? My old pal, Lacey. Things are looking up, right? Only they take one look at the cleaver stuck in the door, and run off like the joint's haunted.

I go after'em. By the time I get to the door, though, they're packed in this car and taking off.

Well, at least I know Lacey's still in town.

A cop shows up, a little later. I just stand around and watch him search. When he takes off, I sack out in the storeroom.

That was Friday night. I figured the old cow'd be back in the morning, but she didn't open up all weekend. Spooked her good, I guess. Anyway, she comes in Monday morning and sees the mess I'd made. She always did hate messes. She wasn't so scared, this time. Just p.i.s.sed off. People came in, she'd tell'em it was vandals, probably kids. If they come back, she says, she's gonna fix their wagon.

So that night, some pal of hers shows up with a f.u.c.kin' watchdog. I get out of there till they leave,'cause the dog's gonna go for me, you know. Well, once they're gone I sneak in again to take care of the mutt. It d.a.m.n near got me, but I opened up its head with the meat cleaver and ripped the thing apart. Then I skinned it. Even tried some. I figure, s.h.i.t, it tried to take a bite out of me. Turnabout's fair play. Didn't taste bad.

I figure all h.e.l.l's gonna break loose when they find what's left of the dog, so I get out of there before morning.

Head over to the high school. Forgot school's out for the summer, till I got there. But it turns out they've got summer school going, and most of it's athletic stuff. So I'm okay, after all.

Guess where I go? Where else, the girls' shower room. I've got a thing about shower rooms, huh? When I was a kid, I used to always dream about getting into this one, grabbing a peek at all those hons, maybe copping a feel here and there. Used to wish I could turn invisible, and just spend all day with'em. Well, I knew that was impossible. Impossible, right? So I thought I'd dress up like a girl and sneak in that way. Figured I'd get caught, though. Well, now I'm invisible and I make my dream come true.

These hons are a lot younger than the ones at the university. Some are still flat, some got these tiny little pointed t.i.ts that look like they're half nipple, and some got b.o.o.bs out to here. Some haven't even got a bush, yet.

I have a great time watching, sometimes grabbing a little feel. Tell you how you do it. I worked out a system at the university. You go for where their hands are. They're rubbing soap on their p.u.s.s.y, you can get in a feel without them noticing. See what I mean?

Anyway, around noon, things slow down in the shower department. Only a few in there, rinsing off after their volleyball and stuff. One's this blonde with nifty little pointed t.i.ts. I follow her home. The house is empty, which works out nicely. I don't want her knowing my secret, so I bop her on the head. Then I blindfold and gag her. Wait till she comes around before I start the fun and games.

You'll be happy to know I didn't kill her. No point. Just draw attention to myself, right? The way I did it, she maybe kept it to herself. You live in a little town like Oasis, you don't want it getting around you've been raped. People figure you brought it on yourself, you'll never live it down. So I just left her, and headed on back to the market.

Guess who's there. Not just my old lady, but the a.s.shole that owned the dog. He's got himself a shotgun. And he doesn't go away. He's gonna blow the head off the b.a.s.t.a.r.d that put the dark on his pooch. So he says.

The store's full of people. They're all buying one or two things, just for an excuse to visit the scene of the crime. Must be eight o'clock before the joint clears out.

That's when I go to it. Start spooking'em. The a.s.shole almost gets me with his shotgun, though. Blows apart a c.o.ke display. Then I take his shotgun away and knock him on the head. I don't have time to finish the job,'cause the old lady's screaming her face off and running for the door.

I catch up to her, throw her down, and tell her who I am. It's Sammy, her darling son, come back to give her a taste of what she'd given him.

She's crying and pleading with me, saying she's sorry. Man, is she sorry. Especially when I start snapping her fingers. I have to gag her to stop the screams. Then I drag her back to the meat counter.

She and the old t.u.r.d taught me how to be a butcher, how to use the bone saw and cleaver. Made me sick. All that blood. But then I got to like it, and they'd catch me eating the raw meat and they'd say I was stealing and knock me around. Well, they got their way. Made me into a butcher.

So here goes the old bag, up on the chopping block. I go at her real slow, wanting to keep her alive for a while so she can see what a good butcher she turned out. I even use tourniquets on her stumps to keep the bleeding down so she'll last a while longer.

Hope she enjoyed it.

Packaged her up real nice in cellophane, and laid her out with the rest of the beef. Then I went over to the guy. He's still out cold. I start with his arm. Hack it right off. And then I hear the front door open.

If it ain't my old pal, Lacey! This, I know, is gonna be a banner day. I let her snoop around some, then I go for her. Knock her out, strip her down, and do what I'd been wanting to do since I was a high school kid. Ah, she was fine, just fine. You oughta know, right? You haven't had a piece yet, you're missing a bet.

I don't kill her. No way. I've got big plans for her. So I leave. Only one car in the lot, that and a pickup truck. I knew the pickup belonged to the dog man, so the car has to be Lacey's. I get in, and lay down on the back floor.

It's a long wait. The cops come. I don't know, it's maybe an hour before she finally comes out. She checks the car real careful, almost like she knows I'm there. Doesn't see me, though. Course not. So she starts up the car and heads for home.

She lights up this cigarette, and I cough. G.o.d knows what she must've thought. Scared her plenty, though. Thinks I'm in the trunk, I guess. When she stops, she jumps on the trunk like maybe it isn't locked. Has her face pressed up against the back window and here I am, looking right at her with her cheek mashed in.

Then she runs off, goes in her house, and I get out of the car. I'm standing there, and out she comes with a revolver. s.h.i.t, this gal's got b.a.l.l.s. She goes right to the trunk and opens it, planning to blast me to h.e.l.l. Course, I'm not there. I'm over by her front door, now, waiting for her to come back and open it.

She gets it unlocked, and we're about to go in when this jock shows up. He's gonna play big hero and search around. So they go off together, and she doesn't bother to lock the door up, so I help myself and go inside.

Pretty soon, they come in. The guy looks all over the place. He wants to stay, but Lacey won't bite, so he runs off and she's finally alone.

Almost alone, right?

Gets herself some wine, and makes this call. That's how I find out she works for the paper. Cute call. Doesn't tell what I did to her. That's gonna be her secret. Just between her and me. Like I say, you can't let a thing like that get around, not in a town like Oasis.

So after the call, lo and behold, she locks herself in the john and starts to run the bath. Never even suspects I'm right in there with her. I have myself a great time watching her strip, check herself out in the mirror, lay down in the tub, soap herself up, sip her wine. I just stand there enjoying it for a while. I figure, she's mine now. I own her. I can do what I want with her, as much as I want.

Well, I finally decide it's time to spook her, start showing her who's running the show. So I turn off the light. I hear her splashing. Then she's out of the tub and pointing this pistol at her door as if I'm gonna come bashing through it. I just stand behind her and enjoy it. She's scared s.h.i.tless. I can hear her gasping, making little whiny sounds. I leave her alone till she starts to get dressed, then I nail her. This time's better than before. It's better when they're conscious, squirming and crying. Adds a little flavor to the proceedings, you know?

By the time I'm done, I'm beat. Busy day, right? So it's time to hit the sack. I tie her to the bed and blindfold her. Don't want her walking off-or limping, as the case may be. And I don't want her learning my little secret till I'm ready to spring it on her. I want to see her reaction.

Next morning, after some a.s.shole comes to the door, I have another go at her. She's better than ever, squirming and fighting. That should've given me a clue: the b.i.t.c.h has a lot more guts than I counted on. But I figure, once she sees I'm invisible, she's gonna know she can't win. She'll fall in line.

I let her know my plan. She's gonna be like Robin in Iowa, gonna take care of me and keep her mouth shut, and go on about her business just like nothing'd happened. I warn her what'll happen if she screws up. Then I go ahead and untie her and take off the blindfold.

First thing she does, when she sees she can't see me, is give me a kick in the nuts. Then she runs. But she's smart, gotta give her that. She doesn't try to run away, knows she can't get away from someone she can't see, so instead she goes in the kitchen thinking she'll finish me off. Throws flour on me so she can see where I am, and sticks a knife in my back.

That would've taken care of most guys, just like all the f.u.c.kin' bullets you pumped in Tome. But I'm not most guys, right? I've drunk at the river, all that s.h.i.t. Got magic powers. So she hurts me and gets away, probably thinks she's killed me.