'Can it!' Abilene whispered. 'Okay? Just cut it out.'

Finley tilted one corner of her mouth and rolled her eyes upward.

Vivian seemed to be in her own mind, ignoring the exchange, gazing across the table with narrowed eyes. Her lips were stretched back, baring her teeth.

Cora looked intense. As if she were scrutinizing Batty, wary but fascinated.

Abilene flinched as Batty reached around from behind and slapped the huge knife on the table in front of her.

'Part y'flesh and give.'

Abilene twisted her head sideways and stared up at the wizened, whiskered face.

'What?'

'In the vessel.'

'I don't get it.'

Finley grinned. 'I think you're supposed to cut yourself and bleed in the bowl. That right, Batty?'

'All ya.'

'Whoa, boy. I knew this'd get queer.'

'It's the way.'

'Might be your way. That's why they call you Batty.'

'Shut up!' Cora snapped.

Finley flinched as if stunned by the loud rebuke. Face red, voice soft, she said, 'You don't believe in this stuff, do you?'

'It's worth a try.'

'This androgynous loony tune wants us to cut ourselves.'

'Stop it, Fin,' Vivian said gendy. 'I think we should do what Batty asks. If it helps us find Helen, that's all that really matters.'

'I want to find her as much as anyone. But going along with this crazy...'

Abilene snatched up the knife and slashed the edge of her left hand.

Finley gasped, 'Shit!'

Abilene stretched out her arm in time for the blood to spill into the bowl. The wound stung, but didn't hurt as much as she'd expected. She watched the bright streamer of blood fall, heard quiet, plopping splashes.

A hand squeezed her shoulder. Batty's hand.

'Yer a shiny soul.'

She passed the knife to Finley, who sat to her right.

'I'm sure,' Finley muttered. She glanced at the others. She scowled at Abilene's bleeding hand. Muttering, 'We'll probably end up with gangrene and lose our arms,' she sliced herself. She reached out, and her hand joined Abilene's above the bowl.

She passed the knife to Cora. Without a moment's hesitation, Cora gashed her hand and put it over the bowl. She gave the knife to Vivian.

Vivian inspected her left arm as if searching for the best place to cut it. Then she settled, like the others, for the edge of her hand. As she slid the blade against it, her lips pursed and she murmured, 'Ooooo.'

There was silence as they all sat around the table, their left arms outstretched, their blood splashing into the bowl.

Finley broke the silence.

'Can't wait to see what comes next.'

'Nuff,' Batty said.

They pulled in their arms.

'I don't suppose you provide bandages,' Finley said.

Batty didn't answer.

Abilene pressed her cut against her skirt. Blood seeped through the denim, hot against her thigh. Finley grabbed a handful of shirttail and clutched it to her wound. Cora's hands were out of sight beneath the table, so Abilene couldn't see what she was doing, but Vivian kept her arm far to the side and bent down low. She pulled off her right sock, then wrapped it around her left hand.

Batty stepped to the corner of the table between Abilene and Vivian, picked up the knife, then reached out and slid the bowl in front of Abilene.

'Drink.'

'Oh boy.' From Finley.

Abilene stared down at the bright red fluid. She felt as if her brain was shrinking and going numb. Her cheeks tingled. Saliva flooded her mouth, the way it sometimes did when she was on the verge of vomiting.

It's only blood, she told herself. Nothing to freak out about.

She'd tasted blood before. Licking or sucking on tiny wounds after hurting herself. It wasn't awful.

But it was only my own.

So what? This is just mine and Finley's and Cora's and Vivian's. They're like family. They're like part of me.

And it's for Helen.

Gulping her saliva down, she lifted the bowl with her uninjured hand. She tilted it to her mouth, shut her eyes to avoid looking at the crimson fluid, and sipped. It rolled in, warm against her gums and tongue, thicker than she'd expected. Her throat squeezed shut. She forced herself to swallow.

She was about to lower the bowl when Batty said, 'More.'

Quickly, she tipped the bowl for another drink. Too quickly. Too carelessly. Her trembling hand, not quite in control of the heavy bowl, flooded her mouth with blood. She gulped it down. She gagged. Her eyes brimmed with tears. But she didn't vomit.

She passed the bowl to Finley.

'This gonna turn us into vampires?' Finley quipped.

'Just drink some,' Cora said.

Finley raised the bowl close to her face. 'Through the teeth and over the gums, watch out, stomach - here it comes.' She drank. She took two big gulps. As she swallowed, she had a frantic look in her eyes. A look that made Abilene think she might suddenly hurl the bowl away and scream.

Then Finley finished. She had a mustache like a kid who'd just polished off a glass of milk. But this mustache was red. She gave the bowl to Cora, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

Cora took two sips of blood in the same way she had slit her hand - fast and determined. Then she sat very rigid for a moment. She shuddered. She passed the bowl to Vivian. She rubbed the shiny crimson from her lips.

Vivian stared into the bowl. Her face looked unnaturally pale and slack. 'I don't know if I can,' she muttered.

'It's not so bad,' Abilene said.

'Zee blood is zee life,' Finley said.

'Just don't think about it,' Cora advised her. 'A couple of sips and you'll be done.'

'It'll put hair on your chest,' Finley added.

'Just what I need.' Vivian managed a sickly smile. Then she took a deep breath, sighed, raised the bowl to her mouth and drank. She swallowed twice. Lowering the bowl, she gasped as if she'd finally come up for air after nearly drowning. Blood dribbled down her chin. Before she could wipe it away, a drop fell onto the front of her white, knit shirt.

Batty stepped up between Vivian and Abilene, lifted the bowl and drank. Gulp after gulp. Swallowing. Seeming to relish the taste. Then, lips tight, cheeks bulging, the old lunatic removed the bat-skull necklace. Held it high by its leather thong.

Head tipped back, Batty opened wide and lowered the dangling skull. It went in white. It came out red. Batty's lips wrapped around the base of the skull. Sucked off some of the excess blood before swallowing the mouthful and easing the necklace away.

Like a pendulum, it swung across the leather map. Back and forth. Slowing down. Beginning to drift in lazy circles.

A drop of blood gathered on the hanging jaw. Bloomed. Fell. And splashed the map midway between Cora and the edge of the lake.

'Ah!'

The single red bead was all that fell before Batty slipped the necklace back on. The skull made a smudge on the skin of the old lunatic's chest.

Batty aimed a finger at the spot of blood on the map.

'That's where you think Helen is?' Cora asked.

'Ghost Lodge.'

'The Totem Pole Lodge?'

'Call it whatcha want.'

Stunned, Abilene stared at the dot of blood. Its position, in relationship to the outline of the lake and the hole marking Batty's cabin, actually did seem to be in the vicinity of the Totem Pole Lodge.

Finley murmured, 'Holy shit.'

Vivian gazed at the spot. Her head shook slowly from side to side.

Looking up at Batty, astonishment in her eyes, Cora said, 'That's where we were. That's where she disappeared.'

'She's there.'

'Is she all right?' Abilene asked.

'Can't say.'

'Do you know?'

Not answering, Batty picked up the bowl and set it on the hardwood floor beside the table. A creak sounded in a far corner of the room. Abilene turned her eyes to the rocking chair. The cat was gone.

Vivian groaned. She was looking down. Abilene followed her gaze and found Amos hunched over the bowl. Tail twitching, the cat lapped away at the remaining slick of blood.

'Y'ain't from these parts,' Batty said. 'Don't know better. Get y'Helen 'n get back where y'come from. 'N praise the Lord it's old Batty y'run into. Some folks nearby, they'duz soon kill y'dead as spit on y'feet. Now scat.'

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.

Batty followed them through the kitchen door and down the back stairs.

'I left something of mine in your shed,' Cora said.

'Fetch it.'

'Watch what you step in,' Finley warned.

They waited while Cora hurried into the shed. She came out with her tire iron.

Seeing it, Batty cackled. 'That spose t'hurt someone?'

'She just carries it around in case of a flat,' Finley said.

The mention of a flat tire triggered a thought in Abilene. She'd seen no evidence of a driveway or road, much less a car, since leaving the lodge. But she asked, anyway. 'You don't have a car, do you?'

Batty answered with a snort.

'What about a telephone?'

'Who'd old Batty wanta call?'

'Are there any homes nearby with cars or telephones?'