*Oh s.h.i.t!' Harris blurted, and spat out a mouthful.

*Did you swallow any?' Jim asked, rushing toward him.

*Not much, buta'

Jim jerked the knife from the back of his belt and slashed Harris's throat. He punched a b.u.t.ton on the control panel.

By the time he reached the front gate, it was open. He ran out, dashed across the clear area beyond the wall, and grabbed the bundle of spears.

The gate remained open for him. Apparently, the poison had taken care of the Guardian on the west tower.

Rushing across the courtyard, he saw two Guardians squirming on the ground.

At the outer door of the Specialty Suite, he s.n.a.t.c.hed the master key off its nail. He threw the door open and rushed in.

*All right, ladies! Listen up! We're gonna kill some vampires!'

19.

Blasts pounding his ears, Jim blew apart the lock. He threw his gun aside, kicked the door, and charged into the Banquet Room.

Followed by sixteen naked Specials yelling and brandishing spears.

For just an instant, the vampires around the serving table continued to go about their business - greedily lapping the brown, dry blood from Diane's face and b.r.e.a.s.t.s and legs as Roger groped between her thighs. The four who watched, goblets in hand, were the first to respond.

Then, roaring, they all abandoned the table and attacked.

All except Roger.

Roger stood where he was. He met Jim's eyes. * You dumb f.u.c.k!' he shouted. *Take care of him, guys!'

The vampires tried. They all rushed Roger.

But were met, first, by Specials. Some went down with spears in their chests while others tossed the women away or slammed them to the floor or snapped their spines or ripped out their throats.

Jim rushed through the melee. He halted at the near end of the table as Roger cried out, *Is this why you're here?' His hands delved. Came up a moment later with a tiny, gleaming infant. *Not enough to share, I'm afraid.' Grinning, he raised the child to his mouth. With a quick nip, he severed its umbilical cord.

One hand clutching the baby's feet, he raised it high and tilted back his head. His mouth opened wide. His other hand grasped the top of its head.

Ready to twist it off. Ready to enjoy his special, rare treat.

*No!' Diane shrieked.

Jim hurled his spear. Roger's hand darted down. He caught the shaft, stopping its flight even as the wooden point touched his chest. *d.i.c.khead,' he said. *You didn't really thinka'

Jim launched himself at Diane. He flew over her body, smashed down on her, slid through the wide V of her spread legs and reached high and grabbed the spear and rammed it deep into Roger's chest.

The vampire bellowed. He staggered backward. Coughed. Blood exploded from his mouth, spraying Jim's face and arms. He dropped to his knees and looked up at the infant that he still held high. He lowered its head toward his wide, gushing mouth.

Jim flung himself off the end of the table, but he knew he would be too late.

He landed on the spear. As its shaft snapped under his weight, b.l.o.o.d.y vomit cascaded over his head. Pushing himself up, he saw the baby dangling over Roger's mouth. The vampire tried to snap at its head, but the tide of rushing gore pushed it away.

Jim scurried forward. He held the child in both hands until Roger let go and slumped against the floor.

20.

Afterwards, the Donors were released.

They helped with the burials.

Eleven dead Specials were buried in the courtyard, their graves marked by crosses fashioned of spears.

Morgan, Donner and the Guardians, who'd all succ.u.mbed to the poison, were buried beyond the south wall of the estate.

The corpses of Roger and his fellow vampires were taken into the woods to a clearing where two trails crossed. The heads were severed. The torsos were buried with the spears still in place. The heads were carried a mile away to another crossing in the trail.

There, they were burned. The charred skulls were crushed, then buried.

After a vote by the women, Doc and three Guardians who'd missed the poisoned squirrels were put to death. Jones had also missed the meal. But the women seemed to like him. He was appointed chef. Jim was appointed leader.

He chose Diane to be his a.s.sistant.

The child was a girl. They named her Glory. She had Diane's eyes, and ears that stuck out in very much the same way as Jim's.

The small army lived in Roger's estate, and seemed happy.

Frequently, when the weather was good, a squad of well-armed volunteers would board the bus. Jim driving, they would follow roads deep into the woods. They would park the bus and wander about, searching. Sometimes, they found vampires and took them down with a shower of arrows. Sometimes, they found bands of outlaws and welcomed these strangers into their ranks.

21.

One morning, when a commotion in the courtyard drew Jim's attention, he looked down from the north tower and saw Diane gathered around the bus with half-a-dozen other women. Instead of their usual leather skirts and vests, they were dressed in rags.

Diane saw him watching, and waved. Her hair had grown, but it was still quite short. It shone like gold in the sunlight.

She looked innocent, glorious.

She and her friends commenced to paint the bus pink.

JOYCE.

Barbara bolted out of the bedroom and straight into Darren's arms. He caught her, held her.

*What's wrong?' he asked. *What is it?'

*Suha somebody under the bed!'

*Oh. I'm sorry. Did she frighten you? It's only Joyce.'

*Joyce?' Barbara struggled out of Darren's embrace and gaped at him. *But you told mea you said she was dead!'

*Well, of course she is. Do you think I would've married you if I still had a wife? It's just like I said, the brain aneurysm three years agoa'

*But you've got her under the bed!'

*Sure. Come on, I'll introduce you.'

Darren took Barbara by the hand and led her into the bedroom. She staggered along beside him. On the floor by the bed was her suitcase, the one she'd taken with her on the honeymoon, unpacked that evening, and after her shower with Darren had decided to tuck out of sight.

*Luggage doesn't go under the bed,' he explained. *I keep it out in the garage.'

Barbara stood there, trembling and gasping inside her new silk kimono, trying to stay on her feet as Darren carried the suitcase over to the door. Then he knelt and slid Joyce out from under the bed.

*Darling, meet Joyce.'

Joyce lay stiff on the carpet, her wide blue eyes gazing toward the ceiling, her lips curled in a smile that showed the edges of her straight, white teeth. Wisps of brown hair swept across her forehead. Thick tresses flowed from beneath her head - a rich, silken banner that extended past her right shoulder. Her arms, close to her sides, were reaching upward from the elbow's, hands open. Her legs were straight, parted slightly. Her feet were bare.

She wore a white negligee, a skimpy number with spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline. It was every bit as short as the nightie that Barbara had delighted Darren by wearing on their wedding night, and every bit as transparent. The way he'd dragged Joyce from beneath the bed had twisted it askew, pulling its deep V sideways so her right breast rose bare through the gap.

Smiling over his shoulder at Barbara, Darren said, *Isn't she lovely?'

Barbara dropped.

When she came to, she found herself lying in bed. Darren was sitting on its edge, a worried look on his face, a hand inside her kimono gently caressing her thigh. *Are you all right?' he asked.

She turned her head.

Joyce stood beside the bed, six feet away, still smiling. The nightie blew softly, stirred by the breeze from the window. Though it concealed nothing with its sheer fabric, at least it had been straightened so her breast no longer stuck out.

She has a better figure than me, Barbara thought.

She's more beautiful thana Barbara looked away, frowned at Darren. Though she wanted to sound calm, her voice came out high and childlike when she asked, *What's going on?'

Darren shrugged. He stroked her thigh. *It's nothing to be upset about. Really.'

*Nothing to be upset about? You've got your dead wife stuffed in your bedrooma and wearing that!'

He smiled gently. *Oh, she isn't stuffed. She's freeze-dried. I found a place that does people's deceased pets. She looks wonderful, doesn't she?'

*Oh, G.o.d.' Barbara murmured.

*And that's her favorite nightgown. I don't see why she should be deprived of it, but if you'd rather she wear something a bit more modesta'

*Darren. She's dead.'

*Well, of course.'

*You bury dead people. Or cremate them. You don'ta keep them.'

*Why not?'

*It just isn't done!'

*Oh, if I couldn't have had her preserved so nicely, I suppose there'd be some reason to dispose of her. But look at her.'

Barbara chose not to.

*She's as fresh as the day she died. She doesn't smell. What's the problem?'

*The problem? The problem?'

*I don't see any problem.'

*You've had her herea in your housea all along?'

*Sure.'

*Under the bed?'

*Well, only when I expected you to come over. I was afraid you might not take it well, so I felt it best to keep her out of sight.'

*Under the bed? When I was here? All those nights I spent here, she wasa Oh, G.o.d. You had thisa this stiff under the bed while wea'

*Not just any stiff. My wife.'

*Oh, that's supposed to make it okay?'

*She was my wife, darling. What was I supposed to do, throw her out like an old shoe? I loved her. She loved me. Why should we part, just because she stopped being alive? I would've beena so lonely without her. And look at it from her point of view. Do you think she would've enjoyed being put in a hole, all by herself? Or burnt to ashes? Good Lord, who would want a fate like that? Instead, she's here in her own house where she belongs, with her husband. Isn't that the way you would want it? Really? It's what I'd want for myself. It's what I'd want for you if, G.o.d forbid, you should stop living before I do. So we would always be together.'

*I suppose,' she muttered, *it would be better thana those other things.'