He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, hoping to clear his vision. Eyes open again, however, his sight didn't improve. Still, he could see only the faint, blowing shape of grayness surrounded by the dark.

This sucks so bad, he thought.

Does she think she's being funny?

Not at all.

I knew she had a screw loose the minute I saw her running around naked under that sheet... I KNEW it... should've gotten the hell away from her... .

Probably is no Julie, he thought. This nutjob probably made up the story to lure us in.

"What's going on?" he demanded. Though he trembled inside, his voice sounded good and stern. No answer came. "Okay," he said. And strode forward. Am I out of my mind? Jostling in his vision, the gray blur grew larger.

What if she's armed?

She didn't seem to be making any move at all.

He stopped in front of her and grabbed her shoulders through the sheet. They felt thick, hard, lumpy.

He jerked the sheet away.

Something dark, not a person. He ran his hands over it.

Bark? Splintered wood? What was it, the remains of an old tree that had...?

Crunching sounds came at him from behind.

He whirled around and let out a startled cry.

It was a woman. Probably the woman from under the sheet, but he couldn't be sure. All he saw was a large human shape rushing at him, a gray blur darker than the sheet but clearly a woman, a naked woman with her arms upraised.

Something in her hands?

He flung up his own arms to protect his head.

But not fast enough.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN.

Walking was hard, lashed back to back, especially because of the difference in their sizes. Nor did it help that they were already in rough shape from the earlier assaults and worn out from so much rolling across the graveyard.

Forced to return to their starting place, it would've been easier to roll than walk.

When you're rolling on the grass, you don't fall down. When you don't fall down, you don't get smashed against the ground or ripped by the ropes or have to fight your way back to your feet to resume walking.

For a while, they'd made some progress by sidestepping.

Then the woman had pushed them, made them fall, and stood over them and taunted them. What a couple of klutzes. Don't you know how to walk? Come on, come on, get up. Don 't just lie there On your feet. We haven't got all night.

Up again, they continued their journey but didn't get very far before the woman pranced over to Laura. Matching her sidesteps, she shined her flashlight up and down Laura, then reached out with one hand and clipped her right breast.

"Don't."

She squeezed.

"Ow!"

"Nice."

Laura kicked. Her toes jabbed the woman's right leg just below the knee.

"Hey!" The woman hopped away but came back fast, raising her flashlight, swinging it at Laura's face. She missed, but not by much.

And she only missed because Laura was lurching backward, carried out of range by Shannon, Shannon staggering, struggling to stay up after the sudden shift of balance. A moment later, Shannon gasped "Shit!" and Laura felt herself rising, tilting back. Her feet left the ground behind. She faced the windblown branches, the shredded white clouds, the bright moon.

She felt a quick flutter of fear.

A bad carnival ride.

One that throws you backward.

Afraid of bumping heads, she tucked down her chin.

Her fall stopped with a jolt, a grunt from Shannon, and a slight forward motion as Shannon skidded on the grass. The impact jostled Laura, gave her injured body a rough shake, but didn't hurt too much.

Thanks to Shannon.

"Sorry," Laura muttered.

Shannon groaned. "No... problem."

Standing over them, the woman pulled off her robe and threw it to the ground. She wore nothing except a belt around her waist and a pair of black leather boots. "Royce," she said, "take the kid over with the others."

"What're you gonna do?"

"The bitch kicked me."

"Ya don't wanta kill her."

"Think not?" She unfastened her bell buckle.

"I know she ain't a kid, Fain, but she's young. You shouldn't go and waste her."

"Mind your own fucking business."

"Yeah? We come up short, she's yours."

Belt in hand, Fain slipped her dagger from its sheath and turned toward Royce.

"I'm going, I'm going." He gave Betsy's arm a tug and hurried away with her.

Fain waited, watching them leave. She waited and waited.

When she's done waiting, Laura thought, she's going to use the dagger on me. She's going to kill me.

My God.

It didn't seem possible. She wanted it to be a nightmare, wanted to wake up from it. But she knew it was no nightmare, knew it was real.

A few minutes from now, she thought, I'll be dead.

This can't be happening.

Only it is.

It's happening all right. It happens to people all the time... no, not all the time, just once. But it happens every day to someone and why should I be any exception? It's just the way it goes.

She'll probably kill Shannon, too. That'll be too bad, but at least we'll go together. It's not like we'll miss each other.

It'll kill Mom and Dad.

The tall, hairless woman, dusky under the moon light, turned around and looked down at her. The shadows of bare, wind-shaken limbs trembled across her naked body.

"Please," Laura said. "Don't. I'm sorry I kicked you."

"Sorry doesn't cut it, honey." She smiled. "But I do. I cut it." She chuckled softly.

"Don't. Please."

Fain s hook her head. "Hut not right now."

"Uh?"

"The cutting will come later. The cutting and the killing, Royce really thought I'd do you now," Again, the soft chuckle "Don't worry, I won't. Royce has his head up his ass, but he was right about wasting you. You and your buddy get to stay alive a while longer."

"Thank you."

"You're so very, very welcome." Fain plunged the dagger into its sheath and pulled the sheath off her belt. Bending over, she slid them down into the top of her left boot. Then she wrapped her right hand around the buckle of her belt, swung the belt overhead and whipped it down.

Through the Halloween wind, Laura heard it whussss on its way. Then came the krak! as the leather strap smacked her across the chest. She felt its fire. Felt her body lurch. Heard her cry of pain.

"What'd she do? " Shannon blurted from underneath her.

"Twenty lashes," Fain explained, and whipped Laura again.

"Damn you!" Shannon cried out. "Leave her alone! Stop that! You wanta pull shit like that, try it with me! Leave her alone!"

"My, oh, my, aren't we gallant?"

"I'm gonna kill you, you fucking..."

Fain reached high with her right arm and twirled the belt overhead, her body shimmying with the circular motion of her arm. Shannon continued to yell, but Laura didn't listen to her words, all her focus on the twirling belt...

And here it comes again.

"No!" Laura cried out.

Her word didn't stop it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT.

"Hi," Hunter said.

Charles, sprawled at the foot of the stairway, squinted up at him.

"You all right?" Hunter asked.

Dumb question.

"Don't... Don't hurt me."

"I'm not gonna hurt you."

But Charles was eyeing the sword in Hunter's right hand, the pistol in his left.

Hunter raised the pistol. "Shannon's. It's no good anyway. Has a trigger lock." He raised the sword. "I got this off Eleanor. Your lucky sword, man. You had it when you fell down the stairs and you didn't even get cut."

"I... fell?"

"Down the whole stairway, sounded like, and you got knocked out. I was starting to think you might not wake up."

Charles grimaced. Moving slightly, he gasped with pain. "What's... what's wrong with me?"