"Then tell me," Collins said, walking over to the boy. "Where is she, son?"

Todd looked at the sheriff for a long moment.

"The rock's got her."

"The...what?"

"The big rock in the woods. It's got her. It tried to get me, but I got away, so it took her instead."

-2-.

Seti dragged the girl through the woods by the arm, ignoring the briar bushes and the undergrowth that pulled at them. It was pitch dark and he didn't have a flashlight, but he knew exactly where he was going. The voice guided him, and all he needed to do was follow. The voice had told him where to find her, had instructed him to bring a roll of duct tape to stick across her mouth and stifle her whimpering, and had told him what to do with her when he found her. A couple of hard smacks to the face had taken the fight out of her.

He had wanted to kill her right then and there in the woods and probably would have, if the voice hadn't stopped him.

"Not yet," the voice had instructed. "Bring her back with you and be patient. I will tell you when the time is right."

So now he dragged her back towards his car, an old Taurus which was parked on Route 102. He slapped her in the back of the head and tossed her in the passenger's seat, then quickly tied her hands behind her back with a short length of twine. Tears rolled down the girl's face as she whimpered, but the duct tape did its job and he didn't have to listen to her. Not that it would have mattered. When they cried it only stirred him up. He never felt sorry for them, no matter what they did. And this one was a slut anyway, he decided. A little cock-teasing slut. He locked the door, then went into the driver's side and climbed in.

The girl looked at him accusingly through a blackened eye, but he just grinned.

"I'm taking you home with me," he said to her. "And we're going to have some fun. You're gonna like it!"

Then, with anticipation, he pulled out onto Route 102 and headed down the road to his makeshift campground in the woods. The voice had told him to be patient. But it hadn't said he couldn't amuse himself with his new victim in the meantime.

-3-.

For the second time in a week, Erik found himself tramping through the woods in the darkness with a flashlight. Only this time, at least, he wasn't alone. Several State Troopers from the Scituate barracks, Pastor Mark, and about a dozen volunteers from the village fanned out on either side of him, spaced 25 feet apart as they moved carefully forward through the thick forest. Each of them carried a portable walkie-talkie and a compass to keep them walking straight.

Erik felt about as comfortable in the woods as zebra would on a tight rope, but he really hadn't been able to refuse when the sheriff had asked for volunteers. It could have been his own kid out therea"in fact, if Dovecrest hadn't found Todd when he wandered off, it would have been his kid.

He walked slowly forward, sweeping the ground with his flashlight beam. He still couldn't help thinking about what Todd had saida"the rock got her. And he couldn't help remembering the last post he'd read on the Satanic web sitea""those who oppose him will suffer misery and death at the black stone."

Then there was the graveyard with the headstone made out of a meteorite. Could that be the black stone? Was there a connection? He wanted to ask the sheriff these questions, but the man had looked at Todd as if he were crazy when he'd said that the rock had got the girl. He'd laughed it off and told the boy he'd been watching too many movies. Then he'd asked Erik to go to the shopping plaza and meet up with the other volunteers.

Pastor Mark had already been there when Erik arrived, but he had not had the opportunity to ask the preacher any questions. He wondered if the pastor would think he was crazy, too. It was funny, he thought, how the Bible dealt with Satan and demons and people believed, but such things weren't accepted in the modern world.

The forest was darker than everything he could imagine, and he looked to the right and the left and was comforted by the flashlight beams to either side of him. Whatever moonlight that shone was completely obliterated by the canopy of leaves overhead. There were no paths here, so the going was very slow as he pushed himself past and through bushes and around tree trunks. It looked as if no one had passed through this section of woods in decades.

Vaguely, he wondered what it was about these woods that attracted kids into thema"first his son, and now this teenager. It didn't make sense. Then he reminded himself that the actions of kids seldom did. Like the time he, as a little boy, had stuck a bean in his ears so he couldn't hear the teacher, and then had been unable to get the thing out without a painful and embarrassing trip to the emergency room. That hadn't made sense either.

He pressed forward, not knowing exactly what he was looking for. Occasionally the searchers would call out the girl's name, but there was no response. He wondered how far into the woods she could possibly have gone. And that black stonea"that still haunted him.

Then, just ahead, he caught sight of something white in his flashlight beam. He charged through a rhododendron bush and there it was, right at the base of a large oak tree.

He recognized it immediatelya"it was a girl's white sneaker, and it probably belonged to the missing teen.

"Over here!" he called. "I've found something."

Everyone on the line stopped as the word was passed down. The State Trooper on his right edged over to take a look.

"I'd say it's probably hers," he said. "Don't touch anything. We may be looking at a crime scene."

-4-.

Todd woke up sweating, his heart beating a mile a minute. It was just a nightmare, he thought with relief. But it had been so real.

He had been in the dark, huddled in a tiny space with his knees up to his chin and his hands tightly tied behind his back. The knots hurt his wrists and his feet hurt with pins and needles where they had fallen asleep, as his mother called it. A thick piece of tape held his mouth closed and it was hard to breathe through his nose. Something had hit him in the nose, he realized, and in the eye, which was swollen almost shut. He also hurt in his private places, but he couldn't even think about that because what had happened was just too scary and too disgusting.

He could sense the presence of the man who had done this to hima"he was very close but he couldn't see him in the dark. He knew this man would kill him. It was only a matter of time. He sensed it and he knew it.

Then he had woke up and realized it was just a dream, a horrible, frighteningly real dream that still echoed throughout his entire being. Yet he also knew that it was not a dream. At some level, it was real and either was happening or would happen in the near future.

Then, with sudden shock, he realized that he was dreaming about Melissa, the missing girl, and that for her, it was not a dream at all, but a terrible, terrible reality.

Todd wanted to tell someone about his dream and tell them the girl was in trouble. But he knew they wouldn't listen. The sheriff had laughed at him when he'd mentioned the rock, and even Mom and Dad thought he was imagining things.

He rolled over and wished that Faith were here with him to curl up in his arms. He didn't expect to get much more sleep that night.

-5-.

It didn't take long to positively identify the sneaker as belonging to Melissa. The searchers then converged on the spot, which was roped off with yellow tape. Erik joined the sheriff and one of the State Police investigators and they followed the girl's trail through the woods until it abruptly ended on Route 102.

The State Trooper spent a long time looking around near the side of the road, and made Erik stand back and away so as not to disturb anything.

"I think we may have a crime scene here," he said. "I'm calling in the detectives. It looks like the girl was put into a car."

"Could someone have stopped and picked her up?" the sheriff asked.

"Well, I'm not a crime scene expert," the trooper said. "But it looks to me like there was a struggle here. I'd say the girl was abducted. In fact, I think she was taken in the woods and brought back here."

Erik shook his head. "Is there anything we can do?"

"We'll put out a state-wide alert," the Trooper said. "We'll put her picture on the news and hope someone's seen her. And we'll follow the evidence and see what we can find."

Erik didn't like the sound of the man's voice. It didn't hold much hope.

"Come on," the Sheriff said. "I'll give you a lift home. There's not much else we can do tonight. We'll let the experts take over."

Erik nodded and got into the sheriff's car. It was almost midnight by now, and he was glad they were only a half mile from home.

"What was your boy talking about? The sheriff said. "A rock? Where'd he get that from?"

Erik sighed deeply. "He was lost in the woods a couple of night ago. I don't know what it is about woods that attract kids," he said.

"Happens all the time," the sheriff said.

"Yeah. Anyway, he was lost for about an hour. Johnny Dovecrest found him and brought him back."

"Now that one's a weird bird," the sheriff said.

"He does appear a little strange. But he found Todd in the woods. Todd wouldn't say anything at first, but later he told me there was a big black rock in the woods, and that the rock tried to get him. He claims he got away by hitting the thing with his geologist's hammer."

The sheriff was silent for a moment.

What do you think happened?"

"I really don't know. Todd's not the kind of kid to make up things like that. He's a pretty practical kid, usually. But it just sounded so farfetched. I mean, a rock trying to get him. I thought it was all in his imagination. Then I heard about that gravestone in the historical cemetery. I wonder if there's a connection. I don't think he could have wandered that far, but...."

His voice trailed off into silence. The sheriff pulled into Erik's driveway and parked the car.

"There have been some weird goings-on since they dug up that cemetery," the sheriff said.

"Like what?"

"Well, nothing I can really put my finger on. Just weird stuff. Like people reporting voices from the woods. Pets disappearing. And just...well...I don't know how to say this...."

"Just try."

"Well, it's a creepy feeling. Like I said, I can't put my finger on it. Just a creepy feeling. And now your boy going off into the woods and getting lost. And this teenager disappearing. I don't know. It just feels wrong."

"Yeah," Erik said. "I think I've felt it too. I thought it was because I just moved into the place and it wasn't familiar. But now I'm not so sure."

He stopped and waited a moment before he opened the car door.

"Sheriff, have you heard any reports of a Satanic cult in the area?"

"Hmmm. There's been rumors for as long as I can remember about things going on in the woods. Mostly the Indians get blamed. But it's just urban legends. There hasn't been a kidnapping or a murder in this town for fifty years, at least. I think every small town has rumors. I don't pay any attention to them."

"I heard there was a Satanic cult traveling east and they were in Rhode Island."

"I'll check into it. But my guess is that the devil hasn't got anything to do with this girl's disappearance. I suspect we might just have your run-of-the-mill pervert. Or it might even turn out to be a relative. I think the father ran off and left. Maybe he's come back."

Erik nodded. "You're probably right."

"Still, though, I'll check with the State Police on your cult. If there is one around, I want to know about it."

"Thanks," Erik said, and climbed out of the car.

-6-.

Johnny Dovecrest hadn't answered the door when the police knocked. He'd pretended not to be home, and since the place was completely dark anyway, they had believed it, too.

Dovecrest didn't need the police to tell him what was going on. Another child had disappeared, this time a sixteen-year-old girl. He'd heard it on a news bulletin, and even if he hadn't, he would have known. He had felt the girl's fear this time. It had been strong and close. He wondered if he could have helped her. He felt guilty for not trying, but he was convinced there was nothing he could have done. The entity had a human helper now, someone who was strong and swift, and guided by a power beyond anything that could be imagined on earth.

Dovecrest knew that his power was limited. Very limited. The entity might play with him and let him live, at least for now. He could almost hear the thing taunting him in his brain, daring him to come out and try to stop things.

No, Dovecrest knew that he couldn't stop the nightmare by himself. But he didn't know where to turn to for help. His own people were useless. And the white man would just think he was crazya"and why wouldn't he? The story was certainly beyond anything in modern culturea"the kind of things that bad movies were made about.

The boy was the only one who would believe him. The boy knew, and Dovecrest sensed it. But what good would one little boy be against this? Unless the boy could make others believe. Maybe his father. Maybe the preacher. Maybe even the sheriff.

Dovecrest was torn. Part of him felt that he should rush out into the woods right now and confront this thing before it became more powerfula"and its power was increasing each and every day. And part of him felt that he needed to wait, recruit others and develop a plan.

He feared that by the time he could do that, though, it would be too late.

Whatever he decided, he needed to do something and do it fast. He felt his window of opportunity leaving him. It was already too late to help the girl, he realized. She was gone, taken away to some place where she would be dealt with later, at a time and place of the being's own choosing. He knew the place. The time was less certain.

Tomorrow would be the day when he would begin his recruitment efforts. He would go and see the boy and his father, and try to make the man understand the truth of what the boy had seen in the woods. He would make him understand what was happeninga"what had happened and how history was poised to repeat itself in a new and improved version. The mana"Erik Huntera"had seemed intelligent. He could make him understand. He could make him believe.

Then he would at least have an ally. Together they could perhaps recruit others and make a plan.

Otherwise, Dovecrest feared that this sleepy little town would never be the same again.

CHAPTER TEN.

-1-.

The Chepachet Public Library was something right out of a Norman Rockwell painting. The small, stone building was well over 150 years old, with ivy crawling up the sides like ancient weeds. The place even smelled like an artifact, Erik thought, as he opened the heavy oak door and stepped inside.

The library itself was smaller than many executive offices Erik had seen, and as he looked at the two men standing behind the reference desk he wondered why it took two people to run the place. He'd met them both before on a previous trip, though, and had taken an immediate dislike to them. When he'd asked them to order his book for the library, they had given him a hard time. The acquisitions guy, it seemed, didn't read fiction and, therefore didn't order any.

"What do you read?" Erik had asked.

"Magazines," he had snapped, and walked away.

The director, a thin, fragile-looking man, always looked like he was going to cry, and when he wasn't crying he was constantly whining about something. He hadn't been much help either about ordering the book.

This time he avoided the two and went right to the reference shelves. They didn't even acknowledge him, and Erik understood why the library was always empty. Although the library in Foster was a good five miles further down the road, it was well worth the investment of time to deal with librarians who actually liked helping people.

But this time he knew the information he needed could only be found here, in the local village vaults. He found the section on local history and began his search.

Most of the published history books weren't much help, except for some pictures of the village from the past century. He found a couple of pictures of the old librarya"it really hadn't changed in the last hundred years, and Erik suspected that Jane Austen was still catalogued under "new fiction." He found some old pictures of the village, and even of some of the woods along Route 102, where the new road had been cut. He also found some pictures of the Narragansett Indian tribe, and one of Dovecrest. Although the picture was a hundred years old, Dovecrest looked exactly the same. It must be his father, Erik thought, but the name in the caption was clear enough. It had to be a misprint.

He rummaged through the ancient card cataloguea"although the library system was on computers, no one had bothered to computerize the local records. Erik did ask the director about that.

"Oh, we haven't gotten to that yet. We're too busy cataloguing the video tape collection."

"Won't the videos be obsolete now that people have DVD players," he'd asked, but the director merely shrugged and went on to complain about the burning pain in his stomach, so Erik merely threw up his hands and went back to the musty card catalogue.

One entry referred to a vertical file on Chepachet history, which Erik couldn't find anywhere. With a sigh, he went back to the reference desk.