Paradise County (50 page)
“I’ve got a news flash for you, Princess,” he said. “I’m crazy in love with you.”
Alex looked up at him, at the dark handsome face and sea blue eyes, at the wide bare shoulders that loomed over her, at the man who, in such a short time, had assumed center stage in her world: at Joe.
“I’m crazy in love with you, too,” she said with a little laugh. Lifting her tired arms to link her hands behind his neck, she smiled at him, tremulously, and he bent his head to softly, gently kiss her mouth.
Later, he went out to the barn to check on the horses and she went upstairs to pack some clothes.
“I’ll be back in fifteen minutes to get you,” he promised. “But just to be on the safe side, set the alarm and lock the door.”
T
he monster had started leaving the TV set on for, he said, her viewing pleasure. At first, because the screen was small and rather far away, Neely hadn’t realized exactly what it was she was watching.
A picture of an empty room—big deal. But at least it provided some small degree of illumination, so that she was not left in utter darkness.
It was only when she saw a figure walk into that room that she realized, to her horror, exactly what she was watching. Alex’s bedroom. Alex.
At first she had screamed at her sister, instinctively assuming she could hear, but of course Alex could not. Now she just watched dully as Alex infrequently appeared.
Neely had long since figured out that Alex could not be staying in the house. She was only in her bedroom for a few minutes at a time, and never seemed to sleep there. She probably didn’t want to stay alone in the house.
Were they looking for her and Eli? Neely wondered achingly. She knew they were, knew that a frantic search must be under way. The real question was, would she and Eli be found?
She was afraid she knew the answer to that too.
Nobody was going to come to save them, at least, not in time.
She was going to have to save herself.
She had a plan. It wasn’t a good plan, but it was the only one she could come up with. The bed frame had metal slats going across it to support the box spring and mattress. The slats were screwed into place. While she was sitting there in the semi-dark, she worked and worked until she managed to unscrew a slat. Once it was free, she had flicked on the flashlight and examined it closely. It was about three feet long, possibly a little more, with rounded corners, very sturdy.
She sat in the dark again, scraping one rounded end back and forth over the stone floor, endlessly it seemed, until she had worn it to a point on one side. Then she switched to the other side, scraping and scraping, for hours on end.
She was making a spear.
Once, long ago, in a comic strip somewhere, she had read about mole people. They were called that because they lived underground and never, ever surfaced or saw the sunlight. That’s what she felt like. She could have been in this hole for years, or even centuries. The odds were that she was never going to see the sunlight again. She doubted that she would emerge from this vampire’s tomb alive.
But she was going to try. She was growing very weak, she knew. It had been so long since she had eaten anything other than a bug that she was no longer even hungry. Bugs—cockroaches, crickets, disgusting insects with dozens of legs—were not very plentiful in her prison, but each day she managed to capture one or two. They crunched when she bit into them, but actually, if she didn’t think about what she was eating they weren’t so bad.
If it had not been for the drip in the corner of the ceiling, she would have died. Water came in there, beading on the stone, just enough to keep her from succumbing to thirst. Her tongue and lips felt swollen, though, and parched all the time. Already her skin stood up in tiny peaks if she pinched it, and this, she knew, was the hallmark of dehydration.
Eli had regained consciousness from time to time, moaning and tossing but not really lucid. He was in far worse shape than she was. She had
torn a clean piece of cloth from the hem of his T-shirt, chewing at the cloth until it had given, and she used that to soak up moisture for him. Nine or ten times a day she would soak it and then squeeze the water out in his mouth, maybe getting a teaspoon’s worth at a time. Several times she had tried squashing a bug and putting it in his mouth so that he could eat, but she couldn’t get him to swallow.
If help did not come soon, or her plan did not work, he would die. They would both die.
The only question was how.
The monster visited regularly, bringing food and water each time. He would set it outside the door and walk away, hoping to make her think he was gone, hoping to lure her out. The smell drove her insane, making her stomach knot and growl. But if she succumbed to the trays he left for her, he would catch her, she knew. He was waiting for her out there in the dark beyond the door.
How stupid did he think she was, anyway? He had brought another chain, and a big padlock, which he used to secure the door when he left. When he arrived, he set out the food and took the chain off and walked away. An imbecile could figure that one out. But she’d always been stubborn, and she wasn’t just going to let him win. She might die, but she wasn’t going to die without a fight.
Her plan was to rearrange the barricade so that, with a little effort, he could get in. She would lie down beside Eli as if unconscious too, and wait. When he was inside, she would stab him with her spear.
But first she had to get the spear made.
Hannibal appeared while she was scraping. She had already figured out that the cat’s eyes were the two glowing green things she had seen in the dark, and she knew, too, that her father’s voice was all in her head. But at least he talked to her frequently, giving her good advice.
Hannibal’s appearances invariably prefaced an appearance by the monster—he must somehow get into this place through whatever entrance the monster used—so when Neely saw him she immediately hid the spear under the bed.
Today, instead of approaching the bars—he was too fat to fit
through—he jumped on the table, and sat, tail twitching, beside the TV set.
If he hadn’t drawn her attention to it, Neely never would have seen Alex walk into her bedroom.
Neely watched, transfixed, as her sister walked across the room and opened the closet, rifling through her clothes. The image was small, but it was clear.
Watching, Neely felt her throat close up and her stomach clench.
Alex! she almost called her sister’s name, but she remembered that the monster was coming and did not.
Deliberately she turned away from the screen. There was no point in torturing herself.
Neely.
It was her father’s voice again, talking inside her head.
Neely, use the cat.
Use the cat. All of a sudden it became clear to Neely exactly what the voice meant.
She pulled off her one remaining sock and tied a quick knot in it so that it formed a loop. For good measure she popped the diamond stud out of her nose and secured it to the sock. Then she crouched down. She didn’t have much time, she knew.
“Hannibal! Here, kitty! Come here, Hannibal!”
To her relief, he came. Neely reached through the bars, grabbed him—and slipped her sock around his neck.
“Go!” she whispered to him. “Go!”
For a moment he just stood there looking at her, his green eyes glowing in the gloom. Then, with a twitch of his tail, he stalked away.
And the flashlight that always announced the arrival of the monster appeared.
A
lex was just finishing gathering up what she would need for the next few days when she heard Hannibal. He was in her closet, and he was meowing his head off.
Had she locked him in there when she closed the door? She didn’t even remember seeing him, but apparently she had.
She wanted to smile and cry at the same time, remembering Neely’s comment about the dematerializing cat.
She opened the closet door and let the cat out. He stalked past her, waving his tail and jumped up on the bed, right in the center of her neat little pile of clothes.
And he sat.
“Shoo!” Alex said, waving her hands at him. But still he sat, fixing his eyes on her, as if he intended to stay right where he was until the end of time.
Joe would be back in a minute, and she really needed those clothes.
Girding her courage, she picked the enormous animal up.
And saw the sock tied around his neck.
T
he predator was smiling as he set the tray down on the floor.
“Aren’t you hungry, Cornelia?” he asked genially. “You know, you’ll starve to death if you don’t eat.”
Cornelia didn’t reply. She sat huddled in a corner, refusing to look at him. Bad little girl. When he got his hands on her, he was going to make her pay… .
His gaze strayed to the TV screen. Ah, Alexandra was home! She’d been away lately, so it was a real treat to see her on Alexandra TV. At the moment, she was leaning over her bed, picking up that damned cat.
She was removing something from around the cat’s neck. It looked like a noose… .
It was a strip of cloth with a knot in it.
She untied the knot and shook it out. All of a sudden her eyes went wide.
His eyes went wide too. His gaze slashed around to Neely, who was still huddled in the corner staring at the floor.
“You bitch!” he snarled, and raced for the stairs.
A
lex stared at the sock in her hand. It was a pink trouser sock, grimy, stained with what looked like blood—with a diamond nose stud stuck through the toe.
Neely! Her heart raced. Her pulse pounded. Neely must have tied this sock around the cat’s neck… .
Joe! She had to tell Joe! She hurried toward the bedroom door. Neely had to be somewhere nearby; Eli had to be somewhere nearby… .
From the state of the sock, Neely and Eli were in trouble. The sock was obviously an attempt to signal for help.
She pivoted, heading back toward the phone. In the weeks that she had been here, she had discovered that Paradise County did indeed boast 911 service. If ever anybody needed it, she needed it now.