Part 19 (1/2)

”What seems to be the problem?”

”It's my skin, Doc. It's showing spots, and my knuckles are all swole up. I got wrinkles on my face, an'-”

”It sounds like you're getting old, Judd,” Phillips said softly, and instantly Judd knew the truth.

”The shot,” he breathed. ”You didn't give it to me. You gave me something else.”

”What did you expect, Judd?” Phillips replied. He was silent for a moment, then went on. ”I don't like it when you let outsiders talk to the children, Judd.”

He did did know. know.

”I didn't do no harm, Doc,” Judd whined, his terror now clear in his voice. ”Kitteridge don't know nothin'! He thinks Jonas is nuts!”

Warren Phillips's voice turned icy. ”What he thinks is immaterial, Judd. You know the rules. The children are protected from outsiders.”

”But I need my shot, Doc.” Judd was begging now, but he didn't care. ”You can't just let me die. You-”

”Without me, you would have died years ago, Judd. And there's another problem, too.”

Judd's chest tightened with fear. ”What problem?” he demanded. ”I've paid,” Judd breathed. ”I've always paid-”

”It's not that, Judd,” Phillips replied. ”It's the children. There just aren't enough of them anymore.”

”I don't get it,” Judd growled. ”You said everything was gonna be fine. There's all kinds'a kids out there. Quint and Tammy-Jo had one last month, and Amelie-”

Phillips's cold voice cut him off. ”It's not enough, Judd. There's just not enough to go around. Do you understand what I'm telling you?”

Judd's mind reeled. ”What?” he breathed. ”What do you want? I'll do anything.”

There was a silence, and then Phillips spoke once more. ”I just told you what I want, Judd. The nursery is almost empty. Supplies, Judd. I need supplies. Bring me supplies, and I'll give you your shot. A full-strength one.”

The phone in Judd's hand went dead.

Shaking, he put the receiver back on the hook, but stood where he was for a moment, his mind reeling.

He knew what Phillips wanted, what the price of his error the other day was going to be.

But how?

How could he produce what the doctor was demanding?

He looked down at the watch on his wrist, and found his eyes could barely focus on it.

He squinted, then made out the numbers.

Eight-thirty.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow he'd figure out a way.

He moved back toward the mirror, and felt a strange burning pain in his hips and knees.

Breathing hard, feeling exhaustion simply from the effort of crossing the room, he peered once more into the mirror.

Old.

He looked old, and he felt old.

But he'd live through the night.

He'd rest, and in the morning he'd find a new source for Warren Phillips.

And Phillips would restore Judd Duval's youth.

Life in Villejeune would go on-eternally.

15.

”It's time for you to go to bed, young lady,” Barbara Sheffield told Jenny, who was curled up on the end of the sofa in the family room, all but asleep already.

Instantly the girl's eyes opened wide. She sat up. ”I don't want to go to bed. I want to stay up until Michael and Kelly come back.”

”Well, you're not going to,” Barbara replied, glancing meaningfully at the clock. It was almost ten, and already Jenny had been up an hour and a half past her regular bedtime.

”But they said they'd be back by now,” Jenny argued.

”I know what they said,” Barbara agreed, her own annoyance etching her voice. When the two teenagers had left on Michael's motorcycle, it had been only a little after eight, and they'd promised to be back by nine-thirty.

”We're just going down to Arlette's for c.o.kes,” Michael had told them.

Craig had eyed his son sternly. ”See that that's the only place you go. Stay away from the park.”

Michael had rolled his eyes scornfully. ”Why would we go out there? I don't even like those kids.” He was well aware of what went on out at the county park at the other end of town, where a lot of the teenagers of Villejeune gathered in the evening, drinking beer and playing their boom boxes at top volume. Most of the time they didn't do much but hang out, but every now and then the phone rang late at night and his father had to go down to the police department to help bail out someone else's son. And always, the next morning, Michael had to listen to a lecture about staying out of trouble. On this evening, he had seen his father's eyes s.h.i.+ft meaningfully toward Kelly Anderson, and suddenly he'd understood. ”Aw, come on, Dad,” he groaned, his voice dropping so no one else would hear him. ”Lighten up, okay? Kelly doesn't even know know those kids.” those kids.”

Craig had finally agreed to let them go.

Now, as the clock in the corner struck ten, Mary Anderson stood up. ”Well, Jenny may not be tired, but I am,” she announced. ”And look at Carl-he's sound asleep.” She smiled fondly at her father-in-law, who was sprawled out in Craig's favorite recliner, snoring softly. ”Come on, Ted, wake up your father and take us home.”

Ted's jaw set stubbornly. ”I think we should wait for Kelly.”

”I'm sure you do,” Mary observed. ”And I'm sure that when she comes home, there's going to be a scene. So why don't we have it at our house, instead of here?” Though she tried to keep her tone light, the tension she was feeling showed clearly. ”Please,” she went on. ”Michael or Craig can bring her home. And I am am tired.” tired.”

For a moment she thought fed was going to argue with her, but then he stood, moving toward his father. ”Come on, Dad,” he said, shaking the older man gently. ”The boss says we're going home.”

Carl's snoring stopped and his eyes opened. ”I wasn't sleeping,” he said. ”Just resting my eyes.” He glanced at the clock, then frowned. ”Where are the kids?”