Part 39 (1/2)
EPILOGUE.
On the island at the far edge of the swamp, the last candles on the altar flickered out, the last of the dolls began to weep.
Clarey Lambert watched them for a moment, a soft smile lighting up the weathered planes of her face. And then, as the moon reached its zenith and the night began to wane, Clarey laid her body on the ground and let herself rest.
At last, after all the years of struggle, she closed her eyes for the last time and surrendered herself to the welcome darkness.
About the Author.
JOHN S SAUL is the author of twenty-eight novels, each a million-copy-plus national bestseller: is the author of twenty-eight novels, each a million-copy-plus national bestseller: Suffer the Children, Punish the Sinners, Cry for the Strangers, Comes the Blind Fury, When the Wind Blows, The G.o.d Project, Nathaniel, Brainchild, h.e.l.lfire, The Unwanted, The Unloved, Creature, Sleepwalk, Second Child, Darkness, Shadows, Black Lightning, The Homing Guardian, The Presence, The Right Hand of Evil Suffer the Children, Punish the Sinners, Cry for the Strangers, Comes the Blind Fury, When the Wind Blows, The G.o.d Project, Nathaniel, Brainchild, h.e.l.lfire, The Unwanted, The Unloved, Creature, Sleepwalk, Second Child, Darkness, Shadows, Black Lightning, The Homing Guardian, The Presence, The Right Hand of Evil, and The Blackstone Chronicles. John Saul lives in Seattle, Was.h.i.+ngton.
ENTER THE TERRIFYING WORLD OF JOHN SAUL.
A scream shatters the peaceful night of a sleepy town, a mysterious stranger awakens to seek vengeance...and once again a nightmare journey into the unknown begins.
Since 1977, John Saul has enthralled millions of readers with his novels of terror and suspense. The following excerpts are but brief glimpses into some of the most chilling corners of his shadowy world....
BRAINCHILD.
One hundred years ago in La Paloma a terrible deed was done, and a cry for vengeance pierced the night. Now, that evil still lives, and that vengeance waits...waits for Alex Lonsdale, one of the most popular boys in La Paloma. Because horrible things can happen-even to nice kids like Alex....
Alex jockeyed the Mustang around Bob Carey's Porsche, then put it in drive and gunned the engine. The rear wheels spun on the loose gravel for a moment, then caught, and the car shot forward, down the Evanses' driveway and into Hacienda Drive.
Alex wasn't sure how long Lisa had been walking-it seemed as though it had taken him forever to get dressed and search the house. She could be almost home by now.
He pressed the accelerator, and the car picked up speed. He hugged the wall of the ravine on the first curve, but the car fishtailed slightly, and he had to steer into the skid to regain control. Then he hit a straight stretch and pushed his speed up to seventy. Coming up fast was an S curve that was posted at thirty miles an hour, but he knew they always left a big margin for safety. He slowed to sixty as he started into the first turn.
And then he saw her.
She was standing on the side of the road, her green dress glowing brightly in his headlights, staring at him with terrified eyes.
Or did he just imagine that? Was he already that close to her?
Time suddenly slowed down, and he slammed his foot on the brake.
Too late. He was going to hit her.
It would have been all right if she'd been on the inside of the curve. He'd have swept around her, and she'd have been safe. But now he was skidding right toward her...
Turn into it. He had to turn into it!
Taking his foot off the brake, he steered to the right, and suddenly felt the tires grab the pavement.
Lisa was only a few yards away.
And beyond Lisa, almost lost in the darkness, something else.
A face, old and wrinkled, framed with white hair. And the eyes in the face were glaring at him with an intensity he could almost feel.
It was the face that finally made him lose all control of the car.
An ancient, weathered face, a face filled with an unspeakable loathing, looming in the darkness.
At the last possible moment, he wrenched the wheel to the left, and the Mustang responded, slewing around Lisa, charging across the pavement, heading for the ditch and the wall of the ravine beyond.
Straighten it out!
He spun the wheel the other way.
Too far.
The car burst through the guardrail and hurtled over the edge of the ravine.
”Lisaaaa...”
CREATURE.
A terrible secret lurks beneath the wholesome surface of Silver dale, Colorado, where well-behaved students make their parents and teachers proud, and the football team never-ever-loses. But soon, some of the parents in Silverdale will begin to uncover the unimaginable secret that can turn a loving child murderous....
”It's two in the morning, Chuck. And Jeff isn't home yet.”
Chuck groaned. ”And for that you woke me up? Jeez, Char, when I was his age, I was out all night half the time.”
”Maybe you were,” Charlotte replied tightly. ”And maybe your parents didn't care. But I do, and I'm about to call the police.”
At that, Chuck came completely awake. ”What the h.e.l.l do you want to do a thing like that for?” he demanded, switching on the light and staring at Charlotte as if he thought she'd lost her mind.
”Because I'm worried about him,” Charlotte flared, concern for her son overcoming her fear of her husband's tongue. ”Because I don't like what's been happening with him and I don't like the way he's been acting. And I certainly don't like not knowing where he is at night!”
Clutching the robe protectively to her throat, she turned and hurried out of the bedroom. She was already downstairs when Chuck, shoving his own arms into the sleeves of an ancient woolen robe he'd insisted on keeping despite its frayed edges and honeycomb of moth holes, caught up with her.
”Now just hold on,” he said, taking the phone from her hands and putting it back on the small desk in the den. ”I'm not going to have you getting Jeff into trouble with the police just because you want to mother-hen him.”
”Mother-hen him!” Charlotte repeated. ”For G.o.d's sake, Chuck! He's only seventeen years old! And it's the middle of the night, and there's nowhere in Silverdale he could be! Everything's closed. So unless he's already in trouble, where is he?”
”Maybe he stayed overnight with a friend,” Chuck began, but Charlotte shook her head.
”He hasn't done that since he was a little boy. And if he had, he would have called.” Even as she uttered the words, she knew she didn't believe them. A year ago-a few months ago; even a few weeks ago-she would have trusted Jeff to keep her informed of where he was and what he was doing. But now? She didn't know.
Nor could she explain her worries to Chuck, since he insisted on believing there was nothing wrong; that Jeff was simply growing up and testing his wings.
As she was searching for the right words, the words to express her fears without further rousing her husband's anger, the front door opened and Jeff came in.