Endless Night Part 6

"He's been gone these nine years."

"Please open the door. Please!"

"This is my son's house. Dr. Ernest Youngman."

"Is he home?"

"I wish he were. I'm sure he would know precisely what to do in this sort of predicament. But he simply isn't here. He's off to Big Bear for the weekend with the whole kit *n' kaboodle. Everyone but me, that is." Her face lit up. A bony old hand with liver spots appeared in front of her face, and snapped its fingers. "I'll call up Ernest right this very minute and ..."

Jody swung the Slugger hard with both hands.

Its fat end struck the door just below Mrs. Youngman's face.

The blow sounded like a shotgun blast.

The old lady jumped.

"Open the door or I'll break it down!" Jody shouted.

The face vanished.

Oh, G.o.d, now I've done it.

Lowering the bat, Jody rushed forward and pressed her face to the bars. She couldn't see Mrs. Youngman. "I'm sorry," she said. "Please. I'm so scared. If they get me, they're gonna chop me up and ... Please!"

"You made me pee myself!"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Really."

"You're a vicious child!"

"I'm not. Really. I'm sorry."

"A juvenile delinquent, that's what you are!"

"Jody!" Andy's voice. Calling from somewhere not far away.

His voice thrilled her with joy; he'd made it. The creeps hadn't caught up with him. But his voice also shot terror through her; he was on his way, and they were sure to be close behind him.

Jody whirled around and spotted Andy as he dashed past the end of the hedge by the driveway. She waved her arm.

"Where are they?" she called.

"Coming," he yelled. Changing direction, he raced straight toward her. Apparently, he could see that the door's spy hatch was open. "You got him!"

"Afraid not. He's at Big Bear. n.o.body's here but his mother, and she won't let us in."

"Mable!" Andy shouted as he ran closer. "It's Andy! Mable, you've gotta let us in!"

Hearing metallic rattles and clacks, Jody turned to the door. It swung wide open.

She lunged over the threshold. Mrs. Youngman, behind the door, scowled at her. The old woman's eyes were red and full of tears.

"I'm sorry," Jody said.

"The damage has been done, you mean thing."

Andy charged into the foyer. As he flopped onto the marble floor, huffing, Jody took the door from Mrs. Youngman.

She gazed past its edge as she swept it along.

Out on the sidewalk, the man with the knife ran into view from beyond the hedge.

Jody finished shutting the door very fast.

But not fast enough, she was sure of that. He'd been looking at her.

She groaned as she twisted the deadbolt lock.

"What?" Andy gasped.

"I think he saw me."

Chapter Five.

"They'll be coming in," Jody said.

Andy, still gasping on the floor, shook his head. Sweat dripped off his hair as if he'd just stepped out of a shower. His jeans hung low, showing where his tan ended. The skin of his back was ruddy and wet, crisscrossed with welts and scratches. "Maybe not," he gasped.

"We're witnesses. They've gotta kill us."

"n.o.body's going to kill anyone," Mrs. Youngman said. Sniffing, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "The both of you come with me. We'll call the police this instant."

Andy pushed himself off the floor. He backhanded sweat out of his eyes. His chest and belly looked worse than his back.

"What happened to you?" Jody asked.

"Went through some bushes. Fell. Couple times." He grinned. "Really gave 'em a run."

"Let's not dally," Mrs. Youngman said. She led the way. She wore a pale blue nightgown. Jody, hurrying after her, saw that the back of it had a wet place down below her rump.

"I'm really sorry I scared you that way."

"Hush about it."

"I'm not a jerk. I don't do stuff like that. I just ... I kind of went nuts for a second. You know? Those guys, they're like ... Do you have a gun?"

"I most certainly do not."

"Does your son? Does he keep one around for ..."

"Guns are for killing, young lady. My Ernest is a healer." She stepped through an archway into a dark room and reached toward the wall. A moment later, a chandelier bloomed light.

Following Mrs. Youngman alongside a big oak dining table, Jody looked for a telephone.

She didn't see one.

Who ever heard of a phone in the dining room, anyhow?

"Where is it?" she asked.

The old woman turned around. "Don't you listen? You should listen when you're spoken to." On the second "listen," she pecked Jody in the chest with her forefinger.

"Hey," Jody said.

"Don't you *hey' me." Two more pecks. Her fingernail was long. Jody could feel its curved end jabbing through the thin fabric of her nights.h.i.+rt. She knew it must be making little crescent dents in the skin between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

This is crazy, she thought.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"You young people think you're so smart, you never listen to anyone." She pecked Jody again. "What did I tell you?"

"About what?"

Another peck.

"Mable," Andy said. "Quit doing that to her."

Mrs. Youngman ignored him and jabbed Jody four more times as she explained, "I told you. I think I made myself quite clear on the matter. My Ernest doesn't keep guns in his house."

"I know!"

"If you know, why did you persist in asking me where ... ?"

"The telephone. The telephone! I wanted to know where the telephone is!"

"I know where the telephone is. That's where we were going before you began pestering me."

"I'm sorry," Jody said. "I won't pester you again. But we'd better hurry."

Mrs. Youngman turned around and resumed walking. "There's no call to hurry," she said. "The house is all locked up safe and sound. We'll be perfectly fine until the police arrive."

"The police," Jody said, "don't actually show up the instant you call."

Mrs. Youngman scowled over her shoulder.

If she stops again, I'm gonna knock her down and find the phone myself.

She kept walking.

"Are you being smart with me, young lady?"

"No."

"Her dad's a cop," Andy explained.

"That explains a great deal," Mrs. Youngman said, and stepped through a doorway at the end of the dining room.

The light came on, and Jody followed her into the kitchen. She walked close behind her. She had an urge to smack the back of her head, just a quick swat with her open hand.

"There's nothing wrong with my dad," she said.

"I'm sure."

Jody saw Mrs. Youngman's reflection off to the right in the gla.s.s of the sliding door beyond the breakfast table. First a side view, then a front view. The image of the old woman was very distinct, but had a depth that showed darkness through her.

A phone was mounted on the wall just to the left of the door.

Mrs. Youngman stopped and reached for it.

Jody wondered if the sliding door was locked.

Then she saw herself in the gla.s.s. She stood just beyond the kitchen table, the bat hanging from one hand while her other hand squeezed the back of a chair. It was like looking at a stranger, a haggard and terrified urchin who resembled Jody only by coincidence and who happened to be wearing a red jersey nights.h.i.+rt just like Jody's, with Winnie the Pooh hugging a honey pot on its front. She knew this wasn't a stranger, though. She could feel the nights.h.i.+rt hanging against her skin, feel where it was so wet that it clung to her. She could also feel the curved wood of the chairback against her thighs, the slippery handle of the bat, the floor under her bare feet, and places all over her body that felt as hot as b.u.ms where she'd been sc.r.a.ped, scratched and poked.

In the reflection, Andy was just behind her and off to the side a little. Still trying to catch his breath.

Mrs. Youngman plucked down the handset and frowned at it.

Jodie saw that it had an antenna and no cord.

"Do you know how to work it?" Andy asked.

"Certainly."

"It's a remote phone," he said.

"I know, I know." Mrs. Youngman sounded peeved.

"You've gotta flip that little switch up near the top. Push it all the way over to where it says talk."

"Which switch?"