The Complete Short Fiction of Charles L. Grant Volume 1 by Charles L. Grant

Author:Charles L. Grant
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: short stories, ghost stories, horror stories, novellas
Publisher: Bob Booth

How fast she moves, I thought as I stumbled back through the house: from the park to Paul’s and now here to Sandy’s. How fast she moves when she doesn’t have a car. I had better tell Grace about how fast she moves. Suppose she wants to come to the roadhouse again? I won’t have to give her a lift, of course. She moves fast. Without a car. She must carry the child under her arms, unless the child runs with her, so terribly fast that no one can see them, thinks they’re nothing but the breath of a wind.

I sat behind the wheel listening to my mind babbling, waiting for it to catch up with the reality of what I’d seen. It was as though there were two people in the car: one was drooling slightly from the comer of his mouth, trying to force away the image of a man not burned but seared to death, trying not to imagine the way the lightning crept through the house to strike Marie in her bed and the boy in his chair, trying not to imagine what Sandy had said to Elizabeth and the child that made Elizabeth strike out with such indiscriminate fury; and the other, a saner, more rational creature not quite a man, waiting, just waiting, as though he had run a mile ahead and was resting while the rest of the pack caught up with his distance. Waiting. Just waiting.

Then I heard a clicking. Rhythmic, pulsing, filling the car until the storm was blotted out. I looked down and to my right, and saw that I had taken out the gun and was pulling the trigger. Again, and again, and again, and again, until I could feel the cramp begin to pull in my hand. It took most of my strength to pry the gun loose, and more to grab hold of the steering wheel once the engine had started.

It occurred to me then that I ought to call Harry Jackson, to warn him away from Elizabeth before she gave him a flower. But the only thing that was working for me was the part of my mind that told me to go home. The thought about Jackson vanished, and I pulled away from the curb.

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