They Thirst by Robert McCammon

Author:Robert McCammon [McCammon, Robert R.]
Format: epub
Tags: General, Fiction, Juvenile Fiction, General & Literary Fiction, Vampires, Horror, Modern fiction, Horror & ghost stories, Horror - General, Fiction - Horror, Modern & contemporary fiction (post c 1945), Horror tales, Los Angeles (Calif.)
ISBN: 9780671735630
Publisher: Pocket
Published: 1988-06-14T23:00:00+00:00

MASTER!

THEY'RE GOING TO TRY TO MAKE ME TELL!)

"Do you remember Dr. Carl Friedman, Benefield?" the black man asked. "He was the State Mental Health Board psychologist assigned to your case after your molestation sentence was suspended. We've been in contact with him. Shall I tell you what he says about you?"

"Lies," Roach said. "Everybody lies about me."

"He says you're what's called a paranoid-schizophrenic," the black man said., J!

"That things get mixed up in your head sometimes and you lose track of past events. He says you complain of severe headaches and you have abrupt mood changes. Dr. Friedman says you show hostility to women. Are those lies, Benefield?"

"I'll ask you again. What were you going to do to Vicki Harris?" Roach trembled and whispered, "He . . . doesn't want me to tell . . .He" Who are you talking about?"

"The Master." There were beads of sweat on his face. "He says I'm not supposed to-"

Prince Vulkan broke mental contact with Roach and looked over at PaigeJ

LaSanda.

Her spoon was scraping the bottom of the silver bowl; her chin dripped with beef gyulash, and it had splattered down onto her dress. The woman's eyes were glazed, brimming with tears and totally insane.

"That's enough," Vulkan barked. Immediately Paige's hand opened, and the spoon clattered to the floor. He turned his gaze away from her, looking inward again.

He wasn't certain how strong Roach's will was and how long the man could bear this sort of questioning. The night before, Vulkan had made the castle tremble with his screams of rage when he'd realized Roach had been caught. The man was bringing his offering-and Vulkan's food-up the mountain. But Roach was a loyal servant and could be put to future use, so now he had to be saved from the den of the enemy. Vulkan put a hand to his left temple and looked deep into the night, concentrating on what he wanted done. His dark essence, like a formless shadow, left his body and traveled upward, squeezing through a chink in the wall and moving outward; it was something the Headmaster had taught him to do. All of the city gleamed underneath. In just a moment he could see the bats spinning in the black sky like a mad whirlwind, hundreds of them flying from their caves in the San Gabriel and Santa Monica mountains, gathering directly above Parker Center in downtown Los Angeles. They churned there, a squeaking cyclone of wings, awaiting his next command. When the sky was filled with them, he watched in his mind . . .

.. . the bats dropping lower, still spinning in a huge circle, hovering like a black noose around the gray-green building. They began to split formation and fly into the walls and windows. Those that didn't smash themselves to death flew a distance away and then came back to strike again ... Vulkan shifted focus, linked with Roach again and saw . . . the black detective looked up suddenly from the folder. He glanced at Farris, his brow creasing.

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