‘Vein?’ Dana called. ‘What’s going on?’
‘She stabbed Owen.’
‘Who stabbed him?’
‘Monica.’
Darke met Dana’s eyes. Unable to talk because of the knife in her mouth, she nodded her head up and down.
‘I did not,’ Monica protested. ‘They’re lying bitches. She stabbed him. She was jealous!’
‘He’s hurt pretty badly,’ Vein explained. ‘We need to get him to a hospital.’
Tuck jumped down from the trunk. ‘Whatever the hell Clyde did upstairs – other than locking us in – I’m damn sure he didn’t call for an ambulance or cops. If we can’t bust the door open, we’d better . . .’
Tuck’s voice stopped.
Heads turned.
From somewhere down the Kutch tunnel came a chain of gunfire. Muffled and far away, the shots crashed together so fast they almost sounded like heavy cloth or canvas being ripped down the middle.
‘Holy shit,’ Tuck said.
‘What is that?’ Dana asked.
Bixby, eyes wide behind his glasses, said, ‘Machine gun.’
‘That can’t be good,’ Tuck muttered.
The weapon went silent.
‘Could Eve’s gun sound like that?’ Dana asked.
Bixby shook his head. ‘If you mean the nude lady with the pistol, I’m afraid not.’
Tuck stared at the entrance to the Kutch tunnel. ‘Eve’ll be okay,’ she said. ‘Nothing can stop her.’
Suddenly leaping away from her injured husband, Eleanor blurted, ‘We’ve gotta get out of here!’ and raced up the stairs.
‘Can’t get out that way,’ Tuck called to her. ‘The door’s locked.’
‘Maybe we should go see what happened with Eve,’ Dana suggested.
‘Where’d everybody else go?’ Tuck asked.
‘I don’t know.’
‘They went chasing after Eve,’ Bixby explained. ‘Oh, perhaps half a dozen of them. Including those teenagers.’
From the direction of the Kutch tunnel came a single, quick bam!
A smile spread across Tuck’s face. ‘That was Eve’s gun,’ she said.
They listened for more shots.
And heard a low grumbling noise that sounded very much like the growl of a vicious dog. But it didn’t seem to be coming from the Kutch tunnel.
It came from somewhere in the cellar.
Dana twisted around.
Out of the hole in the floor protruded a hairless, snouted head. It swung from side to side, pale blue eyes darting about.
Tuck yelled, ‘SHIT!’
This can’t be happening, Dana thought. Clyde was the beast.
Who’s THIS?
The shiny white mouth writhed as it bared its teeth.
And Dana knew this wasn’t anyone in a beast suit.
She felt herself shrivel inside.
This had to be the creature that savaged Warren, that snatched Eve and ripped and fucked her and left her handcuffed in its lair – that devoured those other two poor people.
No. Eve’s beast was Clyde. It had to be. The cigarette stink, the keys . . .
As if it were in no hurry at all, the creature began to climb out of the hole.
‘What’s going on down there?’ Eleanor called from the stairway.
‘We’ve got a beast,’ Tuck said. She sounded strangely calm.
‘I say,’ Bixby muttered.
‘A what?’ asked Eleanor.
In a loud, firm voice, Tuck said, ‘Time to scram, everyone! Go for the Kutch tunnel! Run like hell!’
Bixby twisted around and raced for the Kutch tunnel.
Eleanor came rushing down the stairs, tennis skirt flouncing around her thighs.
Darke let the knife fall from her mouth. ‘I can’t leave Owen.’
‘Stay put,’ Vein said. ‘You, too,’ she told Monica as she climbed off. Knife in hand, she turned toward the rising beast.
Suddenly free, Monica scurried up and dashed for the Kutch tunnel.
Vein whirled, flipped her knife and caught it by the blade, then cocked back her arm to throw it.
‘No!’ Darke yelled. ‘Don’t! You’ll lose your knife!’
Vein lowered her arm.
Monica sprinted into the tunnel, Eleanor racing in close behind her.
The beast now stood on the cellar floor in front of the hole, flexing its claw-tipped fingers as its head turned slowly. It seemed to be studying each of the four women. Its growl sounded like a loud, rumbling purr.
Clyde’s suit had been a good replica.
But this was no costume; this was skin. Snow-white skin that rippled with muscles, that gleamed with a sheen of slime. The teeth of this creature were yellow. The mouth drooled.
Unlike Clyde’s suit, it had no permanent erection.
The erection grew as the creature stood there, eyeing the women.
Grew longer and longer, thickening and rising.
It had the mouth, all right.
The shaft pointed at Tuck. The mouth bared its teeth and flicked its forked tongue at her.
‘Oh, shit,’ Tuck murmured.
Dana glanced over at Vein and Darke. ‘Get the hell out of here, gals. Carry Owen with you. Or drag him. Just get out of here. Now!’
‘Go with ’em,’ Tuck said.
‘Me?’ Dana asked. ‘No way.’
‘I’ll keep the thing busy.’
‘Bullshit. You go.’
‘Not me.’
‘Not me, either,’ Vein said. ‘Three of us, one of it.’
‘Four of us,’ Darke said. She patted Owen’s rump, picked up the folding knife, then stood up.
Roaring, the beast suddenly launched itself at Tuck. She held her ground and drew back a fist.
Dana lurched in from the side, swinging her flashlight like a small club. The head of the flashlight bounced off the creature’s brow.
Snarling, the beast whirled toward Dana. A paw swept by, knocking the flashlight from her hand. As she backstepped to get away, the thing came at her.
Tuck leaped at it.
A powerful arm bashed Tuck across the chest. She seemed to explode off her feet.
As she soared across the cellar, the beast clutched Dana’s shoulders. Claws digging in, it thrust her backward and down. She slammed against the cellar floor. Straddling her, it ripped at her clothes. She punched at it, but her blows seemed to have no effect. Quick claws scratched and furrowed her skin as they tore off her shirt and bra and stripped off her shorts in a matter of seconds.
She glimpsed a blur of motion from her left as someone dived onto the beast.
The running dive snagged it off her.
She rolled onto her side and saw Darke on the floor under the back of the beast, right arm across its throat, left arm across its chest. In her left hand was the pocket knife. She raised the knife and brought it down hard.
Striking the chest of the beast, the short blade folded in and clamped shut on Darke’s hand. She squealed in pain, but kept her left arm across the throat of the beast and wrapped her leather-clad legs around its thighs.
It thrashed on top of her, its erection thrusting at the air, mouth snapping.
As Dana struggled to get up, Vein rushed in and dropped to her knees at the heads of Darke and the beast. She raised her knife high, clutching it with both hands. No little pocket knife that might fold on her, this was a dagger with a rigid, eight inch blade. She plunged it down toward the chest of the beast.
The creature slapped it from her hands.
The knife flew at Dana. Before she could move, an inch of its blade entered her just above her left breast.
The creature’s next blow ripped off half of Vein’s face and knocked her head sideways. Face flapping like a bloody rag, she was suddenly looking behind her back. She tumbled toward the cellar floor.
Dana grabbed the knife and pulled it out of herself.
She stumbled to her feet.
‘Hurry!’ Darke gasped from beneath the beast.
<
br /> Knife raised overhead, Dana dived between its legs. She expected to land on its penis, but she’d thought it would give way under her weight.
It didn’t.
Rigid as a tent pole, it pounded her in the belly and punched her breath out. Folding over it, she tried to drive her knife down into the beast’s chest.
Both her wrists were suddenly grabbed.
Instead of mauling her, the beast pulled her arms straight out past its head, stretching her as all of her weight bore down on the stiff, upright shaft.
Though Darke still had an arm across the beast’s throat, the thing started to make a hissing sound that seemed like laughter.
The mouth that was shoved so hard against Dana’s belly suddenly bit her.
Crying out with pain and horror, she bucked fiercely and flung herself aside.
She fell to the cellar floor, but the beast stayed with her, gripping her wrists. They rolled, and suddenly it was on top of her, Darke somehow still clinging to its back. Seemingly unconcerned by Darke, the beast planted its mouth on Dana’s mouth, forced her lips open and thrust its tongue in.
The other mouth no longer bit her belly.
It had moved lower.
Now, she felt it between her legs.
Licking, nibbling.
No! she cried out inside her head.
She chomped down hard on the beast’s tongue, but her teeth wouldn’t sink in. The tongue was too solid.
Dana suddenly heard a crashing sound – like someone smashing through a door.
The beast jerked its tongue from her mouth and turned its head.
Footfalls began thudding down the wooden stairs.
‘What’s going on?’
It was a man’s voice.
Warren’s voice.
‘Help us!’ Darke yelled.
‘Oh, my God!’ Warren blurted.
With a roar, the beast sprang off Dana. As it scurried over her body, she reached up with her left hand and caught hold. The shaft was slippery, but she held on tight.
The beast didn’t stop, didn’t seem to care.
Darke on its back, Dana dragging beneath it, the creature scampered across the cellar floor, roaring, apparently eager to pounce on Warren.
As Dana was dragged between its legs, she pulled at the slippery rod with all the strength in the left arm, raising her head and back out of the cellar dirt, pulling herself higher, higher.
Then she plunged the knife into the creature’s belly and ripped downward.
His front opened like a shiny white bag, spilling blood and intestines onto Dana’s face.
A woman cried out ‘NO!’
The beast bellowed in agony.
As it fell headlong, Dana let go and dropped against the cool dirt.
‘Oh, God, no!’
Eve?
Rolling onto her side, Dana wiped some of the mess away from her face and saw Eve rushing forward, naked, a tommy gun in her hands.
Ignoring all else, Eve ran toward the beast.
It was sprawled on the floor, head against the bottom stair. Darke was climbing off its back while Warren stood on the forth stair, his mouth hanging open as he gaped at the carnage.
Eve, sobbing, squatted next to the creature. She set her tommy gun aside, then reached down with both hands, clutched the beast by one shoulder and turned it over.
It flopped onto its back.
Eve hunched over it, weeping as she caressed its hideous face.
‘Eve?’ Dana said. ‘What’s wrong?’
One of the sobs suddenly sounded like, ‘Huh?’
Eve’s back straightened.
‘What’s wrong?’ Dana asked again.
‘Nothing.’ Eve looked at her with wet red eyes, wiped tears away, and gave her a trembling smile. ‘Nothing’s wrong,’ she said. ‘I’m fine.’ She gave the beast’s face a rough smack with her open hand, then picked up the tommy gun and got to her feet. ‘I guess somebody’d better find a telephone.’
Chapter Sixty-One
Sunday Morning
1. Tuck’s Long-Distance Call
‘Sorry to disturb you, Janice, but I’m afraid we had some trouble last night on the Midnight Tour.’
2. Visiting Hour – Owen
Waking up in a hospital room, Owen found Darke sitting beside his bed. ‘Hi,’ he said.
She smiled softly at him.
Her clingy, black silk blouse was gone, replaced by a black T-shirt that seemed to be few sizes too small for her. Seeing her in the T-shirt, nobody would mistake her for a guy.
Owen looked at her bandaged hand.
‘What happened?’ he asked.
‘Monica stabbed you.’
‘Oh . . . I know that. What happened to you?’
‘Just a minor cut. I’m fine.’ Tears suddenly glistened in her eyes. ‘Vein didn’t make it, though.’
‘Monica stabbed Vein?’
‘The beast killed her.’
‘Oh, my God.’
‘She . . . always hoped they were real. Always wanted to meet one face to face. They say you’ve gotta be careful what you wish for.’
Groggy and confused, Owen shook his head. ‘I don’t . . . How was she killed?’
‘We took on the beast. The four of us. Lynn, Dana, me and Vein. And we killed it, too.’
‘You mean Clyde? You killed Clyde?’
She shook her head, her pale hair swaying across her brow. ‘You really were out of it. After Clyde, a real beast came along. That’s how Monica got away from us. We couldn’t keep her prisoner and fight the beast, so we let her go. She ran off through the Kutch tunnel and that’s the last anyone’s seen of her.’
3. Tuck’s Long Distance-Call – Part II
‘We think Clyde didn’t call the police – he called Agnes, instead. So then she came to his rescue with a tommy gun.’
4. Visiting Hour – Sandy
‘Okay, honey, quit beating around the bush and tell me who did it.’
‘I’m not your honey, Cochran.’
‘Oh, excuse meeee, Officer Chaney.’
‘I’ll get out of bed and wreck you.’
Flushing, Cochran said, ‘I’m simply trying to determine the truth.’
‘The truth is . . . I’m pretty sure it was both of them. Clyde and the beast.’
‘Which of them abducted you in the attic?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Which one dragged you into the tunnel?’
‘I’m not sure, but Clyde must’ve been the one who unlocked it.’
‘Which one handcuffed you?’
‘That must’ve been Clyde, too.’
‘Which one was responsible for your injuries?’
‘I smelled the cigarette smoke, but . . . not always. I think it was probably both of them.’
‘Taking turns?’
‘Something like that. Maybe.’
‘Who ate those people?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Either of ’em eat you?’
‘Watch it.’
‘And which of them do you think committed the sexual assaults on you?’
Eve studied Cochran, her eyes narrow. Finally, she answered, ‘Both.’
‘Which did you prefer?’
She leaped out of bed. Cochran made it halfway across the hospital room before she got close enough to shove him. Stumbling out of control, he almost made it through the doorway. But his right shoulder collided with the frame and he cried out in pain.
As he flopped on the floor, Sandy called out, ‘Is there a doctor in the house?’
5. Tuck’s Long-Distance Call – Part III
‘Well, we think Clyde must’ve been having a relationship with Agnes . . . No, I’m not kidding. Just before she opened fire, she yelled out for him to hit the deck. And Eve said she called him “honey” or “darling” or something like that. Sounds like they were lovers . . . I know, I know . . . Well, she was filthy rich. Maybe Clyde was hoping for a big inheritance. Or maybe he was just really into this
whole beast thing. If you ask me, Clyde and the beast and Agnes were probably having a menagerie à trois . . . No, not ménage, menagerie . . . Well, I don’t find it that amusing, either. I know a lot of people were killed.’
6. Visiting Hour – Owen, Part II
‘What’re you going to do now?’ Owen asked.
Beneath her tight T-shirt, Darke shrugged her shoulders. ‘I guess I’ll stay right here till they kick me out.’
‘What then?’
‘Hang around town, I guess, and wait for them to release you. They say it’ll probably be a few more days.’
She’s going to wait for me!
‘Do you have a place to stay?’ Owen asked.
‘Lynn said I can stay at her house.’
Owen remembered hiding in the bushes with John . . . spying on the three women . . . and he remembered the third spy, the one they’d heard but never seen.
What happened to John? Is he still hanging around near the house, or . . .?
‘I’ve got a room at the Welcome Inn,’ Owen said. ‘That’s where my stuff is. And my rental car. If you’d rather stay there, I could call and . . . you know, extend my stay.’
‘I have a better idea,’ Darke said. ‘If you’d like, I’ll go to the room and pick up your things. I can take them with me over to Lynn’s. That way, you won’t have to pay for all those nights at the motel.’
‘Well . . . I’m just not sure you should stay at Lynn’s house.’
‘Why not?’
He couldn’t tell her about the mysterious prowler hiding in the bushes.
‘Maybe it isn’t safe,’ he said.
‘It’ll be fine. Dana’ll be there, too. I think the three of us can handle just about anything. I mean, we killed the beast, didn’t we? With a little help from Vein,’ she added, and tears again filled her eyes.
7. Tuck’s Long-Distance Call – Part IV
‘Well, Warren was hanging around outside. You know how he wouldn’t set foot in Beast House because of getting jumped that time? Speaking of which, I hear it wasn’t teenagers. Thanks for the honesty, Janice . . . Oh, little birdies . . . You should be . . . Oh, because he was waiting for the tour to end. He and Dana happen to be madly in love. They can’t stand to be apart.’
The Complete Beast House Chronicles Page 107
