The sky was almost lightless now. She could barely see her hand in front of her face. She let her eyes slide closed, draping the stars. In the grass around her, the cicadas sang a rhythmical lullaby.
Suddenly, somewhere not very far off, there rose an unholy din; part howl, part yelp, part laughter. Her eyes sprang open. The hairs at her nape stood on end. Was this a farewell performance by the Canyon? One last attempt to squeeze her wits dry?
No; no. This wasn’t for her benefit. It was too far away. Up at the house. Yes, that was it; somebody up at the house was having one hell of a party.
Curiosity got the better of her fatigue. Tammy pushed herself up onto her knees, and attempted to figure out where the cacophony was coming from. There was light visible between the trees; flickering, but not flames. This was too cold a light to be fire.
Perhaps this wasn’t a party after all. The din was as nasty as it was raucous. Who the hell could be making such a noise? The freaks perhaps? It seemed the likeliest source. She pictured them laying siege to the house. Oh God in Heaven, suppose they’d gone after Todd? Sniffed him out in his weakened state, and attacked him?
The thought of harm coming to him was unbearable, even now. It forced her to get up off the ground, something she couldn’t have done on her own behalf. For a few seconds she stood with legs wide planted, uncertain whether she was going to fall down again. Then, she told herself to move, and much to her surprise her body obeyed the instruction. Her legs felt like lead and her head as light as a helium balloon, but she managed to stagger five or six steps without falling down.
The noise from the house had subsided somewhat, but the lights were still visible between the trees. She paused for a moment to catch her breath, and while she did so she studied the lights, trying to make sense of them. Was it possible what she was seeing were people? Yes it was. Several of the figures had slipped away from the immediate vicinity of the house, and were coming closer to her. Some were zigzagging through the trees, as though they were engaged in a game of some kind. What sort of creatures were these, she wondered, that capered like children playing, but had such luminescence about them?
She stumbled on another two or three steps, but her body wasn’t going to carry her much further, she knew. It was only a matter of time before she fell down again; and next time she knew she wouldn’t have the strength to pick herself up.
Then, very close by, she heard the sound of something moving through the thicket. She looked in the direction of the sound. An animal perhaps? A coyote, or —
“Tammy?”
She held her breath, not quite daring to believe that she recognized the voice.
“It’s Willem,” he said.
Her legs almost gave out from sheer gratitude. He came out of the bushes and caught hold of her before she fell.
“I’m heavy,” she warned him.
“I’m strong,” he said.
So she let him take her weight, sinking against his chest. As she relinquished herself to him she heard a little girl somewhere nearby, sobbing pitifully. She was about to ask who the hell it was making such a noise when she realized it was her own voice.
“It’s all right,” Zeffer said. “I’m here now. Everything’s going to be fine.”
She wasn’t sure that she believed him; it sounded like a bad piece of dialogue to her. But this was no time to be judgmental. He’d come to look for her, and she was grateful. She put her head on his chest, like a B-movie heroine snatched from the jaws of death, and laughing, then sobbing, then laughing again, let him put his arms around her, and rock her awhile.
SEVEN
Finally, it had not been Todd who’d lost control, but her other lover.
“I can’t … hold back … much longer,” he said.
The girl was beyond giving even the most rudimentary instructions: she lay in a daze of pleasure, her legs hoisted up by Todd so that he could see the wonderful machinery of their interconnected anatomies.