“It’s not just Carol we’ve got to worry about,” Grace said. “It’s both of them.”
“Both? The girl, you mean? But I think the girl’s the one who’s going to—”
“Yes,” Grace said. “She’s going to try to kill Carol. But she might be the one who ends up dead. Like before.”
She got in the car and pulled the door shut.
“Like before?” Paul said. “I don’t—” He saw her blood-crusted hand. “That needs medical attention.”
“There’s no time.”
“What the hell’s happening?” he demanded, his fear for Carol briefly giving way to frustration. “I know something strange is going on, but I don’t know what in Christ’s name it is.”
“I do,” she said. “I know. In fact I know a lot more than maybe I want to know.”
“If you’ve got anything that makes sense, anything concrete,” he said, “we should call the cops. They can put in a call to the sheriff’s department up there and get help sent out to the cabin real fast, faster than we can get there.”
“What I’ve got, my information, is harder than concrete, so far as I’m concerned,” Grace said. “But the police wouldn’t see it the same way I do. They’d say I was just a senile old fool. They’d want to lock me up in a nice safe place for my own good. At best, they’d laugh at me.”
He thought about the poltergeist—the sound of the ax, the splintering door, the airborne ceramic figurines, the toppling chairs—and he said, “Yeah. I know exactly what you mean.”
“We’ll have to handle this ourselves,” Grace said. “Let’s get rolling. I can tell you everything I know on the way. Each minute we waste, I just get sicker and sicker, thinking about what might be happening in the mountains.”
Paul backed the car into the street and drove away from the house, heading for the nearest freeway entrance. When he was on the open highway, he floored the accelerator, and the car rocketed ahead.
“How long does it usually take to get there?” Grace asked.
“About two hours and fifteen minutes.”
“Too long.”
“We’ll do better than that.”
The speedometer needle touched eighty.
12
THEY had brought a lot of food in cardboard cartons and ice chests. They transferred all of those items to the cupboards and refrigerator, agreeing to forgo lunch altogether in order to indulge themselves guiltlessly in a glutton’s dinner.
“All right,” Carol said, producing a list from one of the kitchen drawers, “here’s what we need to do to make this place livable.” She read from the list:
“Remove plastic dropcloths from furniture; dust everything; scrub the kitchen sink; clean the bathroom; and put sheets and blankets on the beds.”
“You call this a vacation?” Jane asked.
“What’s wrong? Doesn’t that sound like a fun agenda to you?”
“Thrilling.”
“Well, the cabin’s not enormous. The two of us will go through the list of chores in an hour or an hour and a half.”
They had barely started when they were interrupted by a knock at the door. It was Vince Gervis, the colony’s caretaker. He was a big, barrel-chested man with enormous shoulders, enormous biceps, enormous hands, and a smile to match the rest of him.
“Just makin’ my rounds,” he said. “Saw your car. Thought I’d say hello.” Carol introduced him to Jane and said she was a niece (a convenient white lie), and there was some polite chitchat, and then Gervis said, “Dr. Tracy, where’s the other Dr. Tracy? I’d like to give him my best, too.”
“Oh, he isn’t with us right now,” Carol said. “He’s coming up on Sunday, after he finishes some important work he couldn’t just put aside.”
Gervis frowned.
Carol said, “Is something wrong?”
“Well… me and the missus was plannin’ to go into town to do some shoppin’, maybe see a movie, eat a restaurant meal. It’s what we generally do on Friday afternoons, you see. But there isn’t another soul up here besides you and Jane. Will be tomorrow, bein’ as it’s a Saturday, and seem’ as if the weather don’t get too bad so that everybody stays to home. But there’s no one else so far today except you.”