Stark slammed the medicine cabinet shut and jerked open the drawer to the right of the washstand. He found a roll of Red Cross adhesive tape and popped the tin ring off the doughnut. She heard nothing and said so.
'That's okay,' he said. 'I can hear it for both of us. Hands behind you.'
'What are you going to - ?'
'Shut up and put your hands behind you!'
She did, and immediately her wrists were bound. He crisscrossed the tape, back and forth, back and forth, in tight figure-eights.
'Engine just quit,' he said. 'Maybe a quarter of a mile up the road. Someone trying to be cute.'.She thought she might have heard an engine in the last moment, but it could have been nothing but suggestion. She knew she would have heard nothing at all, if she had not been listening with all of her concentration. Dear God, how sharp were his ears?
'Gotta cut this tape,' he said. 'Pardon me gettin personal for a second or so, Beth. Time's a little short for politeness.'
And before she even knew he was doing it, he had reached down the front of her skirt. A moment later, he pulled the sewing scissors free. He didn't even prick her skin with the pins. He glanced in her eyes for just a moment as he reached behind her and used the scissors to cut the tape. He seemed amused again.
'You saw them,' she said dully. 'You saw the bulge after all.'
'The scissors?' He laughed. 'I saw them, but not the bulge. I saw them in your eyes, darlin Bethie. I saw them back in Ludlow. I knew they were there the minute you came downstairs.'
He knelt in front of her with the tape, absurdly - and ominously - like a suitor proposing marriage. Then he looked up at her. 'Don't you get ideas about kicking me or anything, Beth. I don't know for sure, but I think that's a cop. And I don't have time to play fiddlyfuck with you, much as I'd like to. So be still.'
'The babies - '
'I'm gonna close the doors,' Stark said. 'They're not tall enough to reach the knobs even when they get up on their feet. They may eat a few dust-kitties under the bed, but I think that's the worst trouble they can get into. I'll be back very shortly.'
Now the tape was winding figure-eights around her ankles. He cut it and stood up again.
'You be good, Beth,' he said. 'Don't go losing your happy thoughts. I'd make you pay for a thing like that . . . but I'd make you watch them pay, first.'
Then he closed the bathroom door, the bedroom door, and was gone. He absented himself with the speed of a good magician doing a trick.
She thought of the .22 locked in the equipment shed. Were there bullets in there, too? She was pretty sure there were. Half a box of Winchester .22 Long Rifles on a high shelf. Liz began to twist her wrists back and forth. He had interwoven the tape very cunningly, and for awhile she wasn't sure she was going to be able to even loosen it, let alone work her hands free of it.
Then she started to feel a little give, and began to work her wrists back and forth faster, panting. William crawled over, placed his hands on her leg, and looked questioningly into her face.
'Everything's going to be fine,' she said, and smiled at him. Will smiled back and crawled away in search of his sister. Liz tossed a sweaty lock of hair out of her eyes with a brisk shake of her head and returned to rotating her wrists back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
3
So far as Alan Pangborn could tell, Lake Lane was entirely deserted . . . at least, it was entirely deserted as far as he dared to drive in. That was the sixth driveway along the road. He believed he could have driven at least a little farther in safety - there was no way the sound of his car's engine could be heard at the Beaumont place from this distance, not with two hills in between - but it was better to be safe. He drove down to the A-frame cottage which belonged to the Williams.family, summer residents from Lynn, Massachusetts, parked on a carpet of needles under a hoary
old pine, killed the engine and got out.
He looked up and saw the sparrows.
They were sitting on the roofpeak of the Williams house. They were sitting on the high branches of the trees that surrounded it. They perched on rocks down by the lakeshore; they jostled for place on the Williamses' dock - so many of them he couldn't see the wood. There were hundreds and hundreds of them.
And they were utterly silent, only looking at him with their tiny black eyes.
'Jesus,' he whispered.
There were crickets singing in the high grass which grew along the foundations of the Williams house, and the soft lap of the lake against the permanent part of their dock, and a plane droning its way west, toward New Hampshire. Otherwise, everything was silent. There was not even the harsh buzz of a single outboard motor on the lake.
Only those birds.
All those birds.
Alan felt a deep, glassy fright creeping along his bones. He had seen sparrows flock together in the spring or the fall, sometimes a hundred or two hundred at once, but he had never in his life seen anything like this.
Have they come for Thad . . . or for Stark?