by Rick Hautala
Dazed with pain, Polly turned and looked upward, aware only of the swelling darkness that seemed to be pulsating all around her as she began to drift away, high above the panic and pain. She wasn’t feeling anything whatsoever when the beast grabbed her by the neck and straightened up with her limp body nestled under one arm. After positioning her head in the crook of its elbow, it twisted her head sharply to one side. She heard a sharp crack as her neck snapped. With one last, bubbly gasp in her throat, Polly died.
The creature grunted with satisfaction as it looked down at the dead woman. It was just shifting her body around so it could rip her belly open and feast on her entrails when the back-door window exploded as three shots rang out in rapid succession. The creature’s face instantly dissolved into a bloody splash as bullets ripped through its head, blasting fur and fragments of skull against the kitchen wall. The creature staggered backward, clawing futilely at its ruined face, but it never made another sound before it dropped to the floor, twitched for a second, and then lay still.
Guy LaBrea kicked the door open, pushing Polly’s broken body aside as he stared at the bloody havoc. He’d seen a lot in the line of duty, but never anything like this. His stomach did a quick flip. He turned and dropped to his knees on the back doorstep and vomited. After the initial rush of nausea had subsided, he stood up, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and went back to the cruiser, which was parked at the foot of the driveway. He kept his service revolver cocked and ready as he sat down behind the steering wheel and thumbed the radio microphone button to call the station.
“This is LaBrea,” he said in a ragged gasp. He couldn’t stop his hands from shaking as he waited for the dispatcher to acknowledge his call.
“Roger, Chief. This is Elliott. What’s up?”
“I was—”
He had to take a deep breath before he could continue.
“I was on my way to the Newmans’ house when your call came in. I—umm, I’ll be needing some backup out here right away. Also I’m gonna need the coroner and an ambulance pronto.”
“What happened?”
For a moment, LaBrea considered telling him, but then he smiled grimly, shook his head, and simply said, “I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you right now.” He took another deep breath and let it out in a shuddering rush. “Let’s just say it’s all over for now, okay?”
“Sure thing, Chief.”
“Over and out,” LaBrea said.
Sighing heavily, he eased back in the car seat and shook his head, desperately wishing that he could erase the memory of the bloody mayhem he had glimpsed inside the Newman house. He knew that eventually he was going to have to face it again, but he had decided to wait right here in the cruiser until more policemen showed up. Right now, there was no way he could deal with what he had seen—Polly Newman’s severed head, lying on the tiled floor. Her eyes had been wide open and staring up at him, and he wished to God he wasn’t positive he had seen her eyes blink . . . just once.
“Yeah—” he said in a trembling whisper as he hung up the radio microphone, leaned his head back against the car seat, and rubbed his eyes.
“Let’s just hope to hell it’s all over!”
The End
About the Author
Rick Hautala has published more than twenty books, including the million-copy plus, international bestseller Nightstone, as well as Twilight Time, Little Brothers, Cold Whisper, Winter Wake, Impulse, Poltergeist: The Legacy—The Hidden Saint, and a short story collection, Bedbugs. With William Relling, he has co-written five screenplays, both originals and adaptations.
Born and raised in Rockport, Mass., Rick received his B.A. and MA. in English literature from the University of Maine, Orono. He is married and lives in southern Maine with his wife and two sons, Jesse (soon to be a student at Clark University) and Matti (a freshman at Westbrook High School). His oldest son, Aaron, is on his own, working with the progressive rock band Satellite Lot. Rick has been a full-time writer for nearly twenty years.
Cemetery Dance Publications
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Quote
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
About the Author
Cemetery Dance Publications
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Quote
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
About the Author
Cemetery Dance Publications