by Jeff Sutton
Faust? He drew the name out tentatively. Although Faust used The Strangler to dispose of sick and wounded animals, he knew of no other relationship between the two. Neither did the brutish strong man strike Jedro as one whom Faust would choose as a friend or confidant. The carnival owner more likely would have delegated the job to The Tattooed Man. While Faust could be behind the attempt, Jedro had no proof that the other was even aware of the stone.
Where did that leave him? If The Strangler knew of the stone, as apparently he did, Barracuda and The Human Pincushion also knew of it, or soon would. The knowledge was getting around.
If The Tattooed Man didn't already know, it couldn't be kept from him long. It would be but a simple step for him to deduce how the stone had gotten into Jedro's possession. The implications brought a quiet desperation. Having The Strangler after him was bad enough, but if he had to contend with The Tattooed Man...He closed his mind to the thought.
He had to leave the carnival!
The realization came with a dull finality. But he had no alternative not with The Strangler after him. If he left now, he could use the storm to cover his tracks. He looked worriedly outside. The rain was slackening and here and there the camp was stirring with life. Huddled under a tarp, Twisto, The
Contortionist, was hurrying toward the mess tent.
A sadness gripped him. Life would be empty without the lion tamer and Corky and Granny. And Kathy. He'd never known that a person could have so many friends.
Changing swiftly into dry clothes, he tried not to think of it. But Page 54
it was true; the carnival would go on without him. In the long weeks and months to come he wouldn't be there to watch Jason and Millie Hart put the graceful cats through their paces, or watch the sad-faced Corky draw the plaudits of the crowds as he bumbled from one disaster to another in his attempts to emulate the trick riders and tightrope walkers. He wouldn't sit with Granny, munching roasted almonds while she told strange stories of spooks and poltergeists, of dead people who, reincarnated, once again roamed the land. Neither would he creep into the big tent in the dawn's half-light to scratch Taber and Rana behind the ears and listen to their contented purrs.
Worse, he wouldn't be with the carnival when, one day, it returned to Earth.
(Yet somehow he would get to Earth; Mr. Clement had promised that.) But most of all he would miss Kathy. The two had built a bridge of understanding which, while seldom put into words, formed a strong bond between them. Not that he would lose her forever, he vowed. He'd come back! Someday, when he was free of the threat -- when the stone was safe! -- he would find her again. Someday. The word held a hollow ring.
He had to say good-bye. He scanned the area. The rain was falling again.
Hot Mouth and The Tallest Midget in the Universe were hurrying toward the sawdust street, where several roustabouts were repairing wind damage. He saw no sign of The Strangler.
Scrambling down from the wagon, he hurried toward
The Snake Woman's booth. The realization that he would be saying farewell made his heart ache.
The Snake Woman answered his knock.
"What brings you so early?" she asked. She looked past his shoulder at the main. "Come in before you're soaked."
"I'd like to see Kathy," he explained, following her inside.
"Kathy!" Wanda raised her voice. The girl came from the next room.
"Hello, Jedro." Her smile failed to conceal her curiosity.
"I, uh, just wanted to talk to you." He looked desperately at The Snake Woman. "I've only got a moment."
"I'll run along to breakfast," she answered.
When she left, Kathy asked nervously, "What is it, Jedro?"
"Well..." He grew flustered.
"You're in trouble," she exclaimed.
"I just wanted to say good-bye," he blurted.
"Good-bye?"
"Just for a while," he added hastily.
"What's wrong, Jedro? Tell me."
"I have to get away from here."
Kathy raised her head, her face suddenly calm. "What's the trouble?" she asked quietly.
"The Strangler's after me."
"The Strangler?" she echoed in a small voice.
He returned her gaze wretchedly, wondering how much he could reveal. Any information about the stone could be as dangerous to her as it was to him.
Neither could he mention Mr. Clement, nor could he...
"Tell me," she insisted.
"He's just after me," he mumbled, "and maybe The Tattooed Man is, too."
"Gurdon?" She was startled.
"It's something I know about, and I think he's found out."
"The Strangler or Gurdon?"
"Maybe both."
"What is it, Jedro?"
"It would be dangerous for you to know."
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"I have to know," she answered gravely. "You have to confide in someone, Jedro. You can't just run and run. Sometime you'll have to stop, and when you do, it'll catch up with you."
"I won't keep running," he croaked.
"Let me help you, please."
His gaze wavered before settling decisively on her face. Taking a deep breath, he said, "I saw The Tattooed Man kill someone."
"Murder?" she asked faintly.
"He shot a man."
"Who?"
"I don't know," he answered, thinking it was the truth. He knew almost nothing about Mr.
Clement except his name...and how he had died.
"When was that?" she asked.
"Before I came here."
"Back where you lived?"
"In the Ullan Hills." He nodded.
"How do you know he knows?"
"I'm not certain." He saw her puzzled expression and rushed on. "But I'm positive he does, and I know The Strangler's after me. He almost caught me a while ago."
"The Strangler!" She shuddered.
"He scares me," he admitted.
"Why would he be after you for something Gurdon did? That doesn't make sense." She held his gaze. "Gurdon wouldn't have sent him. He would have gone after you himself."
"Maybe," he answered evasively. He had the frantic feeling of being boxed in.
"He would," she insisted, "but how would he learn about it after all this time?"
"I've wondered that."
"How would he, Jedro?" She eyed him insistently. "I'm not just asking futile questions. If Gurdon had known what you knew when you came here, he would have done something about it then. If he's just learned it, how did he learn it? Someone else must have known. Or perhaps it's not that at all."
"What do you mean?"
"He wouldn't have sent The Strangler, so perhaps he doesn't know.
Perhaps that part's all your imagination. So why was The Strangler after you?
There's some part missing." Her eyes pleaded with him.
"I can't tell you," he muttered.
"Can't or won't?"
"Won't." He stared at her. "It could be dangerous for you to know."
"If you believe so." She tried a plaintive smile.
"I know so," he answered finally.
"I'm just trying to help you, Jedro."
"I know that."
She clasped his hand impulsively. "Where could you go? There's nothing but small towns and villages that are miles and miles apart. What could you do?"
"Herd gran." He smiled crookedly.
"Hide here," she exclaimed. "Wanda won't mind. We have plenty of room and..."
"No," he interrupted firmly. "The Strangler knows we're friends. So does The Tattooed Man and everyone else. That would make it dangerous for you."
"I'm not afraid."
"I am," he declared. "We can't take that chance."
"Have you any money?"
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He shook his head. "The Strangler took it. He wrecked all my things."
"You need money," she cried. Despite his protests she got several bills and thrust them into his hands. "If you need more..."
>
"I won't," he answered quickly. "I'll get a job."
"You'll write?"
"As soon as I get settled," he promised. Gazing at her, he felt a terrible anguish at the possibility he might never see her again. But he would! He would find her somewhere, sometime. He couldn't bear to think otherwise. He said in a choked voice, "I have to go."
"Be careful," she pleaded. She clung to his hand as they moved toward the door. At the entrance he turned, looking down into her face.
"You be careful, too," he said.
"I will." She brushed her eyes and he saw that they were wet. Opening the door, he peered out.
The rain slashed down and a gusty wind ballooned the tents. Thunder rolled across the sky. A good day to run, a good day to hide.
"Good-bye, good-bye." Her words trailed after him. Shielding his face from the rain, he hurried toward the sawdust street. He wished he could say good-bye to the lion tamer and his wife, and to Granny and Corky and Dum-Dum, but he knew that he couldn't. He had to leave as quickly as possible.
He reached the edge of the sawdust street and paused to scan it warily.
With the rain slanting down against the closed shutters and the tarps flapping in the wind, it appeared gloomy and deserted. THE FIRE EATER. THE TWO-HEADED
MAN, THE PIG-FACED BOY -- he scanned the signs longingly. He'd never realized how many good friends he had; but there they were, on the double row of posters. Real people; the carnival was life.
But where was The Strangler?
Prepared to either flee or hide, as the occasion might demand, he pondered the route of safest flight. He'd feel better if he saw The Strangler, knew exactly where he was before rushing blindly from the camp. But he had to beware of more than The Strangler. He couldn't chance being seen by Barracuda, The Human Pincushion, The Tattooed Man, or Faust. All were potentially dangerous.
He should have left the instant he'd seen The Strangler clambering down from his wagon, he thought. Now, despite the rain, the visibility was good.
He'd wasted too much time. Movement in the big tent's entrance caught his eye.
He stiffened as he recognized Faust and The Tattooed Man. Shrinking back between two booths, he watched them nervously. Garbed in a transparent cape, Faust gazed upward into the stormy sky. The Tattooed Man, as usual, wore only a sleeveless shirt open at the throat and an old pair of tan trousers and sandals. The gaudy patterns on his face, neck, and hairless skull, and his brightly striped arms and hands made Jedro shudder.
Faust made a sudden dash toward the mess tent. His tall, thin body bent forward, he leaped awkwardly from side to side as he sought to avoid puddles.
The Tattooed Man loped gracefully behind him, his hideous face held up into the beating rain.
Watching them vanish under cover, Jedro felt an inner tumult
-- he could say good-bye to Taber and Rana.
He eyed the mess tent nervously. Faust and The Tattooed Man should be there for at least half an hour, perhaps longer because of the rain. Scanning the street carefully, he dashed toward the big tent. Entering it, he hurried along the gloomy passageway that led to the main ring. The rain drumming against the overhead tarp filled the air with muted thunder. A single night light shone down on Faust's big red- and white-striped trailer. A dozen paces beyond, he glimpsed the lions restlessly prowling the cage.
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"Hello," called Jedro softly. The lions paused, swinging their big heads around. The tips of their tails switched in quick, spasmodic movements.
Padding forward against the bars, they watched intently as he hurried toward them.
"I've come to say good-bye," murmured Jedro. Reaching through the bars, he scratched Rana behind the ears and ran his fingers through Taber's thick mane. Soft purrs mumbled from their throats. Taber and Rana were as much his friends as were Granny and Corky, or any of the others. Even though they
couldn't talk, he sensed that he knew their thoughts, and that they knew his.
"I'm going to miss you," he whispered. Looking into the large golden eyes, he fancied he saw a deep sorrow. A lump came to his throat; saying good-bye was difficult. Listening to the tarp buffeting in the wind, he felt the poignancy of the days to come. They would be long and lonely; life would be empty.
Taber's head jerked up and a deep growl rumbled from his throat. His tail switched angrily.
Startled, Jedro whirled around.
A half dozen paces behind him, grinning evilly, stood The Strangler.
9
JEDRO FROZE, the fear clutching at his throat. His hands shook violently. The Strangler, his big legs spraddled, held his knotty arms spread to block any attempt at escape. Jedro looked wildly around. Faust's big trailer and the lion cage left him hemmed in a narrow sawdust corridor that was blocked at one end by a pile of ring equipment. Any attempt at flight would be futile. He tried to conceal his fright.
"What do you want?" he croaked.
Obviously enjoying the situation, The Strangler pulled his thick lips into a malevolent smile. His small eyes pinned on Jedro's face, he flexed his huge hands menacingly and took a step forward.
As Jedro shrank back against the edge of the platform, a low growl rumbled from Taber's throat.
"What do you want?" he repeated. His mouth felt cottony.
"You know what I want." The Strangler's voice was unexpectedly soft and deadly. His small eyes narrowed, appearing like pinpoints in his coarse face.
He took another step forward. Jedro instinctively plunged a hand into his pocket and clasped the stone.
"I don't know," he said. His voice held a hoarse, unnatural sound.
"Give me the rock," demanded The Strangler. "I know you got it."
Realizing that talk was useless, Jedro felt a strange calm. He drew the stone from his pocket, exposing it in his palm. "You mean this?"
"Toss it over."
"No." He clenched his fingers around it.
"Give it to me," The Strangler muttered. He started forward.
"Take another step and I'll throw it into the lion cage," threatened Jedro.
"I'll break your arms and legs."
"You still won't get the stone." Seeing the indecision on the performer's face, he sidled backward along the edge of the platform. As The
Strangler started toward him, he raised his arm. "I'll throw it," he cried sharply.
The Strangler halted. Jedro moved backward several more steps, then saw the other hunch his body as if to charge.
"Wait," he exclaimed.
The Strangler hesitated, his face puzzled.
"If I give it to you, will you let me go?" asked Jedro.
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"I'll get it anyway."
"Not if I throw it." He waved his arm threateningly.
"Don't." The Strangler's face took on a crafty look. "Give it to me and I'll let you go," he offered.
"How do I know you will?"
"Think I'd lie?" he asked ominously.
"Why do you want it?" Jedro tried to stall for time.
"None of your business."
"It's not worth anything."
"It's worth plenty," sneered The Strangler.
"Who sent you?"
"None of your business." The Strangler thrust out a hairy hand. "Give it to me," he snarled.
"Don't come any closer," warned Jedro. He threw a quick glance toward the door of the cage, knowing it was locked. Jason Hart always made certain of that. Perhaps if he pretended it was unlocked he could fool The Strangler. He edged toward it.
"Don't think you can run," threatened The Strangler. "Try it and I'll smash your bones."
"I won't run."
"I can't wait all day."
"All might." Jedro eyed him calmly, then took several quick steps and grasped the door handle.
"What do you think you're trying to do," bellowed The Strangler. Fear tinged his voice.
"I'm going to open it."
"Don't do that." He retreated a few steps.
"I'll d
o it if you don't get out of here," said Jedro. He pulled experimentally on the handle. To his amazement, the door swung open.
"Stop that," roamed The Strangler. Despite his surprise, Jedro took advantage of the performer's momentary consternation to leap up on the edge of the platform. As The Strangler rushed toward him, he yanked the door wider and sprang inside, then pulled it shut and backed away, his heart pounding wildly.
"Get out of there," bellowed The Strangler.
"Go away," he shouted. As Taber padded toward him, Jason Hart's dire warnings rang in his mind. Panicky, he backed away. A low growl rumbled from the big cat's throat.
The Strangler's eyes gleamed triumphantly. "Maybe he's not so friendly after all," he taunted.
"Go away," shouted Jedro.
"Toss me the stone and I'll let you out."
"No," he cried. Taber's growls roused his fright anew. The lion's tail swished rapidly. Her eyes glowing, Rana watched the proceedings from a few paces away. Suddenly the big cat crouched and leaped. Jedro sprang backward as he glimpsed the tawny body sailing through the air. It wasn't until Taber hit the door that Jedro realized he'd failed to lock it.
The Strangler stared stupidly as the door banged open and the big cat came out.
"Taber!" yelled Jedro. With a hoarse shout The Strangler whirled, racing across the sawdust floor toward the entrance to the ring. The big cat loped after him.
"Taber, come back," Jedro cried frantically. He raced from the cage and slammed the metal door behind him before Rana could follow. Bounding down from the platform, he saw the performer dashing madly to escape. Under the cone of yellow light, his gait was stiff and awkward.
The Strangler threw a quick glance backward, a blast of terror escaping his lips at sight of the lion's proximity. Hunching his shoulders lower, he plunged desperately ahead. The big cat began gathering speed.
Jedro shouted wildly as Taber leaped.
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Landing on The Strangler's back, the lion raked downward with its powerful hind paws. A terrible scream shattered the stillness. The performer lurched under the impact, sprawling to the sawdust with the beast atop him.
Sickened, Jedro fancied he could hear the crunch of Taber's jaws closing over the back of The Strangler's neck. The hoarse, bellowing shout of pure terror abruptly ceased.