She tossed away the flap of hair and skin and slapped Jerry across his face. Tammy had witnessed this kind of cruelty from her before; the last time Zeffer had been its target. And, just like Zeffer, Jerry seemed almost mesmerized by her show of fury, powerless to defend himself against her.
But Tammy wasn't about to watch him kicked half to death the way Zeffer had been kicked, even if in some twisted way Brahms was ready to accept that fate.
"You know how pathetic you are?" she said to Katya. "Slapping around old men? Pathetic. He didn't do anything down there. I did it. I did it all. Tell her, Todd."
"It wasn't Jerry's fault. It wasn't Tammy's, either."
"Yours, then?" Katya said, shifting her burning gaze to Todd.
As she spoke she put her hand on Jerry's face and pushed him. He reached out to stop himself tumbling back down the stairs, but there was nothing to catch hold of. Down he went, head over heels.
Tammy peered over the stairwell. Jerry was sprawled at the bottom, still breathing, but apparently unconscious. She was almost grateful. Better Katya dismiss him, and come after her instead. She could still run; she could still defend herself. And she certainly wasn't about to be hypnotized by the bitch's gaze.
She didn't wait for Katya to start up the flight in pursuit of her. She left the banister and headed into the kitchen.
"She's crazy."
It was Todd. He'd followed her in, shaking his head. "You gotta go!" he said to Tammy.
"Catch her!" Katya yelled. She was obviously taking her sweet time coming up the stairs, confident, even now, that she had this under control. "Todd? You hear me? Catch her!"
"What are you: her dog!" Tammy said, "Is that what she's reduced you to?"
"Just go," Todd said. "She's all I've got left."
"She'll kill you too if it suits her," Tammy said. "You know it."
"Don't say that," Todd begged. "I've got to stay with her. If I don't, what have I got? You were at the party! You heard what they said. It's all over for me. I don't have anything left, except her. She loves me, Tammy."
"No she doesn't."
"She does."
"No! She's just using you. That isn't love."
"Who the hell are you to say -- "
" -- as good as anybody else. Better, where you're concerned. The years I wasted thinking about you."
"Wasted?"
"Yes, wasted. I wanted you to love me. But you never did. Now you want her to love you. And she won't. Not ever. She's incapable of love."
It hurt him to hear that. It hurt because he believed her, much as he didn't want to. It was the truth. She knew it, and so -- to judge by those despairing eyes of his -- did he. His gaze went to the window. He studied the glass for a time.
"Do you think they're still out there?" Todd said.
"What? The dead? Yes ... "
Even as she was speaking she was thinking about Zeffer's last request. The madness of the Devil's Country had put it out of her head.
"Suppose I said I knew a way to get them into the house?" Tammy said.
"Is that possible?
"It's possible," Tammy said cautiously.
He went back to the door he'd just stepped through. "How?" he asked, lowering his voice.
Tammy was still uncertain of his allegiances. She didn't want to tell him everything in case he was still going to side with Katya. But on the other hand, she needed his help.
"It's just something somebody told me," she said. She wanted to believe she had him on her side, but she was far from certain.
Katya was calling from the stairs again. "Todd? Have you got her?"
"Close the door." Tammy said. "Keep her out." She started to look around the kitchen. Which of the drawers was most likely to contain a knife? A good strong steak knife. No, better, a fat-bladed chopping knife. Something that wouldn't snap under pressure.
"Todd?" Katya sounded as though she was in the hallway.
"Close the door." Tammy said. "Please."
Todd glanced back in Katya's direction. Then, God bless him, he closed the door.
"What are you doing?" Tammy heard her say.
"It's all right!" Todd called back to her.
Tammy started going through the drawers, as quickly as possible. There seemed to be dozens of them. Did she want aluminum foil and plastic bags? No. Spoons and ladles? No. Cutlery? There were a few knives in here, but they were too flimsy for her purposes. She needed a blade she could use to dig at the wood. If she didn't get the icons out of the threshold, the ghosts would stay out there.
"Todd! Let me in!"
"You have to go," Todd said to Tammy.
"Not until I've got a -- "
Yes! A knife! The ninth drawer she opened was a treasure trove of knives; large, small, middle-sized. Knowing she could only have a few seconds left before Katya came in, Tammy simply gathered up a handful of knives -- five or six -- and headed back to the passageway.
As she reached the door, she heard Katya's voice from across the room.
"You think you're going to save yourself with those?"
Tammy looked back over her shoulder. Katya had pushed the door open, and shoved Todd aside, raising her hands as she approached, ready to take Tammy by the throat.
Todd raced ahead of her to stand between the two women.
"Hey now," he said. "Let's just calm down. Nobody's going to hurt anybody."
Katya seemed to listen to him. Her agitation quieted. "All right," she said, looking at Todd with wide, dark eyes. "What do you suggest?"
Tammy didn't trust this little performance at all; but it gave her time to back off towards the door. As she reached it, one of her hastily-collected knives slipped from her hand. She bent down to pick it up, and in attempting to do so, lost her grip on all the others. She cursed as they went spinning across the polished tiles in all directions. "Pick them up, Todd," Katya said.
"Later," Todd replied, his tone still mellow.
In response she slapped him, hard, across his already-wounded face, striking blood from it. "I want them picked up."
He stared at her for a minute. Then, very calmly, he caught hold of her hand and said: "Don't do that."
"You want to hit me back?" Katya said. "Go on. If that's what you want to do, then do it! No, you won't will you? You're too damn weak. All you men. Too damn weak."
As if to prove the point she pulled her hand out of Todd's grip and pushed past him, heading straight for Tammy.
Faced with the choice of waiting a few seconds to see if Todd would come to her rescue, or making an escape while she could, Tammy snatched up the first knife to hand, which was neither the largest nor toughest of the blades, and made a run for the door.
Katya came after her; Tammy stumbled as she got up, and Katya would probably have caught up with her if Todd hadn't finally found the courage to put his arms around Katya from behind, and hold her back. "All right!" he yelled to Tammy. "Go!"
Tammy didn't need a second invitation. She ran out into the passage and slammed the door after her. It had a lock but regrettably no key.
She looked down the passageway to the back door. There was a glass panel in it. The glass wasn't flawless, but it was clear enough for Tammy to see the shapes of the ghosts, assembled like a pack of hungry dogs eager to be let into the house. She could hear the odd, listless murmuring they made, the words like objects that had been used so many times they had lost all their shape.
Did they know, somehow, that she was on her way to let them in? Was that why their murmuring became a little more urgent as she opened the door, and the silvery stare in their eyes a little brighter?
"Wait." she said to them, "I'm going to do this. But you have to wait."
There was noise from the kitchen behind her. Plainly Katya was attempting to persuade Todd to go and fetch her -- probably kill her. Tammy couldn't make sense of the words, and that was probably for the best. She couldn't afford to be panicked any more than she already was, or she'd screw this up.