But she moaned. A moan of pain, but undeniably from a living breathing person! There was hope!
Lucus Simpson was jerked out of his trance-like state and jerked around to face his daughter, firing two more rounds as he did so. They buried themselves harmlessly in the wall. He stared at Sherry's still living form in horror as she tried to raise her head and prop herself up on an elbow, only to collapse moaning in pain.
As he stared at her, Rod had to do some quick thinking. He had to somehow get across the room to that madman before he took that last bullet. Or else he had to make him fire the gun. But how!?
Carrie provided the answer. She lunged for the piece of wood he'd forced her to drop when he'd first discovered her presence in the room. It still lay at her feet, and with her father's attention momentarily diverted, she bent down, picked up the heavy piece of wood in her hands and without even bothering to take aim she threw it as hard as she could across the room. She evidently knew how to throw well.
The wooden splint flew straight as a spear. Her quick movement had once more diverted Lucus Simpson's attention, and as he quickly turned to face this new threat, the piece of wood caught him right in his adam's apple. He instantly started to cough, bending over in pain.
Rod had started to sprint across the room towards him as soon as Carrie had heaved the splint at him, and as he doubled over, Rod felt him to be an easy target. He proved much more dangerous.
He was obviously having trouble breathing, but he still managed to swing his arm out towards Rod when he was within range. The revolver caught Rod right across the cheek and for a moment he saw stars and nearly fell. Then he swung back, caught the madman right on the chin, but it scarcely affected him.
Then, as Lucus once more lowered the revolver to Rod's stomach, this time with no doubts about whether he was going to use it or not, Rod truly tensed himself for the hot lead.
That is, until he saw that Carrie had managed to pick up the wooden splint once more and sneak around behind her father in the same position where she'd been before. This time, she was successful.
The piece of wood flew with perfectly aimed precision up between Lucus' legs, burying itself in his balls. All his muscles went rigid instantly and Rod was afraid he might pull the trigger, but then they went slack almost as quickly. He fell like a piece of empty clothing tossed on the floor. His gun clattered across the floor.
Rod jumped for it, but Carrie was on it first, pulling it from his reach.
Her father was not yet done-for either, rising to his knees, looking Carrie directly in the eyes, face white but still rigid with determination, trying to stand.
He held out his hand.
"Give it to me, Carrie."
She backed away, the obvious conflict within her twisting her face totally out of shape.
"Carrie, I'm your father. You can't use that against me."
He was standing up now, wobbling, the effects of the splint in his balls not yet subsiding. But he was persuasive. Old patterns of behavior die hard. No matter how long Carrie may have nurtured rebellion in her mind, she had been simply his unquestioning daughter for many years longer. She struggled with an awesome choice at the moment, and Rod knew nothing he could do to make it easier for her.
Lucus took a couple of steps towards his frightened daughter. She stepped back again and found herself nearly against the wall. Lucus began to laugh.
"You can't use it. Don't even try. Give it to me, do you hear? Carrie, give it to me."
He was closing the gap between them. Still the girl could only stare at him in absolute fear, paralyzed by the situation in which she found herself.
"Stay back," she finally managed to say, but didn't sound a bit convincing.
"No, I don't think I will," her father answered. "Now give me the gun."
Rod was later unsure if he could even remember the sound of the final bullet firing. He could only really remember Lucus being literally thrown back off his feet. He fell flat on his back, eyes still opened, a slowly growing splotch of deep red forming over the space where his heart only moments before had pounded wildly. He looked simply surprised.
Carrie held the gun limply in her hands, was nearly on the verge of tears and would probably have fallen if Rod hadn't been at her side at once, arm around her, soothing voice in her ear.
She fell against him. She began to cry. Great heaving sobs poured from her throat shaking her body like someone jerked her on a string.
Rod quickly led her to a chair and made her comfortable, then ran to Sherry's side.
She was dazed, hopelessly confused and bleeding.
Carrie stared at them from across the room.
"She isn't dead yet, is she?"
"No, but she's hurt. Not nearly so bad as I'd thought. It looks like her hand, her leg and shoulder. But no major arteries or veins. At least it doesn't look like it."
He continued to examine Sherry's naked body until he was sure that she was no worse than that, took a blanket from the bed and wrapped it around her.
"We have to stop the bleeding," said Carrie, her voice still dull and lacking expression, but at least she was thinking, dealing with the situation.
"Do you know how?"
She nodded.
"He insisted that we know first aid. And he taught us a lot more than most people know. He was a doctor, remember."
She worked fast, tearing sheets for bandages. "That should hold her. For awhile. How long is it going to take us to get out of here?"
"Your father mentioned a radio. Do you know where it's at?"
"No. He never let us see it. He never used it that I know of, but I guess he must have once in a while. We'll have to search the house."
Sherry started to mumble something.
"What's she saying?" asked Rod.
Carrie put her ear close to her sister's mouth. "I think she's saying it's down in the laboratory. Come on, it's this way."
"Wait a second," said Rod. "I want to check on Johnny."
His friend looked pale. He hadn't moved again since Sherry had fallen off the bed. Rod tried not to look at the sickening angle of his leg bone. He wondered if Johnny would ever be able to walk right again.
"Johnny, wake up. Are you all right?"
Johnny made some incoherent noises, but opened his eyes and smiled. "Shit, I told you I was too old for this shit. Next time, I'm staying in the damn city."
Rod looked at Carrie.
"He'll live. Come on. Let's look for that radio."
They broke the lock on the laboratory and walked down the steps. The room was still bathed in the same glow it had when Lucus had been down there. The same blob stared silently from the still flickering screen. Rod let out a low whistle.
"Christ, what was he doing down here?"
"He never would tell us. But there was something he mixed up down here and he'd take it and it would make him crazy. That's what happened tonight."
Rod looked at her. "You've been through this before?"
"Not quite as violent. But yes. All our lives."
They found the radio after a random sampling of buttons on the console slid a small door aside on one of the cabinets. Rod made contact with the nearest ranger station without difficulty and soon had help racing to their rescue.
He looked at Carrie.
"You know, it's just starting for you?"
"I know. Will there be a lot of people and a lot of questions?"
"Probably."
"Tell me about my father. What did he do?"
Rod shook his head. "Later. There'll be lots of time."
He took her hand and they ascended the stairs and went back to wait with the others.