"Stupid Lana refused hers," Susan said. "So did Linda and Judy. I just cannot believe you did that! How rude."
"It's just too expensive a gift, Susan. I … just don't think it's right to take something that expensive."
Susan's eyes glittered as dangerously as a snake before striking. The venomous look faded, and she returned to her breakfast. Eating in silence for a moment, she abruptly left the table without saying another word.
Lana's going to be all right, Nydia fired the thought.
I don't know, Sam disagreed. I don't think so. She's playing some sort of game.
"I think I just lost a friend," Lana said glumly. She was a small, very petite blond, with delicate features, deep blue eyes, and a lush little figure.
"Then she wasn't much of a friend to begin with," Sam told her.
"I … really don't … well, don't take this the wrong way, Nydia," Lana said. "And I don't believe you will, but I am … kind of sorry I came up here."
She's lying! Sam projected.
Nydia ignored the thought. "I know, Lana. I don't like most of my brother's friends, either. And neither does Sam." She started to warn the blond about her mother, the house, but the words would not form on her lips. She struggled to speak the warning but remained mute. She shut her mouth.
You see? Sam silently scolded her.
You can't know for a fact that she is lying!
I know only the words that come into my head.
But I thought your God was a just God? Nydia flung the challenging question.
He is. But He also helps those who help themselves. And He cannot tolerate a liar.
I don't understand, but I will accept what you say.
That's half the battle, honey.
Sam then remembered something, the recollection coming so strongly it hit his mental processes with the impact of a tidal wave: His Bible. He had never unpacked it from his luggage; it had remained in the bag since his arrival at Nelson College. And it was still there, in the bag, in his room … at Falcon House.
An unexpected ally.
"We have an excellent library here," Nydia was telling Lana. "All the latest novels. I'll show you where it is, and maybe you can find something you'd like to read."
"Oh, I'd love that. Could I … maybe dine with you two all the time—if it's okay?"
"Sure," Sam said. That way maybe I can figure out what you're scheming. "Sure, you can eat with us."
She squeezed his hand. "Thanks, Sam. You're the nicest guy I know."
She was gone from the table before Sam could reply.
"Umm!" Nydia said, humor creeping into her eyes. "I have some competition."
"Nah." Sam brushed it off. He leaned close and whispered: "Besides, I like girls with big tits."
The silence that hung over Whitfield was heavy and evil. Like a hot, humid day, it clung to people, enveloping them in a stinking shroud.
Those who thought they had fooled the Almighty as easily as they deceived their friends now found themselves caught in the middle of something they could not understand. They prayed to God, but they had lied in their hearts too many times, and even now, their prayers were insincere. They watched as phone company personnel pulled the plugs to their phones, cutting them off from the outside world. They sensed evil and danger all around them and tried to flee in their cars and trucks. But they could not get out of town. They returned to their homes and waited in fear for the unknown to occur. And they prayed, but the prayers fell on deaf ears.
They called their pastors, but the church pulpits had long ago been filled with those who worship another God. And the preachers laughed at them, some of them making evil deals with the husbands.
"Save you?" the preachers questioned. "All right. Your life for your wife."
"It's a deal," many husbands cried, pushing their wives into the arms of the ungodly.
The wives were taken and raped … among other acts committed against them.
But the husbands found that to bargain with the Devil is a fool's game. And they would learn that very painfully.
In the Lansky house, the golem stirred as invisible life was breathed into it. Wade watched it slowly shuffle across the floor, its ponderous legs and massive arms moving like some primal creature just awakened from a million years of ice-locked sleep. It bumped its head on an archway and stopped, looking almost stupidly around the room, the slits that were its eyes having no expression.
Miles came into the room and took the huge clay man's hand as one might take the hand of a child. "Is it time?" he asked.
The golem nodded, gaining balance and understanding with each second.
"What do I call you? You gotta have a name."
The golem shrugged its solid shoulders.
"I think I'll call you Hershel."
The golem lifted its hands in a gesture of acquiescence as Doris and Anita huddled together against a far wall. Wade sat with a faint smile on his lips.
"That thing really understand what you're saying?" Doris asked.
"I suppose," Miles said. "Sure, it does."
She walked from the corner of the room to look up at the huge clay man. "You can't walk around with no clothes on. You look … indecent."
The golem gazed down at the woman.
"So I made you some pants. You wait where you are." She left the room, returning with a large pair of trousers. "Denim," she said, holding out the jeans. "Difficult material to sew. But I did it."
The golem looked at the offered jeans, then looked at Miles.
Miles wore an exasperated look. "Momma, a golem don't know from pants. What's he gotta have pants for?"
"Because I said he's gotta, that's why. If he's gonna be our shtarker *(strong man)* he's gonna look nice, at least."
The four of them managed to get the jeans on the golem, and, surprisingly, the jeans fit well.
Miles patted the golem on the arm. "Joe E. Lewis, you ain't, Hershel, but you got class."
The golem lumbered out of the room, bumping his head as he went out the door. He sat down on the porch, waiting.
Wade picked up his shotgun, checking the loads. Miles did the same. The four of them sat in the living room. Waiting. Waiting for the evil to begin. Waiting for the horror they knew was coming.
Waiting for the night.
Waiting and praying they had enough faith to get them through it.
"Did you have anything to do with my friends' decision to remain in Whitfield?" Jane Ann asked Balon.
"Their final decision … no. That was something they decided upon a long time ago. Unknowingly. Wade made his decision when he shut down the newspaper. Miles when he sold his store."
"Tony?"
"He lost his faith years ago. Young Sam was only a child. Tony is evil."
"The world is a pretty crappy place, isn't it, Sam?"
"Father Dubois and I discuss that same topic from time to time."
"You make it sound like old home week."
The misty face smiled. "Heaven is not what most mortals envision, I can assure you of that. But I can tell you no more."
"I wish this was over."
"Yes."
"I want to go home."
"You will."
"Is it lovely … there?
"It is different."
"Peaceful?"
"Quite."
"Am I going to suffer before I … go?"
"I cannot lie. Yes."
"Miles and Doris? Wade and Anita? Anita is not very strong."
'They will suffer to a degree."
"But mine will be physical." It was not spoken as a question.
Balon projected no reply. "Your silence tells me I'm right." The mist thrust no mental response.
Jane Ann sighed. "I will endure it."
"Yes," the thought pushed into her brain. "And so must I."
SEVEN
"They're leaving," Roma said to Falcon. "Heading into the east woods." She swore, a venomous string of profanities. "It is difficult for me to believe I have birthed a Christian. It's disgusting! Where did we fail, Falcon?"
He laughed. "We didn't, Roma. Put such thoughts aside. Balon interfered, that's all. His seed must have been strong."