Marilena was paranoid and reminded herself not to chase irrational trails. She heard the horn outside and reached past the computer to pull back the curtain. She gestured, pleading for more time, but she couldn't tell whether the taxi driver was looking.
When she sat back down she noticed she had brushed
260 the keyboard, and her page had disappeared. She had to refresh it to get back to the list of files, but now she heard the cab moving. He couldn't leave. Maybe he was just repositioning. But another two short bursts on the horn made her realize she had exhausted his patience.
Marilena leaped off the chair and staggered to the front door. She opened it to a cloud of dust as the taxi pulled out onto the highway. "No!" she wailed. "I'm
,
, sorry. I'm ready! Come back!"
I' But he was gone. As Marilena shut the door, her knees
buckled and she dropped to the floor. She landed on her right hip, and a sharp pain shot through her pelvis. As ishe tried to rise, dizziness forced her dowrt again, and she lay, panting.
i:, The room swam and she tried to pray. "God, I have ligiven myself to You, admitting I am a sinner and plead.:ing for Your forgiveness, for salvation. Do You not care? Can You not help me? I'm dying."
Marilena forced herself up to all fours, her knees :ender on the wood. She crawled to the phone, noticing 'dark purple tracks extending from all sides of her ban- i'.daged forearm. Her mind kaleidoscoped with conflicting iimages. She imagined herself on the phone, talking to i!the hospital and their telling her they needed the name 'i'of her doctor. She couldn't remember it, though she had just seen it in the computer file. In her mind she
.nted the treatment, told them it had just been the before, the time, the injury. No record. No record. record.
But I need help. Need an ambulance.
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We have no ambulances. Call the authorities.
I don't know the numbers and can't get to the phone book. Could you call them for me?
That is your responsibility, ma'am.
But I am going into shock.
Call Planchette. Call Viv. Call Nicky.
You know my son?
He is not your son. He is the son of Lucifer. You know this? Everyone knows this? Ma'am, you are dreaming. Call the vicar.
You know the vicar? Can you call him for me?
The vicar is Lucifer.
No! No, he's not! He's kind, but he's busy. He'll see me at five.
The phone was ringing. Marilena shook her head, trying to return to sanity, to real consciousness. Was the ringing real? Or was this also part of her hallucination? She wanted to get to it before the machine picked up.
She reached, but it seemed to drift farther from her the closer she got. She whimpered as the fourth ring ended and the machine kicked in: "You have reached the home of Viv, Marilena, and Nicky. Please leave a message after the tone, and we will get back to you as soon as possible."
"Ah yes, this is Dr. Luzie, checking on our patient. If she or one of you could call mem''
This was real! But dare she talk to him? She had to take the chance. Luzie? What kind of a name was that? As he droned on about wanting to know if there were any signs of infection or whether she had any questions,
Tim LaHaye Jerry B. Jenkins she wondered if there was anything to the fact that his name was close to iluzie, "illusion." Was her mind still playing tricks ?
With a desperate reach, Marilena grabbed the phone.
"Doctor! I'm here!" "Ms. Ivins?" "No! Marilena."
.. He hesitated. "Just checking to see how you are,
'am."
"Thank you, thank you. I'm in trouble, maybe going
shock, delirious."
"Have Ms. Ivins get you to the hospital as soon as ible. I'll meet you--"
. "She's gone! I'm alone. No car." "Can you call a taxi?" "Takes too long..."
Marilena was fading, angry. Why couldn't he understand she needed an ambulance? Her tongue was thick, mind whirling again. Was this real? Was he real? lid he be trusted? Of course not! He had been all part of the fnelaciune.
' "Sir, if you have any decency..."
Marilena heard the phone hit the floor just before she
She was drifting.. * drifting. *. and while she to remain conscious, the lure of sweet peace overcame
her. Sleep would quiet the cacophony in her She could do nothing for herself anyway. Had she close enough to the pain pills, she would have taken all, no question.
"God, grant me peace. And if I am dying, receive me."
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Marilena had no idea how long she had lain here. Her watch read four thirty, if she could trust her eyes and her mind. Nearly twenty-four hours since her own son had bit her. She was cold, shuddering. Hungry. Dare she eat? She still felt nauseated. She carefully rolled to where she could get back up on all fours, then kneel, and finally stand. Woozy.
Marilena sat on the couch. The phone lay on the floor ten feet from her now, and she heard the annoying tones and intermittent recorded message asking whether she was trying to make a call. She should pick it up, hang it up, try Planchette again, leave a message for the vicar, call the hospital. Do something--anything. But the ten feet looked like ten kilometers, and so she just sat.
Was this how it was to end? Had her foolish, selfish choices led to losing everything, including her son and her life? Waste. What a waste. But Marilena was a fighter. She wouldn't simply sit and take it. She forced herself to stand, stumbling to the wall for support until her head cleared. She hung up the phone, then picked it up to dial.
She would try Planchette's home first. Demand to know whether the woman--whoever she was--had heard from him, given him the message. Marilena would yell, cry, threaten, whatever she had to do to get answers. Maybe she would reveal that she knew everything and that she would go to the press, the authorities, expose the association.
But what about the fact that that number was no longer in service? Had that been an illusion too? a
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Tim LaHaye & Jerry B. Jenkins
dream? She dialed. Same message. She slammed the phone down and picked it up again. The church line was answered by machine again too. The hospital. She would call for an ambulance. But before she could dial she heard a car.
Marilena made her way to the front window and out to see a late-model black sedan. When the driver emerged, the car still running, she saw it was the
Was this salvation or death? It made no sense. would he come himself? Why not send an ambu- nce? He had to be part of the conspiracy.
Oh, if sh'e could only believe he had a sense of decency, modicum of humanity! But she couldn't risk it. Mari-
headed through the kitchen to the back door. As she )ped out, she heard him knock quickly and open the door. How long would it take him to realize she was not there? He would discover the mess, the file the computer.
Her survival instinct masked her myriad ailments. She to get away, but where would she go? She could in the woods only so long. The barn might shield but he would think of that. She had to get to his car.
delicious was the thought of leaving him in a cloud
But where could she drive? If not straight to the room, she might die. But she would be easily there too.
Regardless, it was her only chance. She began a wide around the cottage, staying far enough from the that she could dart from behind one tree to She heard slamming and banging inside, the
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back door opening, footsteps. She waited. He cursed and returned inside through the back door.
Marilena crouched behind a tree about twenty feet from the idling car. It represented sweet freedom, at least temporarily. But he would report it stolen and she would soon be apprehended. At least that would put her with the authorities, who--if they didn't write her off as a fantasist--might at least provide sanctuary.
Marilena was about to bolt for the car when she heard the front door swing open with a bang and saw the doctor stride onto the
porch, hands on his hips, jaw set. Luzie scanned right and left, clearly seething. Then, as if realizing his carelessness, he all but slapped himself on the head, bounded down to the car, turned it off, and removed the key.
Marilena's last option had expired.
Or had it? She would not just crouch here, waiting to be discovered. She could not outrun him, but she had to somehow elude him. He returned to the porch, looked around some more, turned his back to her, and flipped open his cell phone.
Marilena hurried back the way she had come, keeping the cottage between her and him. She peered around the side to see if he was coming her way. From behind a hedge she saw him searching the other side of the place, near where she had watched the car. That left her free to head the other way, toward the barn.
Star Diamond faced into the stall. The stench overwhelmed her, but she was not about to swoon now. Keeping her distance from the murderous back hooves, she talked soothingly and moved in beside him toward his head. "Easy, Star Diamond," she said. "It's just me, boy."
He was calm, seeming to eye her warily. She didn't know how much horses knew or remembered, but he should recognize her. Marilena pulled the bridle from a ihook on the wall and was grateful the horse didn't resist she clumsily got the bit in his mouth and pulled the rest over his nose. The saddle was another matter. It traddled the side of the stall, but with only one good she couldn't heft it. Was there any way in the world she could ride this horse bareback?
Thoroughly unsure of herself, Marilena gently tugged
reins, trying to lead the horse. To her immense relief, he turned around. "Good boy," she said, wondering to climb aboard. And if she did, what then? If he there was no way she could stay on, and if he fast at all, she would surely be thrown. Well, at she would die trying.
Marilena knew nothing about horses, but to her, Star
looked curious, anticipating he didn't know
She climbed the railing next to him, reins still in hand. He was close enough that she could have easily
atop him had it not been for her injury. Now she had to work up her courage and refire her determination.
knowing she was without options, Marilena at the reins again until the horse was as close to as he could be without pinning her.
She reached as far as she could toward his neck and her foot over his back. As she settled onto him, his coarse, smelly hair repulsing her, he snuffled and pranced. "Whoa! Easy there, boy. Easy."
Marilena tried to hold the reins in both hands but had no idea how to thread them through her fingers as Nicky did. One thing she remembered was that Nicky acted gentle and firm at the same time, taking charge but not alarming the animal.
Sitting there in the stall, Marilena could see the cottage. And here came the doctor, if that's what he was. He would have to come all the way into the dark barn to see her. She prayed he wouldn't, but she was prepared if he did. As soon as he got within range of the horse, she would press her heels in, rock forward, and yell to get the steed to move. If there was a God in heaven, Star Diamond would trample Luzie, and she would somehow get the horse stopped, get Luzie's car keys, and get as far away from here as possible.
From her perch she could see the doctor following her tracks in the dust. There went her hope that he would save the barn till last. She leaned forward and spoke quietly. "Ready, boy. Let's get ready to move." If she hadn't feared for her life, Marilena would have laughed at herself, having zero idea whether she could get that horse to do a thing.
As the doctor blocked the light and entered the barn, the horse's ears pricked and he stiffened. Marilena pulled the reins and pressed her knees against the horse. She tried to make a noise, but that only drew Luzie's attention. Marilena rocked violently and shook the reins, shouting, "Go! Go now!"
The horse stamped and stepped forward, but the man moved directly in front of him. "Whoa, Star Diamant!" he said, and the horse stopped. How did he know its name? How tied in to Viv could he be?
"Get down, Mrs. Carpathia," he said.
But she yanked again at the reins, trying to get the
, horse to move, to rear, to buck, to do anything. She
.would rather die being thrown against the barn wall than be captured by this pretender. The horse was clearly
ooked but seemed to look to the man for instruction.
Luzie reached for the reins and dragged them from herhands. "Down. Now."
Marilena forced herself to slide off the other side and
Tried to run. She felt like a fool, lurching, limping, lering. She whimpered as she hurried to the exit at the other end of the stable, hearing the determined footsteps of the man behind her. He wasn't even running, just
purposefully, patiently, as if knowing she had to go and would soon spend herself.
He was mistaken, she thought, to not stay close, if nothing else, she might be able to lock herself in his car. It would not be an escape, but it would flus-
him. If he meant to kill her, she was certainly not going to make that easy. Mustering her ebbing reserves, first tried to fool him by tumbling in the dust.
looked back, and sure enough, he slowed and smiled. Marilena scrambled painfully to her feet and made a dash for the car. As she dived into the passenger !de and shut and locked the door, he pulled the keys from his pocket and dangled them. She hit the door lock
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and folded her arms, staring at him. He shook his head and popped the locks with the remote.
How could she have been so stupid? For a few seconds they traded jabs with her relocking the doors every time he hit the button. All the while he was coming closer. "Just get out," he said. "You're embarrassing yourself."
She flashed him the same gesture Nicky had used the day before, but it gave her no satisfaction and only made him laugh. He was looking down at her through the window now, holding the remote before her eyes. He hit the button. She locked the doors again. The next time he pushed the button, she was ready with her good hand on the handle. As soon as the lock popped, she pulled the handle and drove the door into him with her feet.
She yelped with satisfaction as he fell, and she quickly pulled the door shut again and locked it.
He bounced up, face red, eyes smoldering. With a karate kick he drove his heel through the window, showering her with glass.
Marilena grabbed the steering wheel and slid across the seat and out the driver's-side door. She bounded up the steps onto the porch, raced inside the cottage, slammed the door, and locked it. As she hurried to the back door to do the same, she could see Luzie running beside the cottage. They reached the back door at the same time and he burst in, pushing her to the floor.
So this was it. She had lost. He stood over her, shaking his head. "Foolish cdt, ea," he said.
That was all she needed to hear. Whatever he planned
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Tim LaHaye & Jerry B. Jenkins to do to her or with her, she was going to make it difficult. He would pay for every offense. She would not surrender, not go easy. She acted as if she had given up, letting her shoulders slump. But as he reached for her, she drove her foot into his shin and pushed him back. She got up and rushed to the phone.
Before she could dial he tore the phone from her hand and threw a forearm into her that knocked her onto the
She slammed against the back and tumbled to the floor.
Marilena wasn't sure how much more she could but she knew all this was only making her injuries
"Listen," he said, "I am a doctor, and I can make you
better if you'd just let me."
"Oh, certainly, Doctor," she said, panting. "What
would I have not to trust you?"
He pulled a syringe from his pocket.
"No way in iad," she said. "Get anywhere near me
that and you'll regret it."
He shook his head and sighed, sitting across from her.
You're going to wish you'd accepted this the easy way.
"I don't think so.
What kind of woman would I be?
What kind of mother?"
"You're no kind of mother," he said. "We've already
that."
That made her want to attack, but she felt herself
The longer she sat, the stiffer she grew. Her hand was swollen to where she couldn't bend her fingers.
full of poison, you know," he said. "Your
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emergency-room treatment was lethal. I'm surprised it hasn't felled you already. You're on borrowed time."
"I suspected as much."
He waved the syringe. "This will put you out of your misery. No pain. You'll just drift off."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" she said.
"I would indeed. This has already been too much work. I have a mess to clean up in Ms. Ivinisova's room, not to mention the rest of this place. Don't make me shoot you." He pulled back his suit jacket to reveal a snub-nosed revolver on his belt. "Blood takes so long to bleach and cover."
Strangely, that gave Marilena hope. She wasn't going to survive this, but if she could somehow stave off the injection, he would be forced to shoot her and make a mess. The satisfaction of making his task so much more complicated was a small consolation, but she had not yet surrendered her will to live. That instinct burned brightly deep inside her, and she wondered if there was a chance she could in any way turn the tide.
"I'm done," she said. "Just shoot me."
"I don't want to do that," he said. "Believe it or not, I respect your hotarre."
Determination? She had that all right.
"Just resign yourself to the inevitable, ma'am, and take the injection. It will be so much easier for both of us." She nodded. "I don't want an ugly death."
"That's the spirit," he said. He pulled a small vial from his pocket and from it filled the syringe.