The Litter of the Law (26 page)

Next to Fair in the cab, Ned remarked, “That horse could be in a movie.”

Fair, Dinny’s physician, chuckled. “Dinny is dipped in gold.”

Sighing, Ned absentmindedly stroked Pewter’s head as she chose to grace his lap with her large presence. “I’ve been a horse husband for twenty-three years,” said Ned. “I’ll bet I’ve spent
more money on horses, tack, and membership fees to hunt clubs than I did on my children’s college educations.”

“No doubt, but you have a happy wife,” said Fair. “Think of the men who don’t.”

Ned laughed. “Point well taken.”

Miss Mona, ears still keen, said to Susan, “I hear screams behind us.”

Susan nodded. “Over in the hayfield.”

The jack-o’-lantern flickered ominously, on the fence post at the end of the hayfield.

Buddy Janss, still dressed as Frankenstein’s Monster, clambered up one of the hay rolls, kicking the man dressed as Dracula as he tried to follow. Finally, the faux vampire grasped his ankle, pulling down the huge fellow. From a distance, Dracula appeared to bite the monster in the neck as Frankenstein bellowed, then fell still. Dracula opened his cape, slipping his knife into his belt. He also carried a small pistol but didn’t use it on Frankenstein. The noise would have proven too distracting. As it was, those viewing the drama thought Frankenstein had been bitten, which he was. He was stabbed, too.

Bloodcurdling screams filled the air, the perfect cover for real mayhem. This Halloween Hayride was topping all prior ones for thrills.

The big square churchyard, hand-laid stone fence surrounding it, hove into view. The obelisk shone silver. As they approached, Harry could read the name on the monument:
VILLION
.

From behind the obelisk, movie villain Jason appeared, chain saw in hand, white mask in place. Swinging the saw around like a hammer throw, he advanced toward them. The chain saw was not turned on, but that didn’t lessen the startling effect. As he rushed them, wailing ghost noises from the graveyard added to the drama.

From the hayfield, Count Dracula ran hard, jumping the low stone wall at the other end of the graveyard, fangs dripping blood as he headed toward Jason.

“Oh, look at the bony arm reaching out from the grave.” Miss Mona shivered a moment.

The colonel nodded, for he had seen this sort of thing in real life. He’d seen much, maybe too much.

Despite the screams, Bunny Biedecke remained asleep.

Jason turned to meet his attacker and swept the chain saw at Dracula, whose head tumbled off backward. But being undead, the Count picked it up, put it right back on. The two creatures struggled; the Count grappled with Jason, biting him in the neck. Jason fell to the ground, grabbing his neck, fake blood shooting through his fingers.

Using one hand, Dracula vaulted over the graveyard stone wall to disappear. As the wagon slowly passed, Jason rose up, returning to the graveyard.

Hearing a strangled cry, Little Mim’s husband, Blair, pulled off his Jason mask and walked to peer over the other side of the graveyard wall. On his side, trying to clear his throat and his head, was Barry Betz, the original Dracula.

“Barry! Barry!” Blair said, hopping over.

The young man couldn’t yet speak. Blair looked over the field
and beheld another person dressed as Count Dracula running toward Tazio, as had been planned.

“Watch out!” Blair shouted to Tazio.

She turned, holding up her cross as the Fallen Angel, but this final time Dracula did not shrink back as scripted. Instead, he struck her hard enough to knock her sideways. Grabbing her, he pulled her up; she struggled to escape until he put a gun to her temple. He dragged her to a dip in the land where he had hidden a dirt bike.

“Get on the bike,” he ordered.

Tazio did as she was told. He sat behind her, gun still to her temple. He started the dirt bike. Given that the gas was on the right handlebar, he had to slip the gun into his belt alongside the knife. As the bike picked up speed, Tazio sat still.

From her perch, Cooper could only dimly see the unplanned drama. She didn’t have time to punch in numbers on her cellphone, and pulled out the whistle instead.

The piercing note carried across the fields, over the assembled wagons. Dabny fired up the truck, roaring out of the side farm road. He screeched to a halt beneath a tree.

“Get me outta here!” said Cooper. “Something’s wrong.”

Dabny backed the truck under the tree and stepped up into the bed. He lifted himself from the bed onto the cab and reached a limb. Swinging himself up, he climbed toward Cooper, who was on her way down.

“It’s these damned wings.”

Dabny unfastened her wings as she tore off the mask. Then they both backed down the tree and got into the truck.

“Graveyard,” was all she said.

Within minutes they reached the graveyard, where Blair was helping out an injured Barry.

From the Haristeens’ truck bed, Harry shouted to Cooper,
“Some maniac’s got Taz!” Harry hopped off the truck and started running after the dirt bike, now churning away from the graveyard. Mrs. Murphy and Tucker leapt off to follow. In the cab, Pewter thought they were crazy. She stayed put, hoping Ned wouldn’t join in the ridiculous tumult.

Dabny turned the truck around and headed in the direction in which they last saw the fleeing vampire, with Cooper sitting next to him, straining to see anything.

Riding Dinny back to the schoolhouse, Paul caught a glimpse of Dracula on his bike, carrying the Fallen Angel. The abductor dipped down the other side of a swale in the hayfield.

Leaning forward on the solid horse, Paul galloped toward the spot. When he reached the cusp of the swale, he saw below him what he assumed to be a crazed idiot stop to position Tazio so he could hold her tighter. Without a second of hesitation Paul charged down the low rise and came alongside the dirt bike, which hadn’t picked up speed with its cargo. Leaning over, he tried to climb on, and grabbed Dracula’s shoulder; Dracula reached for his gun. Paul slid off Dinny like a calf roper and the horse stopped cold.

Paul wrestled the fake vampire to the ground, the bike’s wheels spinning as they went over. The young man shoved Dracula away, then grabbed Tazio. Dracula retrieved his gun and remounted his bike. He buzzed off.

Tazio’s eyes fluttered as Paul lifted her into his arms.

“It’s all right, honey. You’re safe.” Paul hoisted her onto Dinny’s saddle and Tazio slumped forward on the animal’s neck. Holding the reins, Paul walked them up the rise, across the northern end of the hayfield. Ahead, he saw Buddy Janss as Frankenstein’s Monster, sprawled on a hay bale.

Flagging down Cooper and Dabny, Paul asked for help for Buddy.

“I’ll call an ambulance,” said Dabny. “Which way did Dracula go?” he asked Paul, who pointed west.

Dabny drove alongside the field in the direction Paul pointed.

Now in the hayfield, Harry ran toward the fiend dressed as Dracula, who pushed the dirt bike for more speed. Evidently, he was still a bit wobbly from Paul’s blow.

After loading Barry into the truck, Fair ran, keeping pace about two hundred yards behind Harry, but she was lighter and faster.

After looking over his shoulder to see Harry in pursuit, the attacker circled in the hayfield. He steered his bike behind the hay bales, cutting his engine.

Harry flew through the hay stubble faster than she’d ever run when she was on her college track team.

The dirt-bike Dracula saw that Harry was high up and behind him, but he couldn’t see Fair even farther behind. Slowly, he pushed his bike around the hay bales, darkness shielding him.

The darkness also shielded Taz on Dinny’s back, but as the attacker pushed his bike he now saw them.

The vampire pulled out a gun and leveled it.

Harry boomed out, “Paul, move!”

Tazio’s abductor stopped for a moment as Harry barely touched the earth, heading straight at him, Tucker and Mrs. Murphy in front of her.

Firing, he missed Tazio, then turned and restarted the bike. Switching his gun to his left hand, he revved the engine. He roared straight for Harry, cape flying, mask in place, fangs showing.

As the bike hurtled at her, he fired his revolver with his left hand, wide of the mark. Harry hit the ground and rolled. Cunning, she pulled out the .38. She figured he would be ineffective firing the gun with his left hand.

Then Dracula spotted Fair running at him, but he slowed and made a one-eighty, again barreling straight for Harry, now back on her feet.

She kept her eyes on his right hand. He had to take his hand off the throttle and switch the gun to his right hand to accurately fire the weapon. That gave her a ray of hope. Bending down, she picked up a handful of dirt and hay stubble with her left hand.

Nearly upon her, he slowed and pulled out his gun.

Harry fired one shot from the .38 at his torso and sent another bullet for the front wheel, too. The tire blew; the bike lurched, then toppled over.

As the rider screamed, Mrs. Murphy leapt onto his arm. Harry threw dirt in the eyeholes of his mask. With her front claws, the cat ripped the mask. He coughed, trying to hold on to the gun. With everything she had, Harry threw herself onto him, smashing the butt of the .38 into his masked head.

In her jaws, Tucker grabbed the man’s neck. Blood was running inside his mask where the animals had torn through. Bright crimson blood now poured from the deep fang marks the corgi made, and more blood oozed from Harry’s bullet, which had hit a lung. The dog continued biting as Mrs. Murphy nipped and nipped, her sharp claws lethal on small prey and painful on large.

Fair caught up with them. Hauling the man to his feet as he started to come to, Fair hit him so hard Harry heard the man’s jaw break.

Having followed the bike’s high revs, Cooper and Dabny now arrived, driving across the hayfield, dirt churning behind the truck.

Cooper pulled out her service revolver as Dabny took the snubnose .38 from Harry.

“Tucker, Mrs. Murphy, enough!” Harry commanded.

The cat sank her claws into the mask and pulled at it before it snapped back.

Cooper leaned down and yanked it off.

Harry couldn’t believe it. “Neil Jordan!”

His jaw hung, the break obvious, teeth missing.

“You could have been killed!” Fair exclaimed to his wife. “Why would you do something like that?”

“He was going to kill Taz,” she said to her husband, Cooper, and Dabny. “And I had Dad’s .38. You told me to use it if necessary. I always do what you tell me.”

“F
our people taken away to the hospital,” said Harry. “What a Halloween.” She, Fair, and Cooper were sitting at the kitchen table.

“Buddy, Taz, Barry, and Neil—and Neil under guard,”
growled Tucker, sitting on the floor nearby.
“If I could have had just a little more time, I could have killed him,”
bragged the corgi. Perhaps it was true.

Mrs. Murphy sat on Harry’s lap.
“He’s blind in one eye.”

“If I’d been with you, I’d have gotten the other one,”
said Pewter, in Fair’s lap.

Tucker laughed at her.
“Chicken, you stayed in the truck.”

“I jumped in the bed because Miss Mona had a spell while tending to Barry,”
Pewter explained, or tried to.
“She used to be a nurse, you know, back in the 1950s, but it was too much for her.”
The gray paused.
“I had to help.”

While this was wishful thinking, neither Mrs. Murphy nor Tucker teased her, because Cooper was now telling the assembled humans just what had happened after the ambulances left.

“We walked into Mount Carmel, told everyone gathered there in the church to stay still, and we counted heads. Wesley Speer was missing. So we drove to the schoolhouse. No Wesley. Put out an alert and picked him up the next morning, boarding a 6:10
A.M.
flight to Phoenix out of Dulles. Wesley admits to being an
accessory for the first two killings. Said he opposed killing Tazio and Harry. When he heard the shots, he knew Neil was out there. He got scared and ran. He swears he tried to talk Neil out of it on their cellphones. Swears Neil threatened him. Said he turned into a maniac after killing Josh and Hester. Mind you, I take this with a grain of salt. He wants to save his own skin.” Cooper paused. “I told Rick we should give Dinny, Mrs. Murphy, and Tucker an award for service to the public.”