Valley of the Shadow (36 page)

    She paused again to make sure Gary the trooper was still engrossed in his newspaper.

    “Oh, wait, I know.…” She gently pinched the old man’s nostrils shut and his lips together. “The dead kind.”

    The body of Howard Bristol lay motionless for a moment. Then it quivered slightly and tensed. Julie kept her eyes on the door the whole time.

    The seconds ticked by.…

    Four and a half minutes later, Julie Harris rolled the cart back out of the room, softly humming a pleasant tune.

    “All done,” she said. “Thanks, Gary.”

HOWARD BRISTOL SAT
on his back porch, chewing a Slim Jim, staring out at the yard, the field, and the woods beyond. It had been a quiet few weeks since Mitch had gone. Howard had left the cribbage board out on the table, ready for another game. Just in case. He still held out hope that Mitch would be back someday. He was always hopeful.

    Everyone has to die sooner or later.

    A gust of wind blew through the yard, carrying fine dirt off the field. It swirled and scattered along the driveway.

    Howard caught sight of someone standing at the entrance to the barn. A silhouette. Tall and thin. He noticed a second faceless figure standing by the maintenance shed.

    Howard frowned. “What now? I don’t have any visitors. There’s no one here to grab today.”

    A second, stronger gust of wind rattled the door and the shutters behind him. A soft voice whispered.

    “Beloved.”

    Howard stopped chewing. “What?”

    Two more gray creatures appeared at the corner of the house and one on the other side by the tree. They approached the porch from all directions. Some walked upright; others crouched. But they all moved with quiet, deliberate strides.

    Howard stood. Something strange was going on. They rarely came out so early in the day. He was starting to get annoyed. “I told you, I don’t have any visit—”

    A sharp pain stung his flesh. He clutched his chest and doubled over. It was a pain he’d never experienced before. His skin tingled.

    “What the—?”

    He tore open his plaid shirt and examined his chest. It was the sagging, mottled chest of an old man. And it was covered with a purple rash.

    Howard shook his head. “Now… now wait a minute. We had… we had a deal.”

    He tried to move inside, but a second bolt of pain stung him. The skin on his hands was turning purple as well.

    He staggered back into his chair. “Hold on a minute. Please… listen to me.…”

    The creatures climbed onto the porch.

    “We had a deal!” Howard’s eyes flared in anger. “I did everything you asked of me! Every last thing!”

    They reached out long, spiderlike fingers and grabbed him by the arms. He pleaded; he begged. He cursed them. But they hauled him down off the porch. He struggled but he was no match for them. His arms grew numb.

    They pulled him across the yard, out into the field.

    Howard screamed now, full-throated, kicking his feet and fighting in mad desperation as they dragged him over the open field, leaving a haphazard trail of footprints and ruts in the dirt. They disappeared finally into the embrace of the black forest. But his screams continued several minutes longer, echoing amid the trees.

    Then, at last, they stopped.