Robin Cook - Fatal Cure

The first address turned out to be a convenience store. Angela angled in to its parking area and pulled to a stop.

Nikki looked at the store and then back at her mother. "What are we doing here?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," Angela said. "Keep an eye out for the Volvo."

"It's not here," Nikki said.

"I realize that, dear." She put the car in gear and headed for the next address. It was Forbs' residence. Angela slowed as they came to the house. The lights inside were on, but there was no Volvo.

Disappointed, Angela again gunned the engine and they sped away.

"You're still driving weird, Mom," Nikki said.

"I'm sorry," Angela said. She slowed down. As she did, she realized she was gripping the steering wheel so hard, her fingers had gone numb.

The next house was Maurice's. Angela slowed but immediately saw that it was closed up tight with no sign of life. Angela sped on.

A few minutes later, when she turned onto Van Slyke's street, Angela spotted the Volvo instantly. So did Nikki. It was a ray of hope. Angela pulled directly behind the car, turned off the ignition, and jumped out.

As she approached the car she saw Calhoun's truck in front of it. She looked in both vehicles. In Calhoun's truck she noticed a moldy cup of coffee. It appeared as if it had been there for several days.

Angela looked across the street at Van Slyke's house. There were no lights whatsoever, fanning Angela's growing alarm.

Running back to the car, Angela got the shotgun. Nikki started to get out, but Angela yelled at her to stay where she was. Angela's tone let Nikki know there was to be no arguing.

Carrying the shotgun, Angela ran across the street. As she climbed the porch steps, she wondered if she should go directly to the police. Something was seriously wrong, there was no doubt about it. But what help could she expect from the police? Besides, she worried that time might be a factor.

She tried ringing the doorbell, but it clearly didn't work. Failing that, she banged on the door. When there was no response, she tried the door. It was unlocked. She pushed it open and cautiously stepped inside.

Then, as loudly as she could, she yelled David's name.

David heard Angela's yell. He straightened up. He'd been slouched against a bin filled with desiccated apples. The sound had come from such a distance and had been so faint that at first he questioned if it had been real. He thought he might have been hallucinating. But then he heard it again.

This time David knew it was real, and he knew it was Angela. He leaped to his feet in the utter darkness and screamed Angela's name. But the sound died in the confined, insulated space with its dirt floor. David moved blindly ahead until he hit against the door. Then he tried yelling again, but he could tell it would be in vain unless Angela were in the basement.

Groping along the shelves, David seized a jar of preserves. He carried it over to the door and pounded the wood with it. But the sound was hardly as loud as he'd hoped.

Then David heard what he thought were Angela's footsteps somewhere above. Changing tactics, he hurled the jar of preserves against the ceiling. He covered his head with his hands and closed his eyes as the glass smashed against the floorboards.

Groping back to the shelving, David tried to climb up on it so he could pound directly on the ceiling with his fists. But he'd only pounded once when the shelf he was standing on gave way. The shelf and all its jars collapsed to the floor, David along with it.

Angela felt frantic and discouraged. She'd rapidly toured the first floor of the filthy house, turning on what lights she could. Unfortunately she found no evidence of either David or Calhoun, save for a cigar butt in the kitchen that possibly could have been Calhoun's.

Angela was ready to start on the second floor when she thought about Nikki. Concerned, Angela dashed out to the car. Nikki was anxious, but she was okay. Angela said she'd be just a bit longer. Nikki told her to hurry because she was scared sitting by herself.

Angela ran back into the house and started up the stairs. She carried the shotgun with both hands. When she reached the second floor, she stopped and listened. She thought she'd heard something, but if she had, she didn't hear it again. She continued on.

The upstairs of the house was even dirtier than the main floor. It had a peculiar musty smell, as if no one had been up there for years. Giant cobwebs hung from the ceiling. In the upstairs hall Angela yelled David's name several more times, but after each shout there was nothing but silence.

Angela was about to head back downstairs when she noticed something on a small console table at the head of the stairs. It was a rubber Halloween mask fashioned to look like a reptile. It was the mask the intruder had worn the previous evening!

Trembling, Angela started down the stairs. Halfway down she paused to listen. Once again she thought she'd heard something. It sounded like distant thumping.

Angela was determined to find the source of the sound. At the base of the stairs she paused again. She thought she heard pounding from the direction of the kitchen. She hurried into the room. The noise was definitely louder. Bending down she put her ear to the floor. Then she heard the knocking distinctly.

She yelled David's name. With her ear still pressed to the floor she could just barely hear David answer, calling her by name. Angela scrambled to the cellar stairs.

She found the light and headed down, still clutching the shotgun. She began to hear David's voice more clearly, but it was still muffled.

Once she was down in the basement, she yelled his name again. Tears sprang to her eyes when she heard his reply. Weaving her way through the clutter, Angela followed the sound of his voice. There were two doors. By this time David was pounding so hard Angela knew immediately which one he was behind. But there was a problem: the door was padlocked.

Angela shouted to David that she'd get him out. Leaning the shotgun against the wall, she scanned the basement for an appropriate tool. Her eyes soon came to rest on the pick.

Swinging the tool in a short arc, she hit the lock several times but with no result. Trying a different approach, she inserted the end of the pick beneath the hasp and used it as a pry bar.

Pushing with all her might, Angela was able to snap the hasp and its mounting screws out of the door. She then pulled the door open.

David rushed out and embraced her.

"Thank God you came!" he said. "Van Slyke is the one behind all this. He's killed the patients and he killed Hodges. Right this minute he's in a psychotic panic and he's armed. We've got to get out of here."

"Let's go," Angela said. She snatched up the shotgun. Together they hurried to the stairs.

Before they started up, David put a hand on Angela's arm. He pointed toward the cement slab next to the hole he'd been digging. "I'm afraid Calhoun is under there," he said.

Angela gasped.

"Come on!" David said, giving her a nudge.

They started up the stairs.

"I haven't learned who is paying Van Slyke," David said as they climbed. "But it's clear that's what's been happening. I also haven't learned how Van Slyke has been able to kill the patients."

"Van Slyke is also the one who was at the house last night," Angela said. "I found the reptile mask upstairs."

As David and Angela reached the kitchen, headlight beams suddenly filled the room, playing across their horrified faces. Van Slyke had come back.

"Oh, God, no!" David whispered. "He's back."

"I've turned on a lot of lights," Angela said. "He'll know something's wrong."

Angela thrust the shotgun into David's hands. He gripped it with sweaty palms. They heard the car door close, then heavy footsteps in the gravel of the driveway.