F. Paul Wilson - Reborn

"You been through some awful times lately, what with what happened to Jim and then the funeral and all, and then near losin' the baby, and all that bleedin' "—he glanced at her over his shoulder to emphasize the next—"and not followin' your doctor's orders to rest and stay off your feet, ain't no wonder you started seeing things! You're lucky that's the worst of it. You could've gone an' lost the baby for sure this time."

Jonah was pleased with the fluidity of his ad-libbed explanations. He could almost believe them himself.

"I know," she said, slumping back to a reclining position on the rear seat. "I was stupid. But I think the baby's okay. I mean, the pain's gone now and there's been no more bleeding."

Lucky for you , he thought. If she lost the One, he would kill her. Slowly.

"But what about that flaming cross almost killing us," she said. "You can't tell me I imagined that!"

" 'Course not. The church got hit by lightning, the cross got knocked through the roof and ceiling, and that was it. We were lucky."

"But the glow!"

"St. Elmo's fire. Used to see it out on the farm during storms when I was a boy. Scary but harmless."

"You and Bill—you've got an explanation for everything!"

"You mean that priest fellow?"

"Yes. He says I should forget all this Satan nonsense and concentrate on having a healthy baby."

Jonah smiled ruefully. He never thought he'd ever find himself on the same side as a priest.

"I couldn't agree more, young lady. We all want that boy to be safe an' strong."

"Boy? Do you think it's going to be a boy?"

"Sure do." I know it !

"I have that feeling too. I think I'll name him James, after his father."

"That'll be nice." He has no father, but name him anything you want. It won't matter .

"Thanks for coming when you did, Jonah. You saved my life."

"Think nothing of it."

Because your life means nothing to me without the One.

7

"Where is she?" said the thin, pale one.

Emma glared up from her chair at the men who surrounded her. The one with the ax had climbed through the smashed window and unlocked the front door for the rest. They wanted Carol, but Emma would die before telling them.

"She's gone. Gone for the week. Gone for a rest."

"Really?" said the thin one. "When did she leave?"

"Straight from the hospital."

"She's lying," he said to the others. "We spoke to her here on the phone earlier this afternoon."

Two of the men hurried down from the upper levels.

"No one upstairs."

"Come on, lady," said the thin one. "We have no intention of harming you. We just want to find Carol Stevens."

"What do you want with her?"

"We'll take that up with her."

She didn't like the sound of that. What could—

Suddenly one of the men shouted, "There's a car coming in!"

"Do you feel it?" the thin one said in a hushed voice, his eyes wide and bright with excitement. "Do you feel it? It's her !"

Emma tried to scream out a warning but a hand clamped over her mouth.

8

By the time Jonah realized something was wrong, it was too late.

Carol was still shaky when they got back to the mansion, so he got her out of the car and had an arm around her waist as he helped her through the light rain and up to the front door. As soon as he stepped into the foyer, he sensed the danger. He spun Carol around to get her back to the car but suddenly there were four men facing him on the front porch—and more coming from the house.

"Who are you?" Carol said to them.

"We just want to talk to you, Mrs. Stevens," said someone from behind them. Jonah turned and saw a pale, thin man standing inside the foyer. "Come in. Please."

Jonah's mind raced. He knew who they were and sensed why they were here. Inside the mansion, death awaited the One.

I can't let this happen!

"Recognize them?" he said to Carol. "They're the ones who were here last Sunday. They killed Jim."

"Oh, God," she said. He could feel her anger feeding strength into her body as she straightened and stood on her own. Her voice gained a sharper edge. "Who the hell are you and why are you here?"

"My name is Martin," the man said. He motioned the others away from the door. "Please come in. I'll explain everything."

Jonah had calculated their total number at half a dozen or so, but only a few stood between Carol and freedom. If he could keep them occupied…

"Let's go in," Jonah said, taking her arm as if to guide her through the door. "Let's hear what they have to say."

As Carol stared at him in disbelief he watched the strangers. He saw them relax. They thought they had won. That was when Jonah made his move.

Whirling, he shoved Carol toward the porch steps, shouting, " Run !"

Continuing the same motion, he grabbed two of the strangers and flung them into the other two. There was an instant of confusion on the porch. He saw Carol stumbling down the steps, looking back with a white, frightened face.

"Lock yourself in the car and go!" he shouted.

Then someone leapt onto his back. Then another. And then a third. As he went to his knees under the weight he saw Carol reach the car. Mentally he cheered her on.

Go, girl! Get away from here! Run them down on the way out!

9

With a scream welling her throat, Carol pulled the car door open and threw herself into the front seat.

Safe!

But as she went to slam the door, someone grabbed the outside handle and yanked it back. The waiting scream broke free!

"Stay away from me! Leave me alone!"

She looked up into the bland face and gentle eyes of someone who could have been an accountant or a hot-dog vendor or a department manager at Macy's. But there was no mistaking the determination as he stood there in the rain and stared down at her.

"We have no wish to harm you, Mrs. Stevens."

"Then let me go!"

"I'm afraid we can't do that. At least not at the moment." He held out his hand to assist her from the car. She noticed that it was bandaged; so was his other hand. He pulled it back as if he had suddenly changed his mind. "Please come with me."

Another man, about ten years older but equally bland-looking, came up beside him and looked down at her. Both his hands were bandaged too. Despite her fear, she was struck by the strangeness of all those bandages.

"Please don't fear us," the second one said. "We're only here to help you."

Both their expressions showed a strange mixture of serenity and implacable purpose. Here was a pair who had found the answer to all things in life. No further questions were necessary.

The effect was chilling.

She looked past them to the porch where four men were still struggling to subdue Jonah. The first followed her gaze.

"We mean him no harm, either. Come."

Carol fought the hysteria straining against the underside of her diaphragm. They seemed sincere about meaning her no harm, yet something within her screamed in fear at the look in their eyes.

But what choice did she have? She was outnumbered and outflanked. They were out of sight of the road, and none of the neighbors were close enough to hear her if she screamed. Her arms and legs felt leaden, too weak to put up a struggle, too heavy to run very far.

And up on the porch they had Jonah on his feet and were leading him inside.

"All right," she said. "I'll come. Just don't touch me."

That seemed to be the farthest thing from their minds. Both men stepped back out of her way, but she noticed that the first kept a firm grip on the door handle.

They followed her to the porch. The one who had called himself Martin was waiting there. He spoke to the men with her.