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  The head didn’t bleed, but neither did it speak any longer after she struck at it. She turned to leave, satisfied that she’d communicated her message. When she saw Jay standing there, a stern look on his face, she broke into a smile.

  "What was that all about?" he asked.

  "Just making a point," she replied.

  "What did he say?"

  "What? You didn’t hear?"

  He walked over to her and slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her close to his body as they headed back to the front office.

  "All I heard was you, talking to a head."

  "Well, it was Frank. I don’t know how he did it. Jay, I think he means to kill you."

  "No, he won't. I don't think he will, anyway."

  "The thing that he’s become – the feeling that I got was that it was built on hatred. He was warning me to stay out of his way."

  "You should go with that idea. I don't think that you should be involved in this any more."

  "You're not shaking me so easily. Not after it took all this time for us to get back together. I guess I should thank Frank for that."

  Jay pursed his lips. His eyes shifted off to the side as he thought about what to say. Then he looked her straight in the eyes and gathered himself up.

  "Well, somewhere deep inside he’s thinking that he's more than just a friend. I think that’s why I’m here. This whole thing was designed to pull me back to town more than for revenge. Anyone who gets between the two of us is going to suffer."

  Meg shook her head.

  "I can handle him," she said, softly.

  He took her chin gently in his hand and tilted her face up toward his. He could see a look of uncertainty and concern in her eyes; the rhythmic motion as she ground her teeth, something she did when she was tense and worried. He hugged her close for a moment, then they walked, hand in hand, back through the office.

  They found Gary hanging up a phone at one of the vacant desks. He sat, deep in thought for a moment before setting his jaw and looking up at them.

  Usually, this would be a sign of his determination, but there was something in the look on his face this time which led both of them to feel that he was just barely holding himself together.

  "That was Neame," he said. "He was shitting his pants and for the first time since I started in this job, I couldn’t tell him what to do to steer his way clear."

  It angered Jay that all Gary could think about was his career, but he kept quiet. Gary's reaction was understandable. He was faced with something no one had had to deal with before. At least no one outside of one of the old Hammer or Universal horror movies.

  "So, what are you going to do about this?"

  Gary gritted his teeth one more time and then his jaw went slack, a sign of his surrender.

  "I honestly don’t know. Everything else that’s happened, I had an answer. Gene. But I can’t rightly say that a dead man somehow dug up a thick concrete floor, hauled it off to the landfill, buried a deputy in a new pour up to his neck, and did it all in the space of just a few minutes."

  Jay nodded. "So I ask you again. What are you going to do?"

  Gary rose from his seat. "That fire over at Tommy’s place was a diversion, wasn’t it? Let’s talk in my office. I don’t want to attract any attention here. If someone came by and saw me here now, they might wander in with questions."

  The office was hot and musty. A result of the old central heating system and Gary’s penchant for keeping it locked up tight when he wasn’t around. Even after they had removed their coats, Jay could still feel the perspiration soaking through the underarms of his shirt.

  Gary unlocked his desk, pulled out a key ring, and walked over to a couple of filing cabinets standing alone in a corner of the office. Both of them had long hasps that ran from the top to the bottom, locked by large, heavy padlocks. The top drawer of each had a combination lock. He opened the locks on the one closest to his desk and reached into it. When he turned back around to face them, the book he had taken away from them at Gene’s was in his hands.

  He walked back to his desk and set it down. He thought for a moment and then said to Jay, "Could Gene really have used this thing to bring someone back from the dead?"

  "Like I said," answered Jay, "if you have any better explanation, then make your case. I’m just a writer and it’s my job to use my imagination. I’ve seen things in my mind’s eye that most people would think were impossible, so I’m open to just about anything."

  "I’m just saying… He wasn’t really that bright to begin with, was he?"

  "Well, he didn't have to be a rocket scientist. After all, this is just a cookbook. Anyone can follow a recipe."

  Gary nodded in agreement.

  "We won’t know for sure until I can have Abe take a look at this," said Jay, holding up the book. "Do you mind if we take this to him?"

  "I’m still not sure I can believe in any of this, but I’m willing to give anything a shot. There’s not much sense in keeping it as evidence now, anyway."

  Gary leaned back in his chair and exhaled heavily as he rubbed his eyes. Then he leaned forward again, resting his hands on the inset leather blotter.

  Jay scooped up the book, clenching it tightly. Heat came from the flames embossed on each of the points of the pentacle.

  The tingling in his palm stopped when he shifted the book to his other hand. He took a quick glance and could see red marks where he had touched the leather. The same hot potato sensation occurred in the other hand.

  "Whatever we do," said Jay, "It needs to be done quickly. Abe said that Frank’s not going to be Frank much longer, whatever that means. It sounds as if, from what Meg’s told me and from what happened tonight at the station and Tommy's, the transformation he was talking about has started."

  "According to Abe, that means that he’s going to start wandering farther from home, looking for more victims wherever he can find them. We’ll take this book down to the shop so he can have a look-see. Then I think that we should meet in the morning to try and sort things out."

  "Okay, but you’d better leave right now. The sheriff said he was on his way down. I don’t want to explain what I’m doing letting you walk out of here with evidence."

  As he and Meg walked down the lonely sidewalk, with a sharp, cold wind to keep them company, Jay wondered just how prepared they were for what lay ahead. The one who was really in danger now was Meg. He didn't know how he would handle a jealous, angry, beastly thing like what his best friend had become.

  All that Jay could think about was the look in Frank’s eyes as he clawed at the ice from below, the blood flowing from his fingertips in little pink whirls like smoke from the tip of a cigarette. The look that Frank returned as Jay stared into the dark water burned hot with anger.

  They were halfway to Meg's house before he realized how tightly he was clutching the book to his chest. The knuckles of his bare hand were white and the tips of his fingers were stung by the cold. He quickly slipped the book under his arm and took her hand.

  "Baby you’re freezing," she said, and took his hand in both of hers and rubbed it.

  His fingertips tingled. Jay could feel sharp pinpricks as the circulation returned. He blurted out, "I’m afraid."

  CHAPTER 30

  Being two in the morning, it took some effort to rouse Abe. He was in a sour mood. His wardrobe consisted of a ratty flannel nightshirt and a pair of dirty corduroy slippers. The first sleepy word out of his mouth as soon as he opened the door was "fuck" spoken like a hard right to the jaw.

  Once Jay produced the book, though, Abe was wide awake. His attitude changed markedly. "Come on in, my boy," he said as he pulled it from Jay’s hands. "Please."

  Cluttered and dusty in the daylight, the bookstore was a creep show in the dark. The glow from the doorway to the back room cast odd shadows. It was easy to imagine strange creatures hiding in the nooks and crannies, their fangs and claws at the ready to tear an unsuspecting browser to bloody bits.

  Meg
gave an audible sigh of relief upon entering the well-lit back room. Abe’s eyes danced with glee as he sat down and stared at the cover.

  "I can’t believe that shit found this. Did he say where he bought it," he asked.

  "Well, he didn’t get a chance to say much of anything," replied Meg.

  They explained to Abe the events of the evening. He listened with rapt attention, the book sitting on the table in front of him, his hands occasionally given to rubbing it over and over as if he were a miser with a shiny, new jewel.

  When they had finished recounting their tale, Abe smiled and turned to Meg, saying, "My dear, I could kiss you. The image in my mind of you speaking with that deputy’s head. And then kicking him in the snout on the way out. Well, that just makes my night. It was worth it to get up just to hear that."

  Then, he began flipping through the pages of the book. The smile on his face turned into a thoughtful scowl.

  "This is it, all right," he said. "Technically, it isn’t even supposed to exist. There are many people who have been dreading this day."

  "I tried reading some of it and I couldn’t make head nor tails of it. What language is that?" asked Jay.

  "Sanskrit. One of the oldest languages known. It’s the great-great-granddaddy of all the Indo-European languages. Older than Latin, Greek… All of them."

  "Can you read it?" asked Meg.

  "My dear," exclaimed Abe, "I speak five different languages and can read seven more. Sanskrit is just one of them. Give me some time. I think I’ll be able to find a solution to our problem." He gave her a haughty smile. Then, she picked up his smugness and threw it back into his face.

  "Good, because Jay told Gary we’d be meeting with him in the morning and you’d come up with a way to stop Frank."

  Abe was flabbergasted, but he couldn’t let it show. Maybe he had overplayed his hand as an expert just a bit, but he knew that given enough time, he could crack this nut.

  "Give me until noon."

  It wouldn't be easy, but it was doable. It just meant going totally without sleep. Now was not the time to allow the others to know that he was uncertain about their future course of action; afraid of what the consequences would be if they failed.

  "There’s something else," Meg said. "Maybe it would be a good idea if you made sure that Jay went with you to talk to Gary. He’s not exactly the type to swallow this stuff easily and you- well, you’re you."

  "What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

  Meg just rolled her eyes and gave Jay a knowing look.

  "She’s right," he said. "You’re very… How can I say this? Exuberant. That’s the word. When someone disagrees with you, you can be very exuberant in making your case."

  "All right, all right," said Abe. "I get it. I’ll keep my mouth shut until you’re there to mediate." Then he turned to Meg and, sarcastically, he said, "Does that meet with your approval, then?"

  Reassured, Jay and Meg took their leave. The walk back to Meg’s house was quiet, the two of them just holding hands. For Jay, that was a good thing. His thoughts were elsewhere. That night, in her bed, he could never manage to get warm enough, even cuddled in her arms.

  CHAPTER 31

  Jay was late waking up. Meg practically had to dress him and throw him out the door. When he arrived at the sheriff’s station, what he had feared the most had happened. Abe was early. He was seated in Gary’s office drinking from a Styrofoam cup of coffee with the book lying on the desk in front of him. It was filled with little slips of paper marking various pages.

  Abe was just handing back an official-looking sheet of paper when Jay reached the doorway. Gary slipped the report back into a thick folder that was open on his desk blotter.

  "Why don’t you take off your coat and stay a while?" He motioned Jay to the seat next to Abe. "Your friend here tells me that he’s figured out how to stop Frank."

  Jay gave Abe a sour look as he took his seat. "Oh, has he now?"

  Abe threw up his hands and gave Jay a self-satisfied grin. "I think so."

  From somewhere near the office came the sound of a pickaxe impacting concrete. Gary shook his head.

  "Listen, before we go any further, I want the two of you to listen up. As far as the sheriff is concerned, I’m the man.

  "After he saw that mess in the cell block, he pretty much lost it. That means my balls are in the disposal and someone’s about to throw the switch."

  He looked straight at Jay as he poked his finger into the thick pile of papers in front of him.

  "This is all the evidence relating to the killings up until last night. I’m going to need another folder this size by the time we’re done with yesterday's party. I don’t care if I have to kiss a pig if it gets me the hell out from under this mess. Savvy?"

  Jay shifted uncomfortably in his chair while Abe nodded enthusiastically, which made Jay even more on edge.

  "I don’t know if you want the kind of publicity that Abe’s help might generate. We… Meg and I already talked to him last night. I thought we’d agreed that he’d work out what needed to be done and we… I would be the public face of this thing in dealing with you and the department."

  Jay didn't like the fact that Abe had forced his way to the forefront of the operation. He was letting himself be childish and driven by testosterone, but wasn't this all about his relationship with Frank, anyway?

  "Publicity," exclaimed Gary. "Hell, I’ve got that coming out my ass already."

  Jay was only half-listening to the conversation now. Maybe childish behavior was the key to the whole thing, after all. Frank was still basically a twelve-year-old, with the desires and temperament of an adolescent.

  Gary went on. "I’ve already got people from halfway across the country calling me; everyone from psychics to psychotics offering me their services as paid consultants. The TV news already picked up on that, so I don’t think that this should come as much of a surprise."

  He looked straight at Abe.

  "I just don’t want anyone running up and down the sidewalks of Main Street carrying a sign, understand?" Abe's hand went to his chest as if he had been shot.

  Abe didn't like being handled like he was a common quack or charlatan. He just tilted his head and looked to the side, away from Gary's gaze, and nodded his assent. How dare they assume that he wouldn't work in anything but a professional manner?

  There was an awkward silence for a moment. Then Abe cleared his throat, picked up the book, and began to flip through it. He grunted as his eyes settled on a page marked by an orange sticky note.

  He gathered himself up and spoke in a loud, firm, even voice. "This is not mumbo jumbo or hocus pocus. This is something serious we’re dealing with."

  To Jay, his voice was thunderous, filled with rumbling, pregnant undertones - purposeful. The purpose was to parry Gary's thrust and to make him feel like a simpleton. It was all part of the macho game that Jay didn't play.

  It occurred to him that it was a game being played by Frank, too. The point of it was that he was trying to remold life in Haddonfield so that things returned to the way they were before he died. If he brought it up now, though, it would be lost in the testosterone-filled atmosphere of Gary's office.

  Abe continued, on a roll in a milieu that suited his particular skills and which found Gary in deep water without a life vest.

  "You know all the stories about vampires, the walking dead, zombies, ghouls?" There was anticipation and relish in his voice which caused Gary to shift uncomfortably in his chair.

  "Well," he went on, "this spell that Gene used is the granddaddy of all that. It’s pre-Christian stuff from the Far East and it’s one of the reasons all the copies of this book were destroyed in the first place. Well, supposed to have been destroyed."

  "Why?" asked Gary.

  Abe’s breathing became heavier. He began to speak more rapidly, his speech clipped. "Because the idiots ran into the same problem that we have. They didn’t know how to shut it off once they used it."

 
"Somebody must have come up with something," interjected Jay. "I mean, we’d be hip deep in deranged spirits."

  "Unfortunately," replied Abe, "Their solution, if they found one, died with them. All I’ve had to work with were some later texts with accounts of similar events. It’s a stab in the dark at best and there aren’t any guarantees that anything I’ve come up with will work."

  "What kind of help do you need?" asked Gary.

  Abe’s eyes shifted to the ceiling for a moment, as if he were thinking, but Jay knew better. Abe wouldn’t have shown up without at least some idea of a course of action. This dissembling was all part of an act, a stage show that would make any magician proud.

  His eyes shifted back down and locked in right on Gary as he said, "The first thing that I need is access to the place where he died. It will hold a lot of power over him, even now. A kind of psychic impression, if you will. It will help in the planning if I can look it over."

  He rose from his seat and walked over to a large wall map of the township hanging behind the desk. He got so close that the tip of his nose practically touched it, running his index finger slowly from a point on the map which approximated the location of Gene’s house, to the location of Jack Hauser’s farm, right on into town to Tommy Lazaro’s house.

  Without turning around, he said, with a magisterial air, "I think that if you mark the sites of the murders, you’re going to find that they’re all along lines leading to that place. That’s his home base."

  Jay was skeptical about the simplicity of the idea. "So we’ll find him hiding in a coffin up there?"

  Abe turned on him, giving him the kind of look that a teacher would give a dumb student who needed to be led by the hand to an obvious conclusion.

  "No, it’s not that simple. If it were, this could have been over days ago. We have to call him. Like in a seance."

  Gary leaned back in his chair, out of the line of fire between the two of them. "Well, I can see no problem with getting you out there this afternoon. I don’t think I really want to get out there too late, though. I mean this could be kind of dangerous, couldn’t it? I’ve never dealt with spooks before."