Alarums Read Free Page A

went to get a book.
        Her loosely belted robe hung open. She left it that way, feeling too lazy and comfortable to bother closing it.
        She switched on the light in the spare bedroom, her office. Resting on the corner of her desk was the new Dean R. Koontz book. It was getting good, but it was a hardbound. No risking a hardbound in the bath.
        She started toward her bookshelves and yelped in pain as a corner of the desk gouged her thigh. Clutching herself, she whirled around and dropped onto the chair.
        'Jesus,' she hissed.
        When the pain subsided, she lifted her hand. No blood on her leg, but a layer of skin was peeled back, ruffled and white, leaving a patch of shiny pink flesh.
        She let out a trembling breath.
         Damn it, why didn't I look where I was going? It'll feel great when the hot water hits it.
        From where she sat, she could hear the bath water.
        She started to stand up.
        And noticed the telephone answering machine beside her typewriter. Its red light was on. She looked more closely.
        Four calls while she was gone? A busy night.
        She rewound the tape, pressed the playback button, then turned away and headed for the bookshelves.
        'Hello, honey.' Pen didn't recognize the man's voice. 'Sorry you're away. I wanted to talk to you about my big hard cock and your hot juicy cunt.'
        The words pounded her breath away. She spun around, stared at the brown plastic recorder.
        'How'd you like me to fuck your brains out, huh? Yeah, I'll stick it right up…'
        She lunged at the desk, arm out, stiff finger set to jab the voice to silence. The machine beat her to it, a quiet beep signaling the end of the message.
        Pen's legs felt weak. She braced herself over the desk, elbows locked, hands flat on the cool wood.
        Second message.
        Same voice.
        'How'd you like it if I stuck my tongue up…'
        She stabbed the stop button.
        Shut her eyes. Lowered her head. Took deep breaths as her heart slammed.
         Goddamn demented sicko. Good thing I wasn't home. Better fly eggs than…
        Pen opened her eyes. Glimpsed the blond tuft between her legs. Jerked the robe shut and pulled its belt tight. Looked at the machine.
        Maybe the bastard quit after two calls.
        She pressed the fast forward button, watching the counter turn. Okay, third message. '… come in your mouth. I want to shoot my load down…'
        She shoved the eject control. The cassette flipped up. She tore it from the machine and threw it.
        

CHAPTER THREE
        
        They were heading west on Highway 10, an hour out of Phoenix, the headbeams of the VW van pushing ahead of them through the darkness and lighting more than Bodie cared to see beyond the breakdown lane.
        The fencing over there had snagged a lot of tumbleweed. That seemed to be its sole purpose.
        Beyond the fence was nothing.
        Nada.
         Hell, there's plenty out there, he thought. Plenty of rocks and sand and cacti and tarantulas and scorpions. And tumbleweed.
        He remembered an old episode of Thriller or Outer Limits (hard to keep the two shows straight) where a couple got stuck in an area very much like this and the goddamn tumbleweeds got them. Surrounded them, closed in, and…
        A pale shape the size of a trashcan scooted into the path of his headlights. Bodie's foot jumped to the brake pedal. Before he could ram it down, the thing had already blown past his lane.
        A tumbleweed, must've hopped the fence.
        It looked like a giant hairball of dead sticks.
        The back of his neck tingled.
        'It's coming for us,' he said - quoting his favorite line from The Night of the Living Dead . He tried to smile.
        Melanie turned toward him. Her face was a pale oval with dark smudges for eyes and lips. 'Just a joke,' he said. She didn't answer.