Help Wanted (17 page)

“Claudia!” she called. “Are you here?”

Her voice echoed back gloomily, and she slipped out of her jacket.

“Claudia?”

There was no answer.

She must be resting. I'll leave her alone and get right to work
.

The fire had been lit in the study, and the room was a welcome relief from the murky day outside. Robin pulled several cartons of books up to the desk and got busy.

As it had before, the room lulled her into a doze. With the fire crackling softly and the popping of the logs, with the burnished glow of the lamps and the gathering clouds beyond the window, Robin felt enclosed in a warm cocoon. Several times she nodded off and caught herself when her pen dropped from her hand. She fought to keep her eyes open, but the coziness was impossible to resist after such a restless night. At last she gave in to the temptation, cradling her head upon the desk, and she slept.

She wasn't sure what woke her.

Her eyes flew open, and as she caught a glimpse of the clock, she saw she'd been out for several hours. Her neck and back felt stiff. She groaned softly and turned her face to the other side.

She saw the odd-shaped thing as she lifted her head, but she didn't know what it was.

She saw it lying there, only inches from her cheek, and as she smelled the overpowering stench, she thought she knew now what had woken her.…

The hand was already in the stages of decay.

It lay there, fingers splayed out like a twisted claw, with a paintbrush wedged between them.

Dark spots had already crept over the torn flesh.…

Something was oozing slowly where its thumb should have been.

As Robin bolted upright and gagged, she saw Claudia suddenly appear in the doorway, rubbing sleep from her eyes, her lips forming a sad, welcoming sort of smile.

“Claudia …” Robin began.

Claudia's eyes jerked wide—her hands flew to her mouth and her shoulders convulsed like a macabre marionette.

And as both girls stared in horror at the thing on the desk, something whispered, something laughed a horrible laugh out of the empty shadows of the room.…

“No one can help you now.…”

I
t's a trick, Claudia, it's a trick!” Robin screamed, even though she knew the thing lying there on the desk was all too grisly, all too real—

“Oh, God, Claudia—”

She saw the girl take a step back, saw her hand grope blindly through the air as if seeking invisible aid.

“Claudia, listen to me—is there an intercom in here? A speaker of some kind? The voice has to be rigged some way—it's not really your mother—Claudia!”

But Claudia was doubled over, clutching her stomach, her face a blank white mask. Robin ran to her, eased the girl down onto the floor, and shook her by the shoulders.

“Claudia—listen to me! Someone's trying to hurt you—someone's trying to make you
think
your mother is after you! Do you understand? They're trying to make you
think
you're crazy, but you're
not!”

The girl's eyes were glazed and empty.

“Can you hear me?” Robin patted Claudia's hands, chafed her wrists, babbling to her the whole time. “I think it's Parker, Claudia—I think it's Parker doing all those horrible things. I told the police about it—maybe I shouldn't have, but I
had
to do something—and I told Walt, too—”

She broke off, fighting tears. “Oh, Claudia …”

Robin looked deep into the girl's eyes, but all she could see was her own hazy reflection surrounded by despair.

“Claudia,” Robin whispered, “I'm not going to let them hurt you! I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I'm going to get you out of here. Come on—you're going home with me.”

She managed to stand the girl up and turn her in the opposite direction. But as they took a step into the hall, something exploded behind them with such force that a wet spray of glass and splinters seemed to fill the room.

Claudia shrieked and covered her head with her arms, and at the same time Robin shoved the girl up against the corridor wall.

“Don't move!” Robin ordered her.

Alarmed, she raced back into the study. She could see the broken window by the desk, and the shards of shattered glass everywhere, and the torrents of rain pouring in, soaking everything in proximity. Her first thought was that someone had deliberately thrown something through the windowpane, but then she saw the huge tree limb showing through the wall, and she actually felt relieved.

“It's okay!” she called, turning back. “The storm must have uprooted a tree!”

She stepped on something squishy.

Horror-stricken, she looked down and saw the disembodied hand lying on the floor beneath her shoe.

Robin kicked the thing away, and yet still she stood there watching it, mesmerized somehow, as if she half expected the hand to come crawling back after her and clamp on to her ankle. And suddenly she could feel every instinct screaming within her—every nerve—every feeling in her whole body screaming at her—
Run! Run!
Slowly she inched toward the door, and then she made a bolt for the hallway, her only thought to get back to Claudia.

“Come on, Claudia—we're going—”

Robin stopped, her words frozen on her lips.

The corridor was empty.

Claudia was gone.

For one second of sheer panic, Robin didn't know what to do. She stood there gazing stupidly at the spot where Claudia had been, and from some remote corner of her mind she felt her feet moving her back toward the study, back to where she knew there was a telephone and a line to help.…

Robin's head came up and her body went rigid.

Somewhere in the house a door slammed.

It was a distant, muffled sound, buried beneath the wailing of the storm outside, but at the same instant she'd heard it, Robin had also heard something else.

A faint, brief cry.

Claudia calling for help?

It was enough to spur Robin to action.

She made her way fearfully along the hall. Again she heard the muffled slamming sound—and then again. As she came upon the arched threshold near the front of the passageway, a rush of damp air swirled out to meet her, and Robin realized she was just outside the room where she'd first met Mr. Swanson and talked about her job.
Only a few nights ago … it seems like forever
.…

The banging came again … louder now … more insistent.

The French doors, Robin thought suddenly.

Claudia came this way. Whoever took Claudia brought her here and out again through the French doors
.

Robin hurried into the room, her heart quickening. Two of the tall doors hadn't been fastened, and as the wind tore at them, they swung back and forth against the wall. Robin slipped between them and shut them firmly behind her.

It was gushing rain now.

As she stood there in despair and looked helplessly around her, all she could see was an endless tangle of trees and heavy mist and shadows.
They've gone into the woods.… I'll never find her now
.…

But she had to try.

She knew she'd never forgive herself if she didn't.

“Claudia!” she screamed.

The wind lashed her words away, as though she'd never screamed at all.

Robin stared at the twisted trees until she finally spotted a wide space off to one side.
There
…
they must have gone through there
. She pushed her wet hair from her face and ran for the opening.

The forest seemed to swallow her. As Robin pushed her way through a maze of trunks and branches, she didn't even notice the scratches on her face, the limbs tearing at her hair. Her jacket ripped, but she didn't hear; she felt blood on her lips and licked it away without realizing.

She pressed deeper and deeper into the woods. She forgot about the hidden holes, the sudden ditches and gulleys, the deceptive drifts of old, wet leaves. More than once she stumbled and pitched forward, scraping her hands, tearing her jeans, only to get up, catch her breath, and go on again. The ground was growing soggier—in most places the mud was up to her ankles now. It sucked at her, trying to drag her down, and just as she was about to give up in despair, she saw something in the path and stopped to pick it up.

Claudia's shoe.

“Claudia!” she screamed again. “Where are you?”

But of course Claudia wouldn't answer … she
couldn't
answer.

She'll be so terrified by now … if she isn't already dead—

“No,” Robin said savagely to herself, and she bit her lip, tasting salty tears and blood. “No, no, no!”

A fierce anger filled her, and she plunged on through the woods. The rain was coming down in buckets.

Robin had no idea where she was or how far she'd even come. She only knew that she had to find Claudia before it was too late.

“Claudia!” Robin shouted. “Where are you?”

And then she froze.

Through the thick gray gloom of the forest, she saw a shadow standing straight ahead of her … a tall silent statue among the trees.

She saw it for only a second—saw its dark, indistinct shape—yet she knew it was human.

And that it was watching her.

Robin's feet wouldn't move.

Her brain whirled, and she reached out for the nearest tree trunk to hold herself steady. She willed herself to go on, and as she began to plod forward again, the figure vanished into the fog.

I imagined it … I probably only imagined it
.…

Without warning her foot snagged, and she hurtled through the air, landing several feet away in the mud. She tried to get up but couldn't. She tried again but only slipped deeper into the muck. Twisting around, she spotted a fallen tree branch she thought she could use to boost herself back up. She reached out for it, groping clumsily through a soggy pile of leaves and mud.

Her fingers closed around something soft.

As her grip tightened, the thing seemed to pop softly within her hand and burst and slowly melt.

Startled, Robin pushed the hair back from her eyes so she could get a better look.

She stared down at the thing in her hand.

Stared …

And stared …

She saw the stump of the arm … and the rotting torso, all covered with greenish slime …

And as she felt bile come up in her own throat, she saw the maggots swarming over Vicki Hastings's mutilated face.

S
he's pretty, ain't she?” the voice said above her, and Robin rolled over with a scream.

“Real pretty.” Roy Skaggs stepped out of the trees, grinning, his arms folded across his chest.

Robin couldn't speak. She only stared at the tall figure towering above her and kept sliding backward through the mud, trying to get away from him.

“You're gonna look just like her.” His grin widened. “All nice and soft and tender to touch … just like girls are supposed to be, right?”

He made a move as though he would lean over to touch her, and Robin scooted out of his reach. She thought he might have laughed softly, deep, deep in his throat.

“Only one difference.” Skaggs shook his head, taking another step closer. “I didn't
mean
to hurt her. But I mean to
kill
you.”

He uncrossed his arms.

He had something in his hand, and as Robin stared, he held it out tantalizingly, over her head.

“See here?”

She could see. It was the photograph of herself, the one missing from the school bulletin board, and as she stared at it, Skaggs took a lighter from his pocket and held it to one corner of the picture. It hissed and curled, and a thin stream of smoke wafted up into the air as her photo face bubbled and blackened.

“All gone,” Skaggs said softly. “All … gone.”

Robin's mind was spinning so fast, the world turned black around her.

“You …” she mumbled. “I don't understand—where's Claudia?”