It would not last, though. He sensed that too. It would not hold together. This would only be temporary.
He walked into a woman who had had her arms ripped off. They smacked foreheads, hard, and he wanted to apologize to her, but he could not.
He backed up, moved to the right, kept walking.
The streets were deserted, and they made it back to Holbrook's with no problem. Kevin did not know how big the explosion had been or whether the fire had spread to the warehouse, but he knew that no fire trucks had gone rushing to the scene and he considered that a good sign.
But where would they go from here? Even if they had succeeded in destroying all bottles of Daneam wine-- which he doubted--why couldn't the bacchantes just get wine from another vineyard? Hell, there were some eighty five wineries in the valley at last count. It wouldn't be that hard.
Even if that wasn't possible, even if their access to alcohol had been completely denied, that didn't mean that they'd automatically die or disappear.
They would probably just be pissed off.
And he didn't want to be here when that happened.
Holbrook parked the car in the driveway, and Kevin turned to look at the teacher. He had never much liked Holbrook, and he liked him even less now. He'd been so smug and superior when he'd lectured them about Dionysus and the maenads, when he'd bragged about belonging to his secret society, but the only plan he'd come up with had been to burn down some buildings--and he couldn't have pulled that off without Penelope.
Besides, he wanted to get into Penelope's pants.
Holbrook looked back at him, and Kevin turned away. He didn't know how he knew that, but he did. The teacher might pretend to be asexual and all business, totally above pretty concerns, but Kevin had seen the way he'd looked at Penelope back at the winery, and he knew what that look meant.
Maybe it wasn't Penelope herself. Maybe he jus wanted to know what it was like to fuck a maenad.
Either way, Kevin didn't like it.
He got out of the car. "So was that the Ovarians' plan? he said.
"Burning down the winery?"
"Ovidians," Holbrook said. "And no, that was my ov idea."
"So what do we do now?"
"I have an idea."
"What is it?"
"You'll see." They walked into the house, and Holbrook started down the hallway toward his basement|f "I'll be back in a minute!" he called.
Kevin looked at Penelope. "You think we accomplished! anything?"
"I don't know."
"There were a hell of a lot of people there. I don't seel how we even made a dent."
"It's not just Dionysus--Dion--that's making them this! way. It's the wine. Our wine. That's why they were shipping it out."
"What's so special about your wine?"
"I don't know," Penelope admitted.
They moved over to the couch, sat down. They did notl sit down next to each other, but they did not purposely sitf at opposite ends of the couch either, and Kevin was i acutely aware of the fact that their hands, resting on thej cushion, were almost touching.
He wanted to get into her pants too.
Yes, he had to admit it. He was attracted to Penelope, I and there was probably a bit of jealousy tied up with his j feelings about Holbrook.
He felt guilty about wanting hen She was Dion's; girlfriend, and even though Dion had turned into a monster god, he still owed it to his friend not to steal his] girlfriend.
Not that he could steal her. She was obviously still in love with Dion.
He looked toward Penelope, then glanced down the hallway, frowning.
Something was wrong. He didn't;
know what it was, but he could sense it, and he suddenly felt uneasy.
"Jack," Penelope said, as if reading his mind.
That was it.
The policeman had stopped screaming.
He stood up. It could be coincidence. Jack could be sleeping it off, getting over it. But Holbrook had been downstairs a hell of a lot longer than the promised minute, and Kevin had the feeling there was something seriously amiss.
He turned toward Penelope, who was also standing. "Where are the keys?"
he asked. "The keys to our car, the Mercedes?"
"In my pocket." She met his gaze.
"Be ready," he said.
They started toward the hallway, walking quietly, listening. There were no sounds at all, and that frightened him. He had been planning to ask Penelope to go outside and start the car, to be ready to take off instantly if something had happened to Holbrook if something else was down there --but he was not brave enough to go into the basement alone, and he did not object to her coming along.
They reached the door to the basement.
The lights were off downstairs.
"Holbrook!" he called.
No answer.
He looked to his left, toward the end of the hall, and noticed for the first time that while the door to the back bedroom appeared to be closed, it was not There was a crack of orangish late afternoon sunlight between the door and the doorjamb.
Jack had escaped.
"Jack!" he called.
No answer.
"Let's get out of here," Penelope whispered.
Kevin reached around the doorframe to turn on the basement light. The switch was already up.
"Enough proof for me," he said. "Let's bail."
Downstairs, someone moaned.
They looked at each other. "One of them's hurt or it'jj a trap," Kevin said. "There's only two choices here."
"What do you want to do? You call it."
He looked down into the darkness, took a deep breath| "Start the car,"
he said. "Be ready to roll."
She nodded. "Don't wait. If there's something wrong get out."
He smiled at her. "I have no problem with that."
Penelope sped down the hall, and Kevin gathered his courage and started down the steps. "Holbrook!" he called. "Jack!"
The moan came again.
He hurried down the stairs, stopping at the bottom. Inj the darkness at the opposite end of the basement he saw| trolls: short, hairy creatures clutching pine cone-tipp spears.-He squinted into the dimness and saw that the fig-j ures were not trolls after all.
They were Penelope's mothers.
As one the naked woman rose from their collective;! crouch. They were filthy, covered with mud and bloody grime and wine. Their ratted, uncombed hair stuck outj wildly in all directions, and it was this that in the darkness had given them that hairy, inhuman look.
He would have known better how to react had they not! been human, had they really been monsters. But somehowj this revelation was even more frightening, and he found himself unable to act, rooted in place by shock.
On the floor behind them was a pulpy red mess that had| to be either Jack or Holbrook.
Or both.
The women laughed, jabbering in some foreign language.
He went through his options quickly: he could try tol find a weapon, he could try to fight them, he could run.|
He ran.
He took the steps three at a time and sped down the hallway with the sound of the maenads screaming in back of him. He ran outside, slamming the front door behind him, and rushed to where Penelope was waiting in the idlj ing car. "Go!" he screamed.
They took off.
They sped down the street, Penelope accelerating so fast that he was thrown back into the seat before he could get his safety belt on. "Where to?" she asked.
He was still breathing heavily, his heart pounding, and he could not speak. He shook his head.
"Don't worry," she said. "We'll find something."
Penelope lay in the darkness, staring upward.
They were holed up in a small apartment at the north end of the city, in the last unit of a single-story complex that faced away from the street.
Kevin's screwdriver had still been in the car, but everything else had been left behind at Holbrook's and they'd been unable to find any other weapons save a couple of butter knives and a pair of scissors.