She shook her head. "I can't! How —?"
"We'll make a new life far from here. We'll head west and won't stop till we reach the ocean." He could see her wavering. "Please, Steph! I don't think I can make it without you!"
Finally, she nodded.
He took her hand and pulled her along behind him as he raced down the slope for the gatehouse. He glanced back at the old house and saw flames dancing in the second floor windows. Somebody down in town would see the light from the fire soon and then half the town would be up here to either fight it or watch it being fought. They had to be out of here before that.
It's gonna be okay, he told himself. They'd start a new life out in California. And someday, when he had the nerve and he thought she was ready for it, he'd tell her the truth. But for now, as long as Steph was at his side, he could handle anything. Everything was going to be all right.
Patrolman Grimes looked better now. He was back from the couple's apartment and stood in the hospital corridor with an open notebook, ready to recite.
"All right," Burke said. "What've we got?"
"We've got a twenty-three-year-old named Jerome Pritchard. Came out here from West Virginia nine months ago."
"I mean drugs — crack, Angel Dust, needles, fixings."
"No, sir. The apartment was clean. The neighbors are in absolute shock. Everybody loved the Pritchards and they all seem to think he was a pretty straight guy. A real churchgoer — carried his own Bible and never missed a Sunday, they said. Had an assembly line job and talked about starting night courses at UCLA as soon as he made the residency requirement. He and his wife appeared to be real excited about the baby, going to Lamaze classes and all that sort of stuff."
"Crack, I tell you!" Burke said. "Got to be!"
"As far as we can trace his movements, sir, it seems that after the baby was delivered at 10:06 this morning, he ran out of here like a bat out of hell, came back about an hour later carrying his Bible and a big oblong package, waited until the baby was brought to the mother for feeding, then… well, you know."
"Yeah. I know." The new father had pulled a 10 gauge shotgun from that package and blown the mother and kid away, then put the barrel against his own throat and completed the job. "But why, dammit!"
"Well… the baby did have a birth defect."
"I know. I saw. But there are a helluva lot of birth defects a damn sight worse. Hell, I mean, her legs were only withered a little!"
MR. RIGHT
Richard Christian Matheson
The young woman wept, "He's such an absolute bastard, doctor. He does the most horrible things."
The doctor shifted in the chair and continued to take notes. "What made you decide to come in and talk?"
The woman hesitated.
"Because he's gotten worse," she said. "Last night he asked me to fix him something to eat." Her mouth pulled downward. "He had me heat the stew until it was burning hot, then suddenly got angry about something."
The woman's voice began to shudder.
"Before I could protect myself, he grabbed my hands and held them over the stove." She held up raw palms, covered with salve.
The doctor cringed a little. "Did you call the police?"
"No. He yanked the phone out of the wall, then he beat me with his belt." She rubbed at her arms. "My whole body is covered with welts."
"How long has this been going on?" the doctor asked.
The woman gestured shakily.
"I can't remember. Three years. Maybe more."
"Have you tried to leave him?"
"Every day," the woman answered, trying to steady herself, "But he finds me. I try to turn him away but what he does to me in bed…"
The doctor looked up from the notes. "Can you be more specific? It's important that I understand what you're going through. It's the first step in a successful treatment."
The woman looked at the doctor uneasily.
"Last night…"
"Yes…?"
"… last night, after he beat me up, he tied me to the bedposts in the bedroom." She drew shallow breath. "Then he raped me."
The doctor swallowed.
"It was horrible but at the same time it was wonderful. He does things like I've never had any man do." For the first time, the woman showed signs of a smile. "Incredible things. Like a fantasy come true."
The doctor jotted notes. "Can you describe the things he does?"
The woman fell into uncomfortable silence.
"I couldn't, it's so intimate. I just couldn't."
The doctor nodded. "When you're ready."
Unexpectedly, the woman's face tensed.
"Doctor, I'm so scared. He's so crazy and I can't make myself pull away."
The doctor made a sympathetic sound and continued to listen.
"He's killed two of my dogs and last week he killed an entire litter of my cat's kittens with a knife." The woman's eyes shut tightly. "When he was a boy, he battered a rabbit to death with a hammer. And he's done even more horrible things. He's told me."
Was there no end? thought the doctor.
"He tried to poison a friend of mine because she kept begging him to sleep with her and bothering him." The woman's cheekbones quivered. "He sent her candies and signed the card from her children. They were filled with arsenic. She's dying right now." The woman held her head. "Nerve damage."
The doctor set the note pad on the desk.
"Listen to me. You must leave this man, immediately. Today."
"But he makes me feel things that no man has. Maybe if I compromise. Maybe you could talk to him."
"No. I'll call him for you," the doctor said, "but I'll lie. I'll tell him that I've had you moved to a hospital in another part of the country. I want you on a plane today."
The doctor touched the woman's hand.
"You must escape him. There's no room for compromise. This man is sick. He shouldn't be allowed around sane people."
The woman tightened her grasp on the doctor's hand like a child seeking protection. "You don't think that what he makes me feel in bed is the truth?" she asked. "Maybe he really does love me?"
The doctor shook the woman's hand, insistently.
"No! You must believe me. Your time may be running out."
"Other women have responded in the same way," the woman continued, as if to justify her plight. "He brings them all to ecstasy."
The doctor pressed a buzzer on the desk and interrupted the woman, who was beginning to cry again. "I want you to make a one-way reservation to Honolulu," the doctor told the secretary. "In Miss Shubert's name… for today."
The doctor took hold of the woman's shoulders.
"Now listen to me. I want you to go home and pack, take a cab to the airport and leave today. Call me when you get there. It's the only way you'll survive this maniac."
The woman looked up at the doctor with defenseless eyes and nodded.
"Good," said the doctor.
Fifteen minutes after Miss Shubert's flight had taken off, the doctor sat overlooking the city, completing notes. The buzzer sounded on one of the phone extensions and the doctor pushed down the lit button.
"Yes? This is Miss Shubert's psychiatrist," said the doctor. "No, I don't know where she is. She left today without a word. But I'm glad I reached you. I think you're somebody I'd really like to get to know."
The doctor trembled, running hands through her own hair, imagining the first thing he'd do to her.