“Yes, there are many rocks of various sizes within arm’s length.”
“Good. Hand me the biggest one ya can reach.”
Lovecraft strained himself as he contorted his body to reach outside without shifting his body. He picked up a stone about the size of a golf ball and handed it back to Howard.
“Ya got anything a little bigger out there? This is gonna take a while at this rate.”
The next stone was a bit larger.
“Bigger!”
The next one was the size of a large grapefruit.
“Bigger, dammit!”
“Bob, how large a stone does it require to-ah! I see. Your plan is to compensate for our weight so that we may exit the vehicle and pull it back to safety. Very clever. Very clever, indeed. Given your pugilistic impulses, I assumed you would smash the rear window and climb out.”
“Thanks. I ain’t plannin’ to wreck my car any more than I need to. How much do ya weigh?”
Lovecraft struggled to pull a large rock in and hand it back. “Oh, I’d venture eleven stone, eleven stone and six.”
Howard grabbed the rock impatiently. “That’s good, HP. That’s good that you can keep your sense of humor at a time like this.”
“Bob, I can assure you that I find absolutely nothing about our current predicament the least bit amusing.” ,
“In pounds. How much do you weigh in pounds? You know, the way we weigh things in America.”
“I’m sorry if my affinity for things English offends you. Approximately one hundred sixty pounds.”
“A middleweight, huh? That’s lighter than I thought ya’d be, seein’ the set of your jaw and all.”
“I’m sorry to hear that my facial disfigurement gives you the wrong impression,” Lovecraft replied with no small measure of sarcasm. He continued to bring in as many large rocks as he could with the minimum of bodily motion. It wasn’t long before his arm was trembling from exhaustion, the muscle thick and limp.
In the back, Howard mentally weighed each rock before stacking them as far back as possible, jamming as many as he could between the lower and back cushions of the seat.
“I have procured all stones within reasonable reach,” said Lovecraft. “Okay, we’re still gonna need more. Reach over to the driver’s door and let’s see how many ya can get.”
Lovecraft dwelt momentarily on the indignity of having to crawl over Glory’s lap, but as he laid himself across her thighs, with her warm and softly heaving belly pressed against his shoulder, her breasts slightly touching the top of his back, he found himself wanting to pause in that importunate embrace. He could see himself curling into a semicircle and relaxing into that maternal comfort, into a quiet and restful sleep, but at the moment, he had a task to perform for Howard, and he had no choice but to do as he was instructed.
WHEN THEY HAD finally collected enough stones for Howard to feel safe, Lovecraft slowly crawled out of the car on his belly, getting his already-rumpled clothes covered in dirt and dust. He paused to assess the situation, quickly walking to the other side of the car, stepping back from the cliff’s edge to get perspective. It was less precarious than he had imagined from inside, but still quite dangerous all the same. The look on Howard’s face made him decide to keep the assessment to himself.
Lovecraft moved to the back of the car and called loudly, “I shall sit on the rear bumper. That should provide adequate counterweight to permit your egress if you are careful.”
“What about Glory?”
“Given the fact that she remained unconscious throughout my awkward endeavor to cross her body, I imagine she will remain in that condition for a little while longer.”
Lovecraft turned his back to the car and found a solid but uncomfortable perch on the rear bumper. He could feel weight shifting inside as Howard made his way over the seat and out of the passenger side as gingerly as possible.
Howard dusted himself off and immediately opened the trunk to rummage in its black interior. He produced a coil of rope and drew out a length, stepping back for a moment to decide on a place from which to brace himself. “Come on, HP, we gotta do this quick, before she wakes up.”
Lovecraft, exhausted from all the rock lifting, wanted to rest a while. “Is it not wise for me to maintain my weight here to counterbalance Glory?”
Howard returned to the car and knelt between Lovecraft’s legs to loop the rope around the middle of the bumper, seemingly oblivious of the awkward pose they were striking. “You stay put till I’m ready,” he mumbled.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I’m gonna pull here, and when the rope’s nice and tight, you jump down and lend a hand.”
“I shall apologize in advance for my fatigue.”
“Never mind and just help, all right?” Howard got up and walked backwards, playing the rope out until he found a good spot to brace himself for leverage. He pulled the slack tight, planted his feet, and motioned to Lovecraft, who skipped down rather daintily for a man of his size.
While Lovecraft put both hands on the rope and tugged on it, leaning back with his weight, Howard turned his back to the car, braced the rope over his shoulder and, grunting with the effort, pulled as if he were a horse, wincing when he heard the sound of the undercarriage scraping against the rocky ground. Lovecraft was amazed that they were able to move the vehicle at all, and when all four wheels were back on solid ground he called out for Howard to stop before he dragged the car all the way into the middle of the highway.
Howard coiled the rope as he made his way back to the car. Then he reached over Glory’s still-unconscious form and set the brake. “You wanna wake her up, be my guest,” he said.
Lovecraft pondered the problem for a minute as he dusted his own clothes, cringing at the thought of how he’d look by the light of day. “Let me think out loud for the two of us,” he said. “If we were to keep her in this unconscious state and drive on, since our mission is an urgent one, we would obtain a certain advantage. And yet, if she were to wake, once again possessed, with some preternatural strength and aggression she were to expend upon us, then we would certainly suffer a setback. At least. Therefore, the conclusion is only logical. We shall wake her now, ascertain her state of mind, and bind her, if necessary, with the very rope you hold in your hands.”
“Go ahead and wake her then,” said Howard, looking down at the rope.
Lovecraft leaned over Glory, lifted her head off the seat back with one hand, and lightly slapped her face with the other. He slapped her again, slightly harder, then harder still until her eyes fluttered open and she sat up, disoriented.
“What? What happened? Why are the two of you staring at me like that?”
Lovecraft and Howard looked at each other, temporarily at a loss, and then Lovecraft said, “Miss McKenna, I’m afraid you have once again fallen, albeit briefly, under the influence of the sinister forces which are ever more determined to prevent us from reaching our destination.”
Howard could see from Glory’s glazed expression that she wasn’t fully lucid-at least not enough to understand his friend’s ponderousdiction. “You got possessed again and just about damn near killed us. That’s why we’re staring at ya.”
“Oh,” Glory said, rather matter-of-factly. “Is that all?”
A few minutes later, when Glory had regained her composure and Howard had finished inspecting the car’s undercarriage for damage, Lovecraft handed the rope to Howard.
“HP…”
“It is the logical thing.”
Howard looked at Glory, then at the rope, his expression partially hidden in the darkness. His thoughts were so clear he might as well have pantomimed the dilemma.
“Here,” Glory said, offering her wrists. “I want you to tie me up in the backseat until we get to where we’re going.”