"But what if he attacks us?"
"Just don't hurt him. Keep the net between you and the boy. We'll get him tangled in it. After that, we shouldn't have much problem."
Slaughter looked at Dunlap again, hoping that Dunlap understood how clear and cautious every order had been. He squinted from the headlights aimed toward the porch. He saw the mother and the father, and they still weren't in their car. He saw the woman from the Potter's Field Historical Society, the other cruisers that had gotten here not long ago, the headlights of another cruiser speeding up the gravel driveway.
"Well, we've got enough men. Let's do it."
But the headlights weren't another cruiser. Slaughter recognized the car. It was the medical examiner's, and Slaughter told them, "Wait a second," as he stepped from the porch.
The medical examiner got out of his car and rushed forward.
"Where have you been? I've been looking-" Slaughter stopped talking when he saw the blood across the man's shirt, the mangled lips. "What happened to your face?"
"There isn't time to explain. I know this thing's a virus, but I'm not sure if it's rabies."
"Is it just as bad?"
"It's maybe worse. It seems to work much faster. There's a dog that passed through one stage of the virus sooner than it should have. We're still doing tests."
"Well, what about this boy up there?"
The medical examiner winced as he heard the howling from the upper stories. "That's a boy who's doing that?" His face was twisted with the shock of disbelief.
"I have to think it is. There could be some stray dog up there, but we don't have a reason to believe that."
"God, I once heard someone sound like that."
"A case of rabies?"
"Back in med school. But the other symptoms weren't the same as this. A victim of rabies might get vicious, even bark and snap at someone."
"Bark?"
"The muscles in the neck constrict. The person tries to talk, but all the words come out like barking."
"This is howling."
"That's exactly what I mean. The symptoms aren't the same. It sounds more like an animal. Besides, I never heard of anyone with rabies who had actually attacked someone. Oh, I read cases in the medical books but never met a doctor who'd actually seen it happen."
"Then we don't know any more than when we started."
"That's not true. We know there's something, and we're fairly certain it's contagious."
"But the parents claim the boy was never bitten."
"Sure, and I just saw a dog that had its shots, and now it's dead back at the vet's."
The howling started again.
"Damn. I should have thought. The moon," the medical examiner said.
"Now you've lost me."
"Look at it." He pointed toward the almost full moon that was shining toward the mansion. 'That symptom is at least consistent. Victims of rabies are enraged by light. Their eyes are sensitive. They seek out darkness. When the moon rises, they start reacting to it."
"Howling?"
"Rapid dogs will, and in this case one small boy."
"They say he cut his hand on glass this morning."
"That's too soon. It takes about a week before the rabies virus starts to show symptoms. But if this thing is quicker than the normal virus, if the glass had been licked by an infected animal, that would be enough to transmit it. When you catch the boy, the first thing I want to do is see that cut."
The howls were rising.
"It's like something, someone, crazy," Slaughter told him.
"Lunacy, they used to call it. Madness from the moon."
Slaughter didn't want to talk about this anymore. "I've got to go in after him."
"I'll bring my bag."
"We'll need it." Slaughter hurried up the stone steps to his men. "Is everybody ready?"
They nodded tensely.
"Keep your gloves on. Rettig, hold the net at that end. You three hold it at the other end and in the middle. Just remember. No one hurt him."
Slaughter looked at Dunlap again to make sure he'd heard, and they started in.
Dunlap followed.
"No, you stay out here," Slaughter told him.
"But I want to see the end of this."
"I don't have time to keep you safe from trouble. I've got plenty as it is to think about."
"I'll stay back out of danger."
"You're damned right you will. You'll stay there on the porch."
"You're hiding something, Slaughter."
For the first time, Slaughter felt enraged by him. "I beg your pardon?"
"You heard what I said. You're not sure you can keep your men controlled. You don't want someone like me up there to see trouble."
"I've had just about enough from-"
"Parsons told you to cooperate."
"About the commune but not this. He doesn't even know about this."
"But he'll be damned mad if you screw up his p.r. tactics. Look, you need as many witnesses as you can get. I've handled this about as well as anybody. I've been helping."
Slaughter couldn't stand here arguing. He squinted at the headlights, at the medical examiner approaching, and abruptly made his choice. "All right, I'm going to take a chance on you. The first time you get in the way, you'll find your ass out on the porch."
"That's what I figured."
"Then we understand each other." Slaughter turned to the medical examiner. "You'll need these gloves."
"Hey, I will too," Dunlap said.
"You won't be close enough to need them."
They crossed the long, wide hallway toward the curving staircase. Men were spread out at the bottom, the net before them.
"Ready with your flashlights?" Slaughter asked.
They nodded, turning on the flashlights, beams arcing up the stairs. He heard their breathing and smelled their sweat.
"Okay, let's do it."
Footsteps shuffling, scraping, they started, the net spread out before them, up the staircase.
ELEVEN
It was waiting for them. It had scurried to the final landing. Now it heard their footsteps and their whispers, saw their sweeping flashlight beams. They still were quite a distance down there, but in time they would be up here, and it hissed as it swung in search of cover.
But there weren't any rooms behind it, just this one big open space that stretched from end to end. It didn't understand, although it did retain a far off memory of someone who'd explained this. There were slight projections from each corner, spaces behind, but these would be too obvious. It needed something else. And then it saw what it was looking for. A perfect hiding place and one it could attack from if it had to.
It was scurrying to reach the place, and all the while, it kept glancing at the glow that swept in through the window and spread cold and pale across the floor. It started howling again. It couldn't stop itself, was powerless to fight the urge, just crouched there, head up, howling long and high, its throat constricted painfully, and then the urge had been relieved, and it was scurrying.
The darkness in this hiding place was wonderful, the blackness soothing and secure. It closed its eyes to rest them after all the strain of squinting at that cold pale glow that spilled in through the windows. It was breathing quickly, nervous even though the hiding place was comforting. It licked its lips and tasted yet again the scabs of blood that clung in specks against its mouth. That salt taste that it now had grown accustomed to and even had begun to crave. But the salt taste had been liquid, and that recollection made it gag again. Nonetheless it wanted that warm sweetly salted liquid. It was caught in oppositions, both attracted and repelled, and without conscious effort, it was howling even more fiercely.