Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“Well, we all grow and change,” she said, forcing herself to sound conversational, like they were at a reunion together instead of trapped inside this stinking cabin. She smiled politely but inside, she was wondering if she was fast enough to roll off the bed and grab the shotgun. But…she had never shot a shotgun before, or any gun for that matter. What if the safety was on? Did a gun like that have a safety? And if so, where was it? What if she grabbed it and then couldn’t get it to work?
“We do…we certainly do grow and change, darlin’,” Luke agreed amiably. “Though I must say, I think I’ve grown and changed more than most.”
“How…how do you mean?” Mattie asked, trying to keep up her end of the conversation.
“Well, I’ve found my calling for one thing,” Luke said, smiling.
“Uh…working at the hardware store?” Mattie asked uneasily.
“Huh? Oh no—I just do that to help out my old man and keep up appearances,” Luke told her. “No, I’m talking about my art.”
“Oh. I, uh, didn’t know you were an artist.” Mattie forced the words out. She would have thought that after spending some time in the cabin, she would get used to the stench. But no, it smelled worse than ever. She didn’t know how long she could stand it without puking.
“Oh, I am—I’m a true artist,” Luke assured her. “Would you like to see some of my art?”
“Uh, sure. Yes…yes, I’d love to see your art,” Mattie said, trying to sound enthusiastic. After all, looking at his “art” whatever it was, certainly beat being raped or murdered by him.
“Great! Then let me build up the fire so you can see,” Luke told her.
He turned to throw some wood on the fire, which blazed up immediately.
Mattie had been thinking of going for the gun again but what she saw when the flames went higher, sending more light into the room, froze her to the spot.
The “rock collection” lined up on the shelf over the mantelpiece was suddenly revealed. Only it wasn’t rocks…the objects she had taken for rocks with moss growing on them were human heads and the “moss” was hair.
Female heads—all of them, Mattie thought with growing horror. This must be where the terrible stench was coming from. Because some of the heads were rotting—obviously they had been taken quite recently. The heads at the far end of the collection were long dead and dried—their skin taut against the hollows of the skull bones beneath. But the ones closest to her were fresh—or fresher, anyway.
She wanted to look away but she couldn’t—couldn’t drag her eyes from all those blank, dead staring faces. How could she have not seen them before? Surely it wasn’t that dark in the cabin.
My mind must have been protecting me, she thought numbly. Not letting me see—making me think they were rocks.
But her mind couldn’t play that little trick anymore—what she was seeing was impossible to unsee and Mattie was desperately afraid she would always have this terrible image behind her eyes. She would see Luke’s “art collection” everywhere she went…she would dream about it at night…she would—
And then, at the very end, she saw something that nearly made her scream.
The latest head in the collection had long, blonde hair and a horrified expression on its face.
It was Amanda.
FORTY-TWO
GRATH
“A domicile made of wood with an aura of evil,” Grath muttered to himself. “But what does that look like? Where is it? Where? Can’t see a damn thing through all this snow!”
He was scanning the viewscreen anxiously, flying perilously close to the treetops. Christmasville might be a small town, but the forest surrounding it was huge. It seemed like he’d been flying over it, back and forth, looking for the sign the Goddess had promised to send him forever—though it was really just minutes. But every minute felt like an hour when he knew Madeline was in danger.
“I can’t find it, damn it!” he swore, pounding the steering yoke with frustration. “Goddess, help me!”
He hadn’t actually expected an answer to his shouted prayer, so he was surprised when the warm, feminine presence filled his small shuttle and the Goddess’s voice spoke in his ear.
“Release your grip on the steering yoke, Protector, and I will guide your ship.”
Release the yoke? In the middle of a blizzard when he was already flying blind? Grath froze for a moment, his hands locked on the steering mechanism. But there was no other way to get to Mattie—he had to have faith.
Closing his eyes, he took his hands off the yoke.
“Yes, Goddess,” he breathed. “Guide me—take me where you need me to be.”
“Very good, Protector—your faith shall be the saving of your female,” the Goddess murmured in his ear.
And then the ship began to descend.
FORTY-THREE
MATTIE
“Don’t scream, daughter!” the mysterious voice whispered in Mattie’s ear. “I know it is difficult, but you must not show your horror.”