Dead Until Dark

couldn’t remember if I’d seen the rifle since then. But it would have been hard to have casually strolled out of the crowded, busy house with a rifle. And if it had vanished then, I thought I would have noticed its absence by now. In fact, I was almost sure I would have.
    I had to shove that aside now and concentrate on outwitting whatever was out there in the dark.
    I opened the back door. I duckwalked out, keeping as low as I could, and gently eased the door nearly shut behind me. Rather than use the steps, I straightened one leg and tapped the ground while squatting on the porch; I shifted my weight to it, pulled the other leg behind me. I crouched again. This was a lot like playing hide-and-seek with Jason in the woods when we were kids.
    I prayed I was not playing hide-and-seek with Jason again.
    I used the tub full of flowers that Gran had planted as cover first, then I crept to her car, my second goal. I looked up in the sky. The moon was full, and since the night was clear the stars were out. The air was heavy with humidity, and it was still hot. My arms were slick with sweat in minutes.
    Next step, from the car to the mimosa tree.
    I wasn’t as quiet this time. I tripped over a stump and hit the ground hard. I bit the inside of my mouth to keep from crying out. Pain shot through my leg and hip, and I knew the edges of the ragged stump had scraped my thigh pretty severely. Why hadn’t I come out and sawed that stump off clean? Gran had asked Jason to do it, but he’d never found the time.
    I heard, sensed, movement. Throwing caution to the wind, I leaped up and dashed for the trees. Someone crashed through the edge of the woods to my right and headed for me. But I knew where I was going, and in a vault that amazed me, I’d seized the low branch of our favorite childhood climbing tree and pulled myself up. If I lived until the next day, I’d have severely strained muscles, but it would be worth it. I balanced on the branch, trying to keep my breathing quiet, when I wanted to pant and groan like a dog dreaming.
    I wished this were a dream. Yet here I undeniably was, Sookie Stackhouse, waitress and mind reader, sitting on a branch in the woods in the dead of night, armed with nothing more than a pocketknife.
    Movement below me; a man glided through the woods. He had a length of cord hanging from one wrist. Oh, Jesus. Though the moon was almost full, his head stayed stubbornly in the shadow of the tree, and I couldn’t tell who it was. He passed underneath without seeing me.
    When he was out of sight, I breathed again. As quietly as I could, I scrambled down. I began working my way through the woods to the road. It would take a while, but if I could get to the road maybe I could flag someone down. Then I thought of how seldom the road got traveled; it might be better to work my way across the cemetery to Bill’s house. I thought of the cemetery at night, of the murderer looking for me, and I shivered all over.
    Being even more scared was pointless. I had to concentrate on the here and now. I watched every foot placement, moving slowly. A fall would be noisy in this undergrowth, and he’d be on me in a minute.
    I found the dead cat about ten yards southeast of my perching tree. The cat’s throat was a gaping wound. I couldn’t even tell what color its fur had been in the bleaching effect of the moonlight, but the dark splotches around the little corpse were surely blood. After five more feet of stealthy movement, I found Bubba. He was unconscious or dead. With a vampire it was hard to tell the difference. But with no stake through his heart, and his head still on, I could hope he was only unconscious.
    Someone had brought Bubba a drugged cat, I figured. Someone who had known Bubba was guarding me and had heard of Bubba’s penchant for draining cats.
    I heard a crackle behind me. The snap of a twig. I glided into the shadow of the nearest large tree. I was mad, mad and scared, and I wondered if I would die this night.
    I might not have the rifle, but I had a built-in tool. I closed my eyes and reached out with my mind.
    Dark tangle, red, black. Hate.
    I flinched. But this was necessary, this was my only protection. I let down every shred of defense.
    Into my head poured images that made me sick, made me terrified. Dawn, asking someone to punch her, then finding out that he’d got one of her hose in his hand, was stretching it between his fingers, preparing to tighten it around her neck. A flash of