Lightning

blanket several times to make a pad on the floor, near the foot of Ruth's bed, and she lay on it with her pillow.
    From her own bed Rebecca Bogner said, "We're all going to get in trouble over this."
    "What're you afraid they'll do to us?" Thelma asked. "Stake us in the backyard, smear us with honey, and leave us for the ants?"
    Tammy was sleeping or pretending to sleep.
    Ruth turned out her light, and they settled down in darkness.
    The door flew open, and the overhead light snapped on. Dressed in a red robe, scowling fiercely, Miss Keist entered the room. "So! Laura, what're you doing here?"
    Rebecca Bogner groaned. "I
told
you we'd get in trouble."
    "Come back to your room right this minute, young lady."
    The swiftness with which Miss Keist appeared was suspicious, and Laura looked at Tammy Hinsen. The blonde was no longer feigning sleep. She was leaning on one elbow, smiling thinly. Evidently she had decided to assist the Eel in his quest for Laura, perhaps with the hope of regaining her status as his favorite.
    Miss Keist escorted Laura to her room. Laura got into bed, and Miss Keist stared at her for a moment. "It's warm. I'll open the window." Returning to the bed, she studied Laura thoughtfully. "Is there anything you want to tell me? Is anything wrong?"
    Laura considered telling her about the Eel. But what if Miss Keist waited to catch the Eel as he crept into her room, and what if he didn't show? Laura would never be able to accuse the Eel again because she'd have a
history
of accusing him; no one would take her seriously. Then even if Sheener raped her, he'd get away with it.
    "No, nothing's wrong," she said.
    Miss Keist said, "Thelma's too sure of herself for a girl her age, full of false sophistication. If you're foolish enough to break the rules again just to have an all-night gabfest, develop some friends worth taking the risk for."
    "Yes, ma'am," Laura said just to get rid of her, sorry that she had even considered responding to the woman's moment of concern.
    After Miss Keist left, Laura did not get out of bed and flee. She lay in darkness, certain there would be another bed check in half an hour. Surely the Eel would not slither around until midnight, and it was only ten, so between Miss Keist's next visit and the Eel's arrival, she'd have plenty of time to get to a safe place.
    Far, far away in the night, thunder grumbled. She sat up in bed. Her guardian! She threw back the covers and ran to the window. She saw no lightning. The distant rumble faded. Perhaps it had not been thunder after all. She waited ten minutes or more, but nothing else happened. Disappointed, she returned to bed.
    Shortly after ten-thirty the doorknob creaked. Laura closed her eyes, let her mouth fall open, and feigned sleep.
    Someone stepped quietly across the room, stood beside the bed.
    Laura breathed slowly, evenly, deeply, but her heart was racing.
    It was Sheener. She
knew
it was him. Oh, God, she had forgotten he was insane, that he was unpredictable, and now he was here earlier than she'd expected, and he was preparing the hypodermic. He'd jam her into a burlap sack and carry her away as if he was a brain-damaged Santa Claus come to steal children rather than leave gifts.
    The clock ticked. The cool breeze rustled the curtains.
    At last the person beside the bed retreated. The door closed.
    It had been Miss Keist, after all.
    Trembling violently, Laura got out of bed and pulled on her robe. She folded the blanket over her arm and left the room without slippers because she would make less noise if she was barefoot.
    She could not return to the Ackersons' room. Instead she went to the north stairs, cautiously opened the door, and stepped onto the dimly lit landing. She listened for the sound of the Eel's footsteps below. She descended warily, expecting to encounter Sheener, but she reached the ground floor safely.
    Shivering as the cool tile floor imparted its chill to her bare feet, she took refuge in the game room. She didn't turn on the lights but relied on the ghostly glow of the streetlamps that penetrated the windows and silvered the edges of the furniture. She eased past chairs and game tables, bedding down on her folded blanket behind the sofa.
    She dozed fitfully, waking repeatedly from nightmares. The old mansion was filled with stealthy sounds in the night: the creaking of floorboards overhead, the hollow popping of ancient plumbing.
8
    Stefan turned out all the lights and waited in the bedroom that was