The Cove

and higher above that beautiful lawn, flying away from the horror of this place, the horror of him. Then she wasn't flying anymore. She heard screams and knew it was she who was screaming. Then she felt the pain drag at her, pulling her down, down, until there was blackness and beautiful nothingness.

    But the screaming went on. That wasn't right. She was unconscious, no longer screaming.

    Another scream jerked her awake. Sally reared up in bed, straining to hear those screams. They'd been here, in The Cove, in Amabel's house, not in her dream back there. She didn't move, just waited, waited. A cat? No, it was human, a cry of pain, she knew it was. God knew, she'd heard enough cries of pain in the last year.

    Who? Amabel? She didn't want to move, but she made herself slip out from under the three blankets Amabel had piled on top of her at nine o'clock the previous evening. It was freezing in the small guest room and black as the bottom of a witch's cauldron. Sally didn't have a bathrobe, just her long Lanz flannel nightgown. Scott had hated her nightgowns, he hated... no, forget Scott. He truly didn't matter, hadn't mattered in a very long time. The room was very dark. She made her way to the door and gently shoved it open. The narrow hallway was just as dark. She waited, waited longer, not wanting to hear that cry again, but knowing she would. It was a cry of pain. Perhaps there had been surprise in it. She couldn't be sure now. She waited. It was just a matter of time. She walked in her sock feet toward Amabel's bedroom.

    She stumbled when she heard another cry, her hip hitting a table. This cry came from outside. She was sure of it. It wasn't Amabel; thank God, she was safe. Amabel would know what to do.

    What was it? She rubbed her hip as she set the table against the wall again.

    Suddenly Amabel's bedroom door flew open. "What's going on? Is that you, Sally?"

    "Yes, Amabel," she whispered. "I heard someone cry out and thought it was you. What is it?"

    "I didn't hear a thing," Amabel said. "Go back to bed, dear. You're exhausted. It's probably the leftovers of a bad dream. Just look at you, you're white as the woodwork. You did have a nightmare, didn't you?"

    Sally nodded because it was the truth. But those screams had lasted, had gone on and on. They'd not been part of the dream, the dream that was a memory she hated, but that always came in her sleep when she was helpless against it.

    "Go to bed. You poor baby, you're shivering like a leaf. Go back to bed. Hurry now."

    "But I heard it twice, Amabel. I thought it was you, but it's not. It's coming from outside the house."

    "No, baby, there's nothing out there. You're so tired, so much has happened in the past few days I'm surprised you haven't heard the Rolling Stones bawling at the top of their lungs. There's nothing, Sally. It was a nightmare, nothing more. Don't forget, this is The Cove, dear. Nothing ever happens here. If you did hear something, why it was only the wind. The wind off the ocean can whine just like a person. You'll learn that soon enough. You didn't hear anything. Trust me. Go back to bed."

    Sally went back to bed. She lay stiff and waiting, so cold she wondered whether the tears would freeze on her face if she cried. She could have sworn that she heard a door quietly open and close, but she didn't have the guts to go see.

    She would relax, then stiffen again, waiting to hear that awful cry. But there weren't any more cries. Maybe Amabel was right. She was exhausted; she had been dreaming and it had been hideous and so very real. Maybe she was paranoid or psychotic or schizophrenic. They had called her all those things for six months. She wondered-if she saw the person actually cry out would that be a delusion? Just a fabrication of her mind? Probably. No, she wouldn't think about that time. It made her hurt too much. She fell asleep again near dawn.

    It was a dreamless sleep this time.

3

    JAMES RAILEY QUINLAN had more energy than he'd had just twenty minutes before. His body was humming with it. That was because she was here. He was sure of it now, he could feel her here. He'd always had these feelings- more than intuition. The feelings just came to him suddenly, and he had always followed them, ever since he was a kid. The time or two he hadn't, he'd gotten himself into deep shit. Now he was out on a very long limb, and if he was wrong he'd pay for it. But he wasn't wrong. He could feel her presence in this very charming and