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His speed was down to forty ot it back up to sixty He decided not to push it beyond that He only had a short distance to go If he wrapped the Jeep around a streetlamp or rolled it over and killed hiood

He was still not obeying the rules of the road He wentout into the east-bound lanes, again thankful that there were no oncoainst hinored every one of the or reckless driving If stopped, he would flash his badge and take the unifor with hiiven a chance to pick up those reinforce hiency If they pulled him over, he would lose at least a ht be the difference between life and death for Hilary

As she watched Bruno Frye co her mind

The man was dead Dead! She had stabbed hiue, too, cold and yellow-gray and lifeless An autopsy had been perforned Dead rave, walking out of the dark dining rooloved hand, eager to finish what he had started last week; and it simply was not possible that he could be there

Hilary closed her eyes and willed hione But a second later, when she forced herself to look again, he was still there

She was unable to move She wanted to run, but all of her joints--hips, knees, ankles--were rigid, locked, and she didn’t have the strength to make them move She felt weak, as frail as an old, old woed to unlock her joints and take a step, she would collapse

She couldn’t speak, but, inside, she was screa

Frye stopped less than fifteen feet fro that had been torn fro violently, obviously on the edge of hysteria

Could a dead man be hysterical?

She had to be out of herhost? But she didn’t believe in ghosts And besides, wasn’t a spirit supposed to be insubstantial, transparent, or at least translucent? Could an apparition be as solid as this walking dead ly real as he was?

"Bitch," he said "You stinking bitch!"

His hard, low-pitched, gravelly voice was unht crazily, his vocal cords already should have started to rot His throat should be blocked with putrescence

She felt high-pitched laughter building in her, and she struggled to control it If she began to laugh, she ly, still teetering on the brink of hysteria

"No," she said "Oh, no No"

"You did!" he screa the knife "You killed me! Don’t lie about it I know Don’t you think I know? Oh, Jesus! I feel so strange, so alone, all alone, so ee "So empty and scared And it’s all because of you"

He slowly crossed the few yards that separated hih the rubble

Hilary could see that this dead man’s eyes were not blank or filray and very er

"This time you’ll stay dead," Frye said as he approached "You won’t come back this time"

She tried to retreat fros alth left than she had thought

"This ti every precaution I’ to cut your fuckin’ heart out"

She took another step, but it didn’t matter; she could not escape She wouldn’t have time to reach the door and throw off both locks If she tried that, he would be on her in a second, ra the knife down between her shoulders

"Pound a stake through your fuckin’ heart"

If she ran for the stairs and tried to get to the pistol in her bedroom, she surely wouldn’t be as lucky as she had been the last time This time he would catch her before she oddamned head off"

He loomed over her, within arm’s reach

She had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide

"Gonna cut out your tongue Stuff your fuckin’ arlic so you can’t sweet-talk your way back from hell"

She could hear her own thunderous heartbeat She couldn’t breathe because of the intensity of her fear

"Cut your fuckin’ eyes out"

She froze again, unable to move an inch

"Gonna cut your eyes out and crush them so you can’t see your way back"

Frye raised the knife high above his head "Cut your hands off so you can’t feel your way back fro up there for an eternity as terror distorted Hilary’s sense of tiaze, nearly hypnotizing her

"No!"

Sharp slivers of light glinted on the cutting edge of the poised blade

"Bitch"

And then the knife started down, straight at her face, light flashing off the steel, down and down and down in a long, sroceries in one ar to think about what she rabbed the bag with both hands and thrust it out, up, in the way of the descending knife, trying desperately to block the killing blow

The blade ra a carton ofwas knocked out of Hilary’s grasp It fell to the floor, spilling s and scallions and sticks of butter

The knife had been torn from the dead man’s hand He stopped to retrieve it

Hilary ran toward the stairs She knew that she had only delayed the inevitable She had gained two or three seconds, no h ti

Surprised, she stopped at the foot of the stairs and looked back

Frye stood up with the knife in hand

Their eyes met; Hilary could see a flicker of indecision in his

Frye moved toward her, but with less confidence than he had exhibited before He glanced nervously toward the foyer and the front door

The bell rang again

Holding on to the bannister, backing up the steps, Hilary yelled for help, screamed at the top of her voice

Outside, a man shouted: "Police!"

It was Tony

"Police! Open this door!"

Hilary couldn’t ilad to hear anyone’s voice as she was to hear his, now

Frye stopped when he heard the word "police," looked up at Hilary, then at the door, then at her again, calculating his chances

She kept screa that caused Frye to ju discordantly on a tile floor Although she couldn’t see into the foyer from her position on the steps, Hilary knew that Tony had smashed the narro beside the front door

"Police!"

Frye glared at her She had never seen such hatred as that which twisted his face and gave his eyes a mad shine

"Hilary!" Tony said

"I’ll be back," Frye told her

The deadroo to slip out of the house by way of the kitchen

Sobbing, Hilary dashed down the few steps she had cli her through the s his service revolver, Tony returned frohtly-lit kitchen

Hilary was standing by the utility island in the center of the rooht hand