Endless Night by Richard Laymon Page A

hillside.
    That was a very good thing.
    It was also good that she could hear a television. Though sounds might carry long distances on such a quiet summer night, the TV meant that a house was within a reasonable distance. She could probably get to it if she needed to.
    She didn’t want to think about going in search of a house.
    Maybe later.
    For now, she was well hidden and safe. She felt very lucky to be alive. She sure didn’t want to jeopardize herself by venturing out into an unfamiliar neighborhood.
    The thing to do is find Andy, she decided.
    Gritting her teeth, Jody pushed herself up to her hands and knees. Though her hurts flared, she didn’t allow the pain to stop her. On her feet, she pulled at the twisted damp rag of her nightshirt, unwound it, and drew it down her thighs.
    To her right, she saw the hillside that slanted up, heavy with trees and bushes, toward the rear of the Youngman house. She couldn’t see much of it. She certainly couldn’t see the wall at the top. But nothing seemed to be moving down toward her through the darkness.
    To her left, she saw more trees and undergrowth. Splashes of moonlight, but no light from houses or streets. How odd. They had to be there. She’d visited the area often enough to know that every hillside had a road curving around its base, that every such road was lined with houses.
    Houses on the hillsides always had houses somewhere below them. Being at the bottom of a hill, she must be fairly close to the back of someone’s place.
    So where are the lights?
    Maybe a power failure, she told herself.
    She didn’t like the idea of that. Not one bit. A power failure might’ve been caused on purpose by those men to give them darkness.
    What if it wasn’t just the guys I saw? What if they’re all over the place? Hundreds of them. Like The Night of the Living Dead, or something.
    No, that’s crazy.
    This whole thing’s crazy and sick. I don’t need to make it worse by going nuts with my imagination.
    She knew there hadn’t been a power failure as of five or ten minutes ago; the Youngman house had still been lighted up the last time she’d seen it from over by the wall. Besides, if that bunch had wanted to knock out all the lights in the area, they certainly would’ve done it before starting their attacks.
    I bet there isn’t any power failure, she thought. I just can’t see the lights because of all the trees and stuff. Fences, too. Almost every house was likely to have a solid fence of wood or cinderblocks to protect it from the wilds at the base of the slope.
    Probably no way to reach a street without running into a fence.
    More climbing.
    I’ll need to give Andy another boost.
    Have to find him first.
    She listened again for sounds of anyone approaching. They’re long gone. They’ve gotta be.
    “Andy?” she called softly.
    She stood motionless, listening. No answer came.
    “Andy!” she called more loudly.
    She waited.
    Maybe he’s out cold.
    He had dropped from the same wall as Jody, must’ve tumbled down the same slope. Even though they’d started at almost the same place, however, he certainly hadn’t ended up in the creek bed with her.
    It seemed likely that he’d stopped short, somewhere up the slope.
    How far up?
    She hadn’t seen or heard him rolling down the slope. Maybe he’d landed by the wall and stayed there.
    What if they got him?
    “Jody?”
    She whirled toward the slope. “Andy?”
    “Where are you?” The faint, fearful voice of the boy came from above and off to her left.
    “I’m on my way,” Jody called.

Chapter Seven
    It took only a few minutes to find Andy. He lay in the darkness beneath an overhanging lip of rock. Jody could only see the dim gray of his torso and face. His jeans made him invisible below the waist.
    As she approached him, he propped himself up on his elbows.
    “Are you okay?” she asked.
    “Yeah. What about you?”
    “Fine.” She sat down beside him. The ground was springy with weeds. They were damp