Endless Night by Richard Laymon Page B

and soft. They felt a lot better than the rocks of the creek bed. She leaned back, bracing herself on stiff arms, and stretched out her legs beside Andy’s. “You didn’t tell me there was a cliff behind that wall,” she said.
    “Yeah, well. They didn’t get us, did they?”
    “Not so far. Have you heard anything from up there?”
    “No. You?”
    “Huh-uh.”
    “I think they went away.”
    “Sure hope so,” Jody said. “I think we’d better stay here, though. How’s the old knee?”
    “I don’t know. I’m not so sure it’s broken anymore.”
    “What, you think it healed? ”
    “I don’t think I broke it. Maybe it’s just twisted.”
    “It better be broken after you made me drag you all over creation.”
    He was silent for a few moments. Then he said, “You saved me, Jody.”
    “Yeah, well. Glad to be of service. You were pretty good yourself, pal.”
    He sank against the ground and rested his hands over his hips. He sighed.
    “Are you okay?” Jody asked again.
    “Sure.” A while later, he said, “They got everyone, didn’t they?”
    Jody lay down beside him. She pulled his arm and he rolled onto his side. They scooted toward each other until their bodies met. She held him. “It’s all right,” she whispered.
    Like hell, she thought. They killed them all. His mom and dad, Evelyn. His whole family.
    “Everything’ll be all right,” she said.
    Andy didn’t say anything.
    After a while, he began to cry.
    Jody squeezed him tight against her while he wept with his face pushed against the side of her neck.
    Soon after he stopped crying, the sirens began. There seemed to be one at first, then many, their wails rising and overlapping and dying.
    The night was still filled with sirens when Jody murmured, “Good God. I haven’t heard anything like this since the riots.”
    “Sure sounds like a lot of cops,” Andy said.
    “Not just cops. Fire trucks.”
    “Do you think so?”
    “Yeah.”
    As the noise of the sirens diminished, Jody heard car doors thudding shut, voices shouting, other voices tinny and amplified by loud speakers, others broken, crackling with static.
    “Do you think my house is burning down?” Andy asked.
    “It might be. I hope not, but ..”
    “Do you think they’re in it?”
    “Oh, Andy.”
    “They are, aren’t they?”
    “I don’t know.” She pressed her mouth against the side of his head. After a while, she said, “We oughta get up there. The sooner we tell the police what happened, the better.”
    She started to ease away, but Andy tightened his arms around her.
    “Come on,” she whispered.
    “I don’t wanta.”
    “I’ll help you walk.”
    “That isn’t why.”
    “What do you want to do?” she asked.
    “Stay here.”
    “Do you want me to go up and bring someone ... ?”
    “No! You’ve gotta stay, too.”
    “Andy.”
    “Please. We gotta just stay here.”
    Jody relaxed in his arms. She gently stroked the back of his head. “Are you afraid those guys might be up there?”
    His head moved beneath her hand, nodding.
    “They didn’t come down after us,” she said.
    “They might be waiting.”
    “I don’t think so. They probably started the fire on purpose, you know? It’s a great way to destroy physical evidence.”
    “Fingerprints and stuff?”
    “Yeah. All kinds of things. So they probably started the fire and then took off. They sure wouldn’t want to be here when the fire trucks and cops showed up. They’re probably miles away by now.”
    “Maybe.”
    “They’d be nuts to stick around.”
    Andy was silent for a few moments, then said, “You think they’re not nuts?”
    “Okay. I should’ve said ‘stupid.’ They’re nuts, all right, but they aren’t stupid. Those two didn’t jump off the balcony, for instance. They knew they might get hurt. And they didn’t come down here. Must’ve figured it’d be a waste of time, and too risky. Or maybe my trick with the phone worked. If they really thought I’d gotten through to 911,