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By late afternoon, Brenda was up again and had somehow managed to locate and pour herself into dry clothes. I coaxed her into the Z and conned her into showing me the Carson place. We drove through town, past Percy's drugstore and out to the western edge of the village. There we turned left toward the lakefront and drove about 500 yards back down a narrow lane to a small unbridged stream. I did a little estimating of ground clearance and decided we had better go the rest of the way on foot. Brenda was apprehensive about it, but she pulled the slicker up tighter around her throat and trudged on. I heard only one small, and for her, insignificant grouse. "Why the hell couldn't we have waited till the weather was better?" |
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We crossed the shallow rockbed stream, worked our way up the slope of the bank, rounded the curve in the lane and headed for the clearing at the water's edge. The clearing was supposedly the place where the thing had decimated Carson's horse and Brenda had decimated good old Percy. Suddenly she let out a shriek and pointed to the far side of the clearing; Percy's truck was still there. |
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"Oh," she moaned, "don't tell me I did more to him than just punch out his lights." |
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"Hell, he probably came to and couldn't find his keys either." I laughed, but the |
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