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his patient. He brought the beam of light around and focused it on the deputy. |
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For a moment, Linda couldn't believe her own eyes. |
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A splattered trail of telltale blood traced its way across the floor and up the man's body. His shirt was saturated, and his hands lay limp at his sides. The deputy's face was fixed in a grotesque kind of knowing smile. His eyes were open, looking right at them. |
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Freeman played the beam of light back down the man's body and across the bloodstained floor to the place on the bar where Ruthie's grotesque present had once resided. It was as he expectedgone. |
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The young woman fell to her knees. "Bart," she shouted, "can you hear me?" Her voice betrayed her mounting hysteria. |
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Freeman stood behind her, motionless, his mouth agape. |
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Bartholomew Miller's eyes shifted mechanically in her direction. His mouth struggled to form the words. "Are . . . are you Ruthie?" |
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She looked nervously up at the doctor. "Ruthie?" she repeated. |
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Before Freeman could respond, Bartholomew's voice rasped through the darkness again. "I am that thing," he hissed. "We are one . . . it is willing me . . . and I it." |
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"What's he talking about, Doc?" |
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Freeman stepped forward unsteadily. |
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