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Back Black Ambrosia Save as PDF
Chapters (46)
  1. CoverImage
  2. Introduction by Grady Hendrix
  3. Acknowledgments
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. About the Author
  46. About the Cover

“At last Angelina and I were in the same town at the same time. She was in Wilton, all right. Murdering children. Murdering defenseless children. God!

“I knew she was in Wilton, but I didn’t know where. We worked with a silent desperation, the mayor and I. I tried to stay in the background until I’d assessed all the information—I couldn’t stand having her slip away again.

“The town was a panic-stricken mess, but at last I felt that my net was closing in on her. I tried to take things methodically, the way one does on a hunt. They were impatient. I had no authority, though, so while I collated information, they set a trap for her.”

36

36

I followed the fear scent for two blocks. The smell sharpened and focused and I became suspicious. No one was out of doors after nightfall in Wilton anymore. No one. Everyone was inside, locked in with their stale air and their fear, breathing the fumes of their own desperation.

Why, then, could I smell the hysterical silence of a young girl—outside?

I slid into the shadow of a house and thought. The pull of the child’s humanity was powerful: The scent pulsed in my nostrils, saliva began to flow. But there was something wrong here.

I opened the rest of my senses, I tried to puzzle out my reluctance to this free and easy meal—like a radio antenna, I trained my point of focus around the whole area, and came up with the only conclusion I could make. It was a trap.

Indignation arose in me. How dare they consider me to be such a fool! Let their little bit of bait meat suffer the night through and be tortured by nightmares for the rest of her life—I would not touch her, I would not fall for their pathetic ruse.

I lay my hand on the house whose shadow I enjoyed and felt the vibrations of family within. This house, I thought. This is the house I will claim tonight. And I shall enjoy each of its inhabitants.

I listened more with my hand, and waited until the house quieted. Then with the use of the music, I persuaded the husband to open the door. He, I took in the foyer. The wife went to her damned reward in her marriage bed, and the twins I greedily disposed of and threw on top of her. All the time my indignation rose and fell; I was seriously wounded that the fathers of this community would be such insensitive dolts. Well, this would give them something new to discuss among themselves.