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Back The Intruder Save as PDF
Chapters (32)
  1. By the Same Author
  2. Introduction by Roger Corman
  3. THE INTRUDER
  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. About the Author

And he’d walked with her to her apartment that night, and she’d dreamed of the big, honest man. . . .

Vy heard the door close, and she listened until the footsteps had disappeared and the room was still.

She thought of Sam, and was, oddly, relieved. It was over now. She had been given five happy years, and she was grateful.

Dear Sam, she thought. You didn’t really think it would happen, did you? She’s cured, you thought. My love cured her.

But I knew. For five years I stayed beside you or in my room, alone, because I knew that sometime, somewhere, an Adam Cramer would show up, and that it would all end then.

I’ve betrayed you. And I know that I could never make you understand that while it was happening, I loved you more than ever, and wanted you, and needed you. How could you understand that?

But oh, Sam, I do love you! But it’s happened now and maybe it will happen again, and I could never bear to look at you and see the pain in your eyes.

This way you won’t know.

Forgive me. Please, God. Sam—forgive me!

15

15

Dear Max:

I said I’d keep you posted, and so I shall. I am, as you know, a man of my word—when it’s convenient.

As explained in previous letters, the phone calls worked very well indeed—and Mr. Shipman turned out to be a prize catch! We have more than enough for the work at hand, for I’d forgotten the “crackers” and “red-necks” who didn’t have telephones, also the outside fringe element, all of whom have joined up—

But don’t let me get ahead of myself!

The plan is still fairly vague, but it’s beginning to take on form; and pretty unique form, at that. One thing is certain, I have submerged the Adam Cramer you and I knew and loved (!)—Requiescat in Pace! A charming lad he was, full of wit and intelligence, but he don’t go so good here. His replacement would nauseate you: a gentle, courteous, polite young feller that talks the people’s talk, yes sir. Now I am like a bar mirror, in a way. The folks look at me and see themselves (and all their prejudices) in a soft, flattering light. I’m their idea of a smart, civilized, educated man. Since I think exactly the same way they do, they regain respect for themselves. And they love me for it!