Night Howl by Andrew Neiderman Page A

him as though he had just solved some great mystery.
    “Let’s go,” Kevin said, and the four of them started toward the gate. Qwen took a chaw of his tobacco, chewed it vigorously, and then spit a glob high in the air to his left. It wasn’t until after the institute disappeared behind the forest that he began to feel this little trip could somehow become life-threatening. He made a mental note not to trust anyone or anything but himself and Maggie’s instincts.
    Sid was up at dawn. He wanted to be on the road by six-thirty because he had a good five hours of drivingahead of him. Clara heard him in the bathroom and rose to make the coffee and get him some breakfast, even though it would be a quick one. He had done almost all of his packing the day before, so he expected his departure to be smooth and fast.
    “I don’t think I fell asleep,” Clara told him. “I think I passed out.”
    “You’re right. I thought I’d wake you with my tossing and turning.”
    “Didn’t hear a thing,” she said.
    They spoke to each other softly, almost as softly as they had when he’d courted her on a summer night, the two of them sitting on the porch of her house, her parents just inside, watching television, the sounds of the neighbors subdued, their own conversation broken occasionally by her parents’ laughter within. There were strong feelings just under the surface of things, passions and emotions lying dormant, just below the thin membrane of courtesy and restraint. He wanted her in his arms just as much as she wanted to be in them. The truth of their desires was written between sentences, in the lingering glances, and in the closeness of their bodies.
    Now, in the early morning hours, there was a similar thin membrane of courtesy and restraint between them, only this time it covered disturbing tensions, aroused by the events of the past few days and Sid’s impending business trip. They both searched for small talk to avoid any references to the pain and fear.
    “What’s this place like?” she asked him. She usually inquired about his projects.
    “They make paper containers for things like dairy products, ice cream. That kind of thing. They’re growing, but not at the rate they should. They’ve had some labor problems, but I think they’re top-heavy in management. There’s a lot of duplication.”
    “I guess you won’t be too popular with the executives.”
    “Doesn’t matter. I’m in and out. If they want to listen, good, it’s their nickel. If not . . .” he shrugged and she forced a smile.
    “You have everything?”
    “Just about. I was looking for that new calculator Morris gave me last time I was in New York.”
    “Oh, Bobby had that.” She thought for a moment. “He was down in the basement with it, last I remember. It’s probably right on the bar or the table. I’ll look for it.”
    “No, that’s all right. I’ll go.” He got up quickly. “You’ve got to get the kids up for school soon.” He was hoping they’d be awake before he left.
    He went to the basement door, flipped on the lights, and descended the steps.
    In the darkness below, he had awakened with the first sounds of Sid’s rising. He had listened intelligently to the movements upstairs, recognizing the heaviness that identified the adults. He was naturally more afraid of the man; he was keenly aware of Sid’s location above him every moment. It wasn’t his intention to go right into battle now. He wanted to wait and look for opportunity. Although he liked where he was and was comfortable here, he wasn’t satisfactorily familiar enough with all the surroundings yet.
    The early dawn light that flowed through the basement windows gave him a better view of the room and its contents. He explored with a sharp curiosity, looking for familiar things. There was another part to the basement, a room that housed the water pump and hot water heater, as well as the box of circuit breakers. There was no oil burner or gas heater, since