The Dead of Winter - By Lee Collins Page 0,110

she approached the staircase. Pointing the holy symbol toward the top, she began her ascent.

Something stirred in the guest room. Cora pointed the crucifix toward the sound, followed by the revolver's barrel. Nudging the door open with her foot, she interrupted another vampire as it was nosing through the sheets on the bed. Its blue eyes locked on her as a hiss escaped its teeth. Cora's breath caught in her throat. The creature's face was gray and lifeless, but she recognized it. Another rush of air hissed out from beneath the vampire's familiar brown mustache as it bared short white teeth at her.

Teeth that had once belonged to her husband.

Cora backed into the hallway, shaking her head in disbelief. The monster inhabiting Ben's body followed her, using his arms and legs to creep along the floor in a halfcrouch. It was still wearing Ben's buckskin pants and button-up shirt, but his riding boots and hat were gone. Cora's foot slipped off the top step, and she almost fell head-over-heels down the stairs. Regaining her balance, she brought her gun back up and pointed the barrel at her husband's face, but she couldn't pull the trigger.

"Ben," she whispered. "Ben, please stop."

The creature didn't listen. Ben's graying knuckles came to rest on the top step as Cora backed down the stairs. Tears burned in her eyes, blurring her vision.

"Ben, it's me," she said. "Don't do this, please."

Cora reached the bottom of the stairs and continued backing out the front door. The savage hunger in her husband's eyes hypnotized her, stopping her from pulling the trigger. She couldn't shoot him. No matter what was inside him now, it was still his body, his face. She couldn't kill him.

Her boot stepped on air where the porch ended, and she fell backward. The vampire lunged. Cora brought the crucifix up at the last moment, and the wicked face she loved twisted in pain. Ben's body backed away, beating the air with his arms.

"Cora? Are you OK?"

Father Baez's voice echoed from the kitchen. The vampire turned and sprinted toward him with the agility of a mountain cat. Cora pulled herself to her feet and ran after it as the priest retreated into the kitchen. She brought her Colt up again, but couldn't bring herself to fire before the vampire disappeared around the corner.

Running after them, Cora entered the kitchen in time to see her husband's fingers clamped around the priest's collar. Father Baez beat against the vampire with his wrinkled hands, but the creature didn't flinch. Teeth bared, the head crowned with Ben's hair lowered itself toward the old man's neck.

Cora kicked the vampire in the ribs as hard as she could and knocked it off balance. Before it could right itself, she kicked again, the toe of her boot smashing into Ben's face. She shoved the crucifix into his undead eyes as a scream welled up inside her. The vampire recoiled from the holy symbol, cowering against the cabinets. Cora kicked it again. It hissed and snapped at her with Ben's teeth. Squeezing her eyes shut against the oncoming tears, she brought her Colt up and pulled the trigger.

The scream exploded from her lungs. She pulled the hammer back and fired again.

The big revolver fell from her limp hand as she collapsed to her knees, her scream breaking down into sobs. A warm hand touched her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. She struggled to her feet and staggered down the hall in a near run. Her boots stumbled at the porch steps, but she managed to keep them under her until she made it to where Our Lady stood. The mare staggered as Cora crashed into her side. She pulled herself into the saddle and gave Our Lady her heels. Her vision swam in the growing darkness, and she squinted through it to point the mare down the right road.

The night air dried the tears from her cheeks as she rode. Cora gave Our Lady her head, unable to focus on anything aside from staying in the saddle. In her mind, she kept repeating the same desperate creed, the words falling into rhythm with the horse's hooves. She hadn't just killed her husband. She hadn't just shot him in the head. She hadn't. She hadn't.

Our Lady soon caught wind of Ben's horse and changed her course. Her easy gallop came to rest next to the other mare, who still stood faithfully outside the abandoned house. Cora rubbed her eyes with the back of her

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