dragged the floor, but it still scuttled closer, palpi coming at Dave like pincers.
The last shot from his Beretta exploded another of its eyes.
Reaching for his .38, he saw Joan, knife in hand, jump over two of the spider’s thrashing legs. She no longer had her revolver. Must’ve emptied it.
Jasper aimed at her face. He wouldn’t miss. A point-blank shot.
Dave drew his .38.
But raising it seemed to take so long…so long.
He heard Jasper’s hammer snap down.
A quick hard clack.
No blast.
It had fallen on a spent cartridge!
Now Dave’s gun was up, leveled at Jasper, but he held fire. Afraid of hitting Joan as she hurled herself against the bloated side of the spider, just behind Jasper. She vaulted onto the beast. Jasper, twisting, rammed an elbow into her. She hooked an arm beneath his ruined chin, jerked him backward, and her right arm swept in around him and plunged the knife into his chest. She pulled the knife out, rammed it in again, then flung him sideways. He toppled from his mount, sliding, falling headfirst among the spider’s legs.
As its pincers caught Dave.
They clamped him just below the knees.
How could it still be alive?
He fired, jerking the trigger fast, pumping round after round into its head as the beast squeezed his legs together and Dave toppled backward. He was hammering at spent shells when he heard Joan screaming. His back slammed the floor.
What’s she screaming about? Dave wondered.
Shoving himself up with his elbows, he saw Joan still on top of the spider. Shrieking like a banshee as she thrust her knife into the hump of its back.
She’s screaming about me.
As he twisted and tried to kick free, the pincers began to pull him. He slid over the floor toward the spider.
It raised its head.
What was left of its head. A hideous oblong thing shattered by bullets, caved in, cracked and split, red and yellow fluids gushing from its wounds.
The fucking thing’s dead in its tracks! Dave’s mind screamed. Why’s it doing this to me?
It dragged him.
Squealing, he rammed his right foot against its single dripping fang. He shoved at it, trying to keep himself back.
Antonio leapt past him, swung the ax down with both hands, and split the spider’s head in half. The pincers loosened their grip. Dave tore his legs free and scrambled backward as the man chopped again.
He rolled onto his side.
Face-to-face with Debbie.
As they stared into each other’s eyes, the wet crunching sounds of the chopping went on.
She scooted closer to Dave.
He put an arm around her back, pulled her against him, and felt the girl’s face press the side of his neck.
“The bullet hit your vest?” he whispered.
He felt her nod.
Robin kept singing as the troll inched closer. Then she stopped, and reached out to him. He gripped her hand. She held it tightly as he climbed onto the seat.
Gasping and shuddering from the ordeal, he sat down beside her. With one hand he clutched the side of the gondola. The other held Robin’s hand against his leg.
She pressed her legs together, wondering if she’d been crazy to let this troll in with her. She used her free arm to cover her breasts. “It’s okay,” she said. “You’re safe now.”
He flinched as gunfire erupted again.
Robin looked away from him. The shots sounded as if they might be coming from inside Jasper’s Oddities or the Fun-house, which were on the far side of the boardwalk, about halfway between the Ferris wheel and the main entrance. The last time, the shots had sounded like rapid fire from a single gun. Now it seemed that several weapons of different calibers were firing at once.
The troll released her hand. He slid an arm across her shoulders and drew Robin against the side of his quaking body.
It’s all right, she told herself. He’s just scared.
She realized that the gunfire had stopped. Then came a quick series of blasts, and the shooting ended again.
Slowly the troll relaxed. She could feel his shudders fade. He began to caress her arm from shoulder to elbow. His touch made her skin crawl.
She faced him. “That was the police,” she said. “They’ll be coming out soon.”
I hope, she thought.
God, what if the cops had lost that shoot-out?
“When they come out,” she said, “they’ll get us down from here. So you’d better not try anything, you understand?”
He turned toward her, a knee pushing against the side of her leg. Though his eyes were hooded with shadow, she could feel their gaze roaming her body. “Denny likes you,” he