to be. Surely, if he were planning to run tonight, he would wait until much later.
Or would he?
She turned the knob of his door and pushed it open.
“Randy?”
There was no answer. She switched the light on. Randy’s bed was empty.
Slowly, reluctantly, Louise started toward the main stairs. She would have to report that Randy Corliss was gone.
* * *
Randy could see the treetop looming twenty feet in front of him. All he had to do was ease himself down to the eave, then climb onto the large branch he had spotted this afternoon. But going down the steep angle of the roof was not as easy as scooting across it. He had to place each foot carefully, bracing himself with both hands as he shifted his weight from one foot to another.
And then it happened. His right foot hit a patch of moss and he slipped. He began sliding down the roof, his hands scrabbling for a grip on the worn slate. He felt himself begin to go over the edge and made a desperate grab at the gutter that rimmed the eave. It screeched at the sudden strain, and pulled away from its supports, but it held. Randy swung in the air for a moment, searching wildly for his branch.
It was only a foot away, and with the strength born of fear, Randy worked his way over and swung onto it. Pausing only a moment to catch his breath, he began scrambling down the tree. In a few seconds he was on the ground, sprinting across the lawn toward the woods. Only when he reached them did he stop to look back.
All over the house lights were coming on.
He turned and plunged into the forest, relying on his memory to guide him to the stream and the culvert that would take him under the fence. A faint glow from the moon lighted his way, and he was able to keep moving at a dead run, dodging this way and that, moving steadily away from the house. His breath was getting short, and he was beginning to think he’d taken a wrong turn, when suddenly he heard the sound of running water. And then he was at the top of the bank, the stream just below him.
From behind, he heard the barking of dogs.
He slid down the bank and waded into the water, ignoring its chill. He started upstream and came to the end of the culvert. Without considering the possible consequences, hearing only the baying of the dogs as they searched for his scent, he dove into the narrow pipe.
It was tight, and his shoulders rubbed against both sides as he crept through the rushing water. But then, as his hands and feet began to grow numb from the cold, he saw a faint glow ahead.
He was almost out.
Urging his small body onward, he squirmed the last few feet.
With his goal only inches away, he discovered his mistake.
Firmly imbedded in the end of the culvert was a wire-mesh grate, its heavy screening blocking the passage of anything but the rushing stream.
Hopelessness flooded over Randy for a moment, then receded. Determinedly, he began backing out of the culvert. It seemed to take forever, but at last he was free of the confining pipe, standing in the water, his body charged with a combination of fear and exhilaration.
The dogs were coming closer now. Randy scrambled back up the bank, his mind whirling, searching for a solution.
The fence.
He would have to climb the fence.
He could see one of the dogs now, a huge shadow charging toward him out of the dimness. Turning, he hurled himself toward the fence, but he was too late.
The doberman was on him, snarling, its jaws clamping onto Randy’s left ankle. The dog planted its feet firmly in the ground and began shaking its head. Randy tripped, collapsed, then tried to kick out at the dos. His right foot connected with the animal’s head, and it let go for a moment Randy scrambled to his feet, the fence a foot behind him. The dog hesitated, snarled, then leaped toward him. Randy twisted aside, grabbed the dog in mid-leap, and shoved hard.
With a high-pitched scream, the dog died as the voltage of the fence surged through it. Randy, his hand still clutching the animal’s skin, stared at it for a moment.
Dimly, he was aware of an odd sensation in his arm. It was an inner tingling and a slight burning sensation. The last time he had touched the fence,