rumbling of thunder above her head, the barn was still. All sorts of horrid thoughts flooded her mind. Cora had been killed by whatever she was fighting. The blue-eyed man had reappeared and killed her. Victoria would find nothing but the hunter's corpse. Still, she couldn't very well stay in the hayloft, waiting for the nightmares to find their way up to her.
As soon as Victoria reached the bottom of the ladder, she remembered the crucifix, still laying somewhere on the loft floor. Her shoulders slumped at her own stupidity. She gave the ladder a rueful look, not eager to make the climb again. It was necessary, though. The crucifix had saved her from the girl-creature, buying her enough time to reach her gun. For whatever reason, the little carving had power over these things. Sighing, she reached for the ladder again.
A shout from outside stopped her cold. It was Cora's voice. Victoria turned her head, listening intently. Another shout, followed by a gunshot. Something was wrong.
Before she could think, Victoria was already running. Her revolver appeared in her hand. A blast of warm wind welcomed her as she charged through the barn door. Skidding to a stop, she frantically searched the yard for the old hunter.
A shout rose up over the wind. It came from the direction of the house. Gun at the ready, Victoria ran toward the sound. As she approached, she could see the door hanging open, blowing this way and that in the wind. Her blisters rubbed painfully against her boots, but she kept running. Somewhere in her mind, the thought that this run across the yard was easier than her last brought a grim smile to her face. She'd nearly been eaten alive by a child, her crucifix was lost, and her companion may or may not still be alive, but at least she was appropriately dressed.
"Cora!" she yelled as she ran onto the porch. "Can you hear me?"
"That you, Vicky?"
"Yes! Where are you?"
"Upstairs. Get your skinny rump up here double quick!"
Victoria thundered into the house, guided by her blurry memories from before. Her mind was so focused on what she would do, what she might see when she made it up the stairs that she nearly tripped over a corpse in the living room.
Catching herself on a chair, she gave the body a quick glance over. It was a woman, her flower-print dress rolled back to her knees. The corpse lay face down on the floor. Keeping her gun trained on the woman's head, she pushed against the shoulder with the toe of her boot.
A wretched face rolled into view. The woman had once been pretty, perhaps, before her teeth grew too large for her mouth. Thick black fluid oozed across her face from a hole above her right eye.
Keeping her gun aimed at the corpse, Victoria carefully stepped over it. Her muscles were taut, ready to spring into action should the body so much as twitch, but the dead woman didn't move. She took another step. Nothing. Lowering the gun, she let herself relax.
A crash from the second floor made her jump. Cora had taken care of the woman-creature, but the man from the other night was still unaccounted for. The old hunter was most likely fighting him at that moment, and she needed help.
Making a dash for the stairs, Victoria felt her boot strike something on the floor, sending it skittering to one side. Cora's rifle. She stared at it, the implications exploding in her mind like cannon fire. The creatures had managed to disarm Cora. She was facing one of them unarmed. If the blue-eyed man or the Indian woman arrived, she would be defenseless. Victoria hesitated, unsure if she should pick up the rifle and take it up to its owner.
"Vicky!" Cora's shout was strained. Victoria's boots pounded up the stairs. She could hear thumping and grunting coming from the door on the left. It stood slightly ajar, and she pushed it open with her free hand, revolver raised.
Cora stood against one wall, rosary dangling from her outstretched fist. Her other hand was empty. Across the room from her, the man-creature crouched on the floor. The hunter's struggle had punched a few gouges into the wallpaper. Clothing and broken glass littered the floor from a toppled dresser.
"Goddamn it, girl, where you been?" Cora asked.
"I-"
"Don't matter none. Toss me your gun."
Without her gun, Victoria would be defenseless. "But-"
"Do it!" Cora yelled, holding out her hand. Victoria tossed the weapon into the