Title:Friday Night in Beast House
Author(s): Richard Laymon
Publisher(s): Leisure Books
Pages: 336
Year: 2010
Format: EPUB
Language: English
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In five more minutes, the first tourists would start heading down the walkway to the front of the Beast House. They would be stopping at Station One to hear aout Gus Goucher, then entering the house and going into the parlor for Ethel Hughes»s story. Then upstairs. There, the earlier portions of the tour took place in areas toward the front of the house. Not until the boys» room would there be a window with a good view of the rear grounds.
The first tourists probably wouldn»t reach the boys» room until about 10:30.
Making his plans, Mark had figured that he ought to be safe on the gift shop»s roof until then.
Might be pushing it, he thought.
After all, the tour»s self-guided. He»d done it often enough to know that some visitors were more interested in seeing the crime scences and gory displays than in listening to the whole story, so they pretty much ignored the audio tape and hurried from room to room.
Only one way to be sure nobody saw him fron an upstairs window: get off the roof as soon after ten o»clock as possible. But he didn»t want to leave his hiding place too early; he needed others to be around so he could mingle with them.
So he waited until ten past ten. Then he belly-crawled around the air-conditioner and saw the dog.
His mouth fell open.
The dog, big as a german shepherd, lay on its side a few feet from the far corner of the roof. It looked as if it had been mauled by wild animals. Hungry wild animals that had disembowelled it, torn huge chunks from its body …
Where»s it»s head? Mark wondered. Did they eat its head?
How the hell did it get on the roof?
Feeling a little sick, he belly-crawled toward the remains of the dog. He didn»t want to get any closer, but it lay between him and the corner of roof where he needed to descend.
Flies were buzzing around the carcass. It looked very fresh, though, its blood still red and wet.
Must»ve just happened, Mark thought. Not too long before I got here. If I»d shown up a little earlier …
His skin went prickly with goosebumps.
There didn»t seem to be a great deal of blood on the roof under and aroung the dog.
This isn»t where the thing got nailed, Mark though. It must»ve been hurled up here afterward. Or dropped?
He found his head turning toward Beast House, tilting back, his gaze moving from the second-floor windows to the roof.
Nah.
A bear could»ve done something like this, maybe. Or a wildcat. Or a man. A very strong, demented man.
Suddenly wanting badly to be off the roof, Mark scurried the rest of the way to its edge. He peered down. Nothing behind the building except for a patch of lawn and the back of Beast House.
For now, nobody was in sight.
Mark swung his legs over the edge. As they dangled, he lowered himself until he was hanging by his hands. Then he let go and dropped. Dropped further than he really expected.
His feet his the ground hard. Knees folding, he stumbled backward and landed hard on his rump.
It hurt, but he didn»t cry out.
Seated on the grass, he looked around.