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against the law, you
get a third citation.”
    Wade was getting bombed worse than Pearl
Harbor. All these tickets would cost three bills in fines and three
more points, which his insurance wouldn’t tolerate.
    Okay. B.S. time, he thought. He put on his best poor boy look,
which probably was not very convincing while seated in a car that
cost $75,000. “Officer Prentiss, I’m ashamed of myself. There’s no
excuse for the thoughtless immaturity that I’ve demonstrated in
your presence, and I humbly apologize. But the truth is, Officer,
these tickets might cause my car insurance to be dropped, and that
would make for some major trouble between me and my father. So I’m at your
mercy. I’m going to ask that, in your generosity, you overlook
these infractions, and in return you have my word and my personal
guarantee that I will never violate the law on this campus ever
again. My word.”
    “ I’ve heard better bullshit
from Sterno drinkers,” she replied. She bruskly passed him the
ticket book. “Sign, Mr. St. John.”
    Wade was getting ticked. It wouldn’t kill
this broad to give him a break. “What if I refuse to sign?” he
dared ask.
    “ Then I will arrest you for
ignoring a state summons.”
    Wade laughed. “You wouldn’t
dare. Maybe you don’t fully realize who I am. I’m Wade St. John. My
father—”
    “ Sign the tickets or get
out of the car,” Officer Prentiss said, then withdrew a shiny set
of Peerless handcuffs.
    Wade, boiling, signed the tickets. The cop
tore off his copies and rather roughly stuffed them in his shirt
pocket. “And if I ever see you throwing anything out of that car
again,” she said, and smiled, “I’ll toss your rich boy behind
in my jail in less time than it takes to say collegiate expulsion.
Oh, and have a nice day.”
    Officer Prentiss then drove
off in her cruiser, leaving Wade slack mouthed. Have a nice day? he
thought. Baby, they don’t get any nicer
than this.

    —

    CHAPTER 5

    The women stirred, moaning out from endless
dreams. Their lair was a labyrinth; they lay deep in it. The
labyrinth was silent and black, like death.
    They lay together naked, their big eyes
suddenly, inexplicably open. Something had waked them. Something—a
word.
    — Who are we? they wondered in unison.
    But then they remembered. The labyrinth’s
buried blackness began to move. They remembered who they were. They
remembered the word, the holy, loving word.
    Supremate.
    — WAKE!
    — Hello! one said.
    — Hello! cried several more.
    — We love you! We remember
now!
    They giggled together in their box. In joy,
they kissed.
    Then, like love, the voice caressed
them.
    — MY DAUGHTERS, MY
LOVE.
    The labyrinth was coming alive. Their lair
grew warm. The dark and holy light felt beautiful on their white
skin.
    Memory crept closer. All things to serve
their god! But first came an impulse. Sustenance. Hunger. Filling
themselves up. The women remembered. They were hungry.
    — Eat!
    Yes, to eat. To make their bellies swell.
Warm meat. Blood.
    — We want to eat,
please!
    The Supremate’s voice was
like a promise in the wind. —SOON,
DAUGHTERS. SOON YOU’LL EAT. YOU’LL FEAST ON THE NEW
PIGS.
    Their loins tingled. Their red mouths
drooled.
    — Blood!
    — Meat!
    — New pigs!
    They fidgeted in their box, reveling in the
promises, like kisses. New blood to bathe in, and meat. They
giggled and grinned.
    — PRECIOUS
DAUGHTERS…ARISE.

    ««—»»

    The Old Exham Inn was an antediluvian brick
and mortar catacomb full of dully clashing decor. Upstairs was the
pub, downstairs the stage. The inn served pretentious “light fare”
only and imported beer. The town, after all, knew who it was
catering to—spoiled, rich college kids—which was how they got away
with astronomical prices. Only “diverse” bands were billed, to keep
out the local riffraff.
    They filed down the stone steps to one of
the small dining coves far off from the stage.
    “ Feeling any better?” Tom
asked.
    Jervis