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dust cover from your sofa。' He pushed himself to a final brutality。 'Want to go back and look？'
Mark winced away from him； his face horrified and hurting。
'I want you with me；' Ben said more softly He felt a germ of self…disgust in his stomach。 He sounded like a football coach before the big game。 'I don't care who's tried to stop him before。 I don't care if Attila the Run played him and lost。 I'm going to have my shot。 I want you with me。 I need you。' And that was the truth； pure and naked。
'Okay；' Mark said。 He looked down into his lap； and his hands found each other and entwined in distraught pantomime。
'Dig your feet in；' Ben said。
Mark looked at him hopelessly。 I'm trying；' he said。
44
Sonny's Exxon station on outer Jointner Avenue was open and Sonny James （who exploited his country…music namesake with a huge color poster in the window beside a pyramid of oil cans） came out to wait on them himself。 He was a small； gnome…like man whose receding hair was lawn…mowered into a perpetual crew cut that showed his pink scalp。
'Hey there； Mr Mears； howya doin'？ Where your Citrowan？'
'Laid up； Sonny。 Where's Pete？' Pete Cook was Sonny's part…time help； and lived in town。 Sonny did not。
'Never showed up today。 Don't matter。 Things been slow； anyway。 Town seems downright dead。'
Ben felt dark； hysterical laughter in his belly。 It threatened to boil out of his mouth in a great and rancid wave。
'Want to fill it up？' he managed。 'Want to use your phone。'
'Sure。 Hi； kid。 No school today？'
I'm on a field trip with Mr Mears；' Mark said。 'I had a bloody nose。'
'I guess to God you did。 My brother used to get 'em。 They're a sign of high blood pressure； boy。 You want to watch out。' He strolled to the back of Jimmy's car and took off the gas cap
Ben went inside and dialed the pay phone beside the rack of New England road maps。
'Cumberland Hospital； which department？'
'I'd like to speak with Mr Burke； please。 Room 402。
There was an uncharacteristic hesitation； and Ben was about to ask if the room had been changed when the voice said： 'Who is this； please？'
'Benjaman Mears。' The possibility of Matt's death suddenly loomed up in his mind like a long shadow。 Could that be？ Surely not…that would be too much。 'Is he all right？'
'Are you a relative？'
'No； a close friend。 He isn't…'
'Mr Burke died at 3：07 this afternoon； Mr Mears。 If you'd like to hold for just a minute； I'll see if Dr Cody has e in yet。 Perhaps he could 。 。 。 '
The voice went on but Ben had ceased hearing it； although the receiver was still glued to his ear。 The realization of how much he had been depending on Matt to get them through the rest of this nightmare afternoon crashed home with sickening weight。 Matt was dead。 Congestive heart failure。 Natural causes。 It was as if God Himself had turned His face away from them。
Just Mark and I now。
Susan； Jimmy； Father Callahan； Matt。 All gone。
Panic seized him and he grappled with it silently。 He put the receiver back into its cradle without thinking about it； guillotining a question half…asked。
He walked back outside。 It was ten after five。 In the west the clouds were breaking up。
'es to just three dollars even；' Sonny told him brightly。 'That's Doc Cody's car； ain't it？ I see them MD plates and it always makes me think of this movie I seen； this story about a bunch of crooks and one of them would always steal cars with MD plates because…'
Ben gave him three one…dollar bills。 'I've got to split； Sonny。 Sorry。 I've got trouble。'
Sonny's face crinkled up。 'Gee； I'm sorry to hear that； Mr Mears。 Bad news from your editor？'
'I guess you could say that。' He got behind the wheel； shut the door； pulled out； and left Sonny looking after him in his yellow foulweather slicker。
'Matt's dead； isn't he？' Mark asked； watching him。
'Yes。 Heart attack。 How did you know？'
'Your face。 I saw your face。'
It was 5：15。
45
Parkins Gillespie was standing on the small covered porch of the Municipal Building； smoking a Pall Mall and looking out at the western sky。 He turned his attention to Ben Mears and Mark Petrie reluctantly。 His face looked sad and old； like the glasses of water they bring you in cheap diners。
'How are You； Constable？' Ben asked。
'Tolerable；' Parkins allowed。 He considered a hangnail on the leathery arc of skin that bordered his thumbnail； 'Seen you truckin' back and forth。 Looked like the kid was drivin' up from Railroad Street by hisself this last time。 That so？'
'Yes；' Mark said。
'Almost got clipped； Fella goin' the other way missed you by a whore's hair。'
'Constable；' Ben said； 'we want to tell you what's been happening around here。'
Parkins Gillespie spat out the stub of his cigarette without raising his hands from the rail of the small covered porch。 Without looking at either of them； he said calmly； 'I don't want to hear it。'
They looked at him dumbfounded。
'Nolly didn't show up today；' Parkins said； still in that calm； conversational voice。 'Somehow don't think he will。 He called in late last night and said he'd seen Homer McCaslin's car out on the Deep Cut Road…I think it was the Deep Cut he said。 He never called back in。' Slowly； sadly； like a man under water； he dipped into his shirt pocket and reached another Pall Mall out of it。 He rolled it reflectively between his thumb and finger。 'These fucking things are going to be the death of me；' he said。
Ben tried again。 'The man who took the Marsten House； Gillespie。 His name is Barlow。 He's in the basement of Eva Miller's boardinghouse right now。'
'That so？' Parkins said with no particular surprise； 'Vampire； ain't he？ Just like in all the ic books they used to put out twenty years ago。'
Ben said nothing。 He felt more and more like a man lost in a great and grinding nightmare where clockwork ran on and on endlessly； unseen； but just below the surface of things。
'I'm leavin' town；' Parkins said。 'Got my stuff all packed up in the back of the car。 I left my gun and the bubble and my badge in on the shelf。 I'm done with lawin'。 Goin' t'see my sister in Kittery； I am。 Figure that's far enough to be safe。'
Ben heard himself say remotely； 'You gutless creep。 You cowardly piece of shit。 This town is still alive and you're running out on it。'
'It ain't alive；' Parkins said； lighting his smoke with a wooden kitchen match。 'That's why he came here。 It's dead； like him。 Has been for twenty years or more。 Whole country's goin' the same way。 Me and Nolly went to a drive…in show up in Falmouth a couple of weeks ago； just before they closed her down for the season。 I seen more blood and killin's in that first Western than I seen both years in Korea。 Kids was eatin' popcorn and cheerin 'em on。' He gestured vaguely at the town； now lying unnaturally gilded in the broken rays of the westering sun； like a dream village。 'They prob'ly like bein' vampires。 But not me； Nolly'd be in after me tonight。 I'm goin'。'
Ben looked at him helplessly。
'You two fellas want to get in that car and hit it out of here；' Parkins said。 '