Acceptable Risk

20

Tuesday, October 4, 1994

A startlingly loud clap of thunder yanked Kim from the depths of a dream in the blink of an eye. The house was still vibrating from the horrendous noise as she realized she was sitting bolt upright. Sheba had responded to the cataclysm by leaping from the bed and diving beneath it.

Within minutes of the thunder came rain and gusty wind. Having held back for so long, the storm hit with unbridled ferocity. Droplets large enough to sound like hailstones battered the slate roof above Kim’s head. She also heard the rain beat against the screen of the westerly-facing open casement window.

Kim dashed from her bed to the window and began cranking it shut. She could feel the wind carry rainwater into her room. Just as she was about to lock the window in place, a flash of lightning struck the lightning rod on one of the castle’s turrets and filled the entire compound with a blue light.

In the instant the field between the cottage and the castle was illuminated, Kim saw a startling image. It was a ghostlike, scantily clad figure running across the grass. Although Kim couldn’t be certain, since she’d had only the briefest glimpse, she thought it might have been Eleanor.

Kim winced as another clap of thunder came close on the heels of the lightning flash. Ignoring the ringing in her ears, she strained to see out in the darkness. With the driving rain, it was impossible. She waited briefly for another flash of lightning, but none occurred.

Leaving the window, Kim ran through the connecting hall to Edward’s bedroom. She was convinced she’d not been hallucinating; someone was out there. Whether it was Eleanor or not was immaterial. No one should be out in that storm, especially when there was the added danger of the wild animal that had been plaguing the neighborhood.

Edward had to be told. Kim was surprised to find his door closed. He always had it open. Kim knocked. When there was no answer, she knocked louder. When there was still no answer, she looked down at the lock on the old door. A skeleton key protruded from the keyhole, meaning the door couldn’t be locked. Kim opened the door.

From where she was standing Kim could hear Edward’s stertorous breathing. Kim called out to him several times in a progressively louder voice, but he didn’t stir.

Another flash of lightning filled the room with light. Kim got a brief glimpse of Edward sprawled on his back with his arms and legs outstretched. He was clothed in his underwear. One pant leg had not been totally removed; his trousers were draped inside-out over the side of the bed.

Kim again winced in preparation of the thunder, and it didn’t disappoint her. It was as if the storm were centered on the compound.

Turning on the hall light, which spilled into Edward’s room, Kim hurried over to his bedside. She tried calling to him again. When that didn’t work she shook him gently. Not only didn’t he wake up, his breathing didn’t even alter. Kim shook him vigorously, and when that had no effect she began to be concerned. It was as if he were in a coma.

Kim turned on the bedside light to its brightest level. Edward was the picture of tranquility. His face had a slack appearance, with his mouth open. Kim put a hand on each shoulder and shook him insistently, loudly calling his name.

Only then did his breathing change. Then his eyes blinked open.

“Edward, are you awake?” Kim asked. She shook him again and his head flopped from side to side like a rag doll.

Edward appeared confused and disoriented until he noticed Kim. She was still holding his shoulders.

Kim watched Edward’s pupils suddenly dilate similar to those of a cat about to spring. Then his eyes narrowed to mere slits while his upper lip curled back like a snarling beast’s. Edward’s previously flaccid face contorted into an expression of sheer rage.

Shocked by this horrid, unexpected metamorphosis, Kim released his shoulders and backed up. She was stunned he could be so angry at being awakened. Edward let out a throaty sound akin to a growl and sat up. He was staring at her unblinkingly.

Kim bolted for the door, aware that Edward had sprung after her. She heard him fall to the floor, presumably tangled in his partially removed trousers. Kim slammed Edward’s bedroom door behind her, and, using the skeleton key, locked it.

After dashing headlong down the stairs, Kim ran to the phone in the kitchen. She knew that something was terribly wrong with Edward. He wasn’t just angry about being awakened. Something had snapped in his mind.

Kim dialed 911, but as the connection went through she heard the door to Edward’s bedroom splinter and then bang open against the wall. An instant later she could hear Edward snarling at the top of the stairs, followed by the sound of his coming down.

Frightened out of her mind, Kim dropped the phone and headed for the back door. As she reached it she glanced over her shoulder. She caught a glimpse of Edward crashing into the dining room table and throwing it but of his way in his haste. He was totally berserk.

Kim yanked open the door and dashed out into the rain, which was coming down in sheets. Her only thought was to get help, and the closest source was the castle. She rounded the house and struck off across the field, running as fast as she could in the soggy darkness.

A fearful bolt of lightning crackled out of the sky and illuminated the drenched landscape, briefly silhouetting the castle. The thunder followed immediately, reverberating off its looming facade. Kim did not break stride. She was thankful to see lights in some of the windows of the servants’ wing.

Reaching the graveled area in front of the castle, Kim was forced to slow down. Although her panic had shielded her from most of the discomfort of running barefoot, the stones were too painful to disregard. Moving at a pace akin to a fast walk, she headed toward the side of the building, but as she neared the faux drawbridge she noticed that the main entrance was conveniently ajar.

Breathing heavily, Kim rushed inside. She ran straight through the dark front hall into the great room, where dim illumination spilled in from the huge two-story windows facing south. It was light from the surrounding towns reflected off the low cloud cover.

Kim had planned to head through the dining room to the kitchen and the servants’ quarters beyond, but she hadn’t gotten far when she all but collided with Eleanor. A wet, white lace nightgown clung to the woman like a second skin.

Kim stopped short, momentarily paralyzed. She now knew she’d been correct: it had been Eleanor she’d seen running in the field. Kim started to warn her about Edward, but her words died in her throat when she saw Eleanor’s face in the meager light. It had the same unspeakable feral quality that she’d seen in Edward’s when he awoke. To make things worse, Eleanor’s mouth was smeared with blood as if she’d been feeding on raw meat.

Running into Eleanor cost Kim her lead on Edward. Gasping for breath, he staggered into the room and hesitated, savagely eyeing Kim in the half-light. His hair was plastered against his wet head. He was dressed only in his T-shirt and boxer shorts, both of which were covered with mud.

Kim turned to face him. Once again she had to catch her breath at his changed appearance. It was not that his features had altered; it was just that his face reflected a beastly rage.

Edward started toward Kim but then stopped again when he caught sight of his research partner. Ignoring Kim temporarily, he lurched toward Eleanor. When he was within arm’s length, he warily put his head back as if sniffing the air. Eleanor did the same, and they slowly circled each other.

Kim shuddered. It was as if she were caught in a nightmare, watching two wild animals meet in the jungle to check each other to be sure one wasn’t a predator and the other the prey.

Kim slowly backed up while Edward and Eleanor were preoccupied. As soon as she could see a clear route into the dining room, she bolted. Her sudden movement startled the other two. As if by some primeval carnivorous reflex they gave chase.

As Kim rushed through the dining room she yanked a number of the chairs away from the table and threw them behind her in hopes of slowing her pursuers. It worked better than she imagined. As if confused by the unexpected chairs and unable to adjust, Edward and Eleanor collided with them. Amid hideous, inhuman screams they fell. But the ruse did not delay them for long. As Kim passed through the door into the kitchen and cast a fleeting glance over her shoulder, she saw that they were already on their feet, throwing the chairs from their path, mindless of their bruises.

Kim started yelling for help as soon as she entered the servants’ wing, but she didn’t stop running. She reached the stairs and, still screaming, rushed up to the second floor. Without hesitation she burst into the room she knew was occupied by François. He was in his bed, sleeping with the light on.

Kim rushed over to him, calling his name. She shook him frantically, but he didn’t wake up. Kim screamed at him and started to shake him again, but then she froze. Even with her panic she remembered that Edward had been equally hard to arouse.

Kim took a step back. Francis’s eyes slowly opened. Just as it had with Edward, François’s face underwent a savage transformation. His eyes narrowed and his upper lip curled back from his teeth. From his mouth came an inhuman growl. In an instant he’d become a demented, raging animal.

Kim spun around to flee, but Edward and Eleanor had reached the doorway, blocking her exit. Without a second’s hesitation she hurled herself through the connecting door to the suite’s sitting room and then exited to the hall from there. Back in the stairwell, she rushed up to the next level and entered another room she knew was occupied.

Kim stopped at the threshold, her hand still holding the open door. Curt and David were on the floor, scantily dressed and covered with mud. Water dripped from their heads, indicating they had recently been out. In front of them was a partially dismembered cat. Like Eleanor, their faces were smeared with blood.

Kim slammed the door. She could hear the others coming up the stairs. Turning around, she opened the connecting door to the main part of the house. At least she knew her way around.

Kim sprinted the length of the master suite hall. With its southern exposure it was enveloped in similar light as the great room. Kim was able to avoid the console tables, the straight-backed chairs, and the settees. But in her headlong flight she skidded on a throw rug and practically slammed into the door leading into the guest wing. After a moment’s struggle with the knob, she threw open the door. The hall beyond was dark, but knowing there was no furniture, Kim ran blindly.

The next thing she knew she had collided with an unanticipated table that dug into her stomach, knocking her off balance. She fell with a tremendous clatter. For a second she didn’t move, wondering if she had badly injured herself. Her stomach throbbed and her right knee was numb. She could feel something trickle down her arm, and she guessed it was blood.

Kim felt around her in the darkness. Then she realized what she had tripped over. It was the plumbers’ tools and workbench. They had moved their equipment to the guest wing to check and repair the waste pipes there.

Kim listened. She could hear the distant noise of doors opening and slamming shut in the servants’ wing. The sounds suggested to her that the creatures-she was loath to call them people in their current state-were searching for her randomly. They had not followed the only route possible, suggesting that they were not acting intelligently. Kim reasoned they had only limited use of their brains and were operating mostly on instinct and reflex.

Kim stood up. The numbness of her knee was changing to sharp pain. She touched it and could feel it was already beginning to swell.

With her eyes having adjusted to the dark, Kim was able to make out the workbench and some of the other tools. She saw a length of pipe and picked it up as a weapon, but discarded it when she realized it was plastic PVC pipe. Instead she picked up a hammer. But then she discarded that for an acetylene blowtorch and friction lighter. If these creatures chasing her were acting on animal instinct, they’d be terrified of fire.

With the blowtorch in hand, Kim walked as best she could to the guest-wing stairs. She bent over the balustrade and looked down. On the floor below, the hall lights were on. Kim listened again. What noises she heard still seemed to be coming from the opposite end of the house.

Kim started down the stairs but did not get far. After only a few steps she spotted Gloria two floors down on the main level. She was pacing back and forth at the base of the stairs like a cat in front of a lair. Unfortunately Gloria saw Kim and let out a screech, then started up the stairs.

Reversing her direction, Kim fled as fast as she could back down the hall. This time she avoided the plumbers’ equipment. She reentered the main house and hobbled to the top of the main stairs. Behind her she heard a crash and a howl which she presumed was Gloria running into the plumbers’ tools.

Kim descended the main stair, hugging the wall to keep out of view from below. After reaching the landing, she moved slowly to bring progressively more and more of the great room into view. She was relieved when she saw no one.

Taking a deep breath, Kim descended the final flight. Reaching the bottom, she hobbled as rapidly as she could toward the front hall. About ten feet from her goal she stopped. To her utter dismay Eleanor was slinking back and forth at the end of the hall, directly in front of the main entrance. She was pacing just like Gloria had been at the base of the guest-wing stairs. Unlike Gloria, she didn’t see Kim.

Kim quickly stepped to the side so she’d be out of Eleanor’s line of sight. As soon as she did so she realized someone was coming down the main stairs and would soon be on the landing.

With little time to debate the merits, Kim limped frantically back across the room and slipped into the powder room tucked beneath the grand staircase. As silently as possible she closed the door behind her and locked it. Simultaneously she heard footfalls on the stairs directly above her.

Kim tried to control the sound of her labored breathing as she listened to the footsteps continue their descent and then disappear into one of the thick-pile oriental rugs on the marbled great-room floor.

Kim was frightened. In fact, now that she had a moment to grasp the gravity of her situation, she was terrified. She also worried about her knee. And to add to her misery she was wet and cold and violently shivering.

Thinking over the events of the last several days, Kim wondered if the primitive state Edward and the researchers were currently suffering had been occurring on a nightly basis. If it had, and if they had had a suspicion about it, it would explain the marked change in the atmosphere of the lab. With horror Kim realized that there was a good chance the researchers were responsible for the recent troubles in the neighborhood blamed on a rabid animal and teenage vandals.

Kim shuddered in revulsion. It was plainly obvious to her that the ultimate cause was Ultra. By taking the drug, the researchers had become “possessed” in a fashion ironically similar to some of the “afflicted” people in 1692.

These musings gave Kim some hope. If what she was thinking were true, then they must revert back to their normal selves come morning, just like in an old gothic horror movie. All Kim had to do was stay hidden until then.

Kim bent down and put the acetylene torch and lighter on the floor. Groping in the darkness, she found the towel bar and used the towel to dry as much of herself as she could. Her nightgown was soaking wet. Then she draped the towel over her shoulders for a bit of warmth and clasped her arms around herself to try to control her shivering. She sat down on the toilet seat to ease the pressure on her swollen knee.

A period of time passed. Kim had no way of judging how much. The house had become quiet. But then there was a sudden loud crash of breaking glass that made Kim jump. She’d hoped they had given up searching for her, but that apparently wasn’t the case. Immediately following the loud noise, she heard the sounds of doors and cabinets being opened again.

A few minutes later Kim tensed when she again heard one of them coming down the stairs above her. Whoever it was was descending slowly and stopping frequently. Kim stood up. Occasional violent spasms of shivering had made the toilet seat clank against the porcelain reservoir, and she did not want it to happen when one of them was so near.

Kim became progressively aware of another persistent sound that she could not place immediately. Finally she did, and it made her tremble more. Someone was sniffing, much the way Edward had two nights previously by the shed. She remembered Edward telling her that one of the effects they’d noticed taking the drug was how it improved the keenness of the senses. Kim’s mouth went dry. If Edward had been able to smell her lingering cologne the other night, maybe he could smell her now.

As Kim struggled to control her shivering, the person above descended the rest of the way down the stairs. At that point the individual paused again before coming around to stand outside the powder room door.

Kim heard more intense sniffing. Then the doorknob was rattled as someone tried to open the door. Kim held her breath.

Minutes dragged by. It sounded to Kim as if the others were arriving. From their collective sounds Kim could soon tell that a group of them had assembled.

Kim winced as one of them pounded a fist on the door several times. The door held but just barely. It was a paneled door with thin veneers in each panel. Kim knew it would not withstand a concerted assault.

With her panic returning in a rush, Kim quickly squatted down in the darkness and felt for the blowtorch. When her hand did not immediately hit it, her pulse soared. Frantically she felt around in a larger arc. She was relieved when her fingers touched it. Next to it was the lighter.

As Kim straightened up with the blowtorch and the lighter in her hands, the pounding on the door resumed. By the rapidity of the blows she could tell that more than one of the creatures was involved.

With trembling fingers Kim tried the lighter. When she compressed it a spark leaped off into the blackness. Changing hands to hold the torch in her right, Kim twisted the thumbscrew on its side and heard a sustained hiss. Holding the torch and the lighter at arm’s length as she’d seen the plumber do, she compressed the lighter. With a whooshing sound the blowtorch ignited.

No sooner had Kim succeeded in lighting the torch than the door began to crack under the repeated blows. Once it began to break, it rapidly splintered, and bloodied hands appeared through fractures in the panels. To Kim’s horror, the door quickly fell to pieces as the boards were torn away.

With the door gone, the researchers were like frenzied wild animals about to be fed. They all tried to rush into the powder room at the same time. In a confusion of arms and legs, they only succeeded in blocking each other.

Kim pointed the blowtorch at them, holding it at arm’s length. It was making a throaty hissing sound. Its light illuminated their enraged faces. Edward and Curt were closest to Kim. She aimed the torch at them and saw their expressions change from rage to fear.

The researchers shrank back in terror, evincing their atavistic fear of fire. Their beady eyes never left the blue flame issuing from the tip of the blowtorch.

Encouraged by their reaction, Kim stepped from the powder room, keeping the blowtorch out in front of her. The researchers responded by backing away. Kim moved tentatively forward as they retreated. As a group they moved out into the great room, passing beneath one of the massive chandeliers.

After backing for a few more steps, the researchers began to fan out. Kim would have much preferred they stay in a compact group or flee altogether, but she had no way of making them. She could only ward them off. As she moved slowly but relentlessly toward the front hall, they enveloped her. She had to swing the blowtorch around in a circle to keep all of them at bay.

The abject fear that the creatures had initially shown to the flame began to diminish as they became accustomed to it, especially when it wasn’t pointed in their direction. By the time Kim made it past the middle of the room, some of them became bolder, particularly Edward.

At a moment when Kim was pointing the torch in someone else’s direction, Edward rushed forward and grabbed Kim’s nightgown. Kim immediately swung the torch toward him, scorching the back of his hand. He screamed hideously and let go.

Next Curt leaped forward. Kim blistered a swath across his forehead, igniting some of his hair. He yelped in pain and clasped his hands to his head.

On one of her turns Kim saw that she only had another twenty feet to go before she’d reach the hallway, but the constant pirouetting was having an effect on her balance. She was becoming dizzy. She tried to compensate by alternating the direction she spun after each revolution, but the maneuver wasn’t as effective in keeping the researchers away from her.

Gloria managed to step in as Kim was changing directions and grabbed one of Kim’s arms.

Kim yanked herself free of Gloria’s grip, but with her balance already compromised, the sudden motion caused her to twirl out of control, and she fell. In the process of falling, her arm holding the blowtorch hit the edge of a side table with numbing force, causing her to lose her grasp on the blowtorch. The blowtorch bounced off the top of the table and hit the marble floor at a sharp angle, sending it careening across its highly polished surface. It ended up thumping against the far wall at a point where one of the immense damask silk drapes was pooled.

Cradling her injured arm with her good hand, Kim managed to sit up. Looming around and over her were the creatures, closing in for the kill. With a collective screech they fell on her in unison like animals of prey attacking an injured, doomed deer.

Kim screamed and struggled as she was scratched and bitten. Luckily the attack lasted only a few seconds. When a loud, reverberating whooshing sound, accompanied by a sudden bright, hot light interrupted the frenzy, Kim was able to scramble away. With her back against a couch, she looked up at her attackers. They were all staring dumbfounded over her shoulder with their faces reflecting a golden light.

Turning to look behind her, Kim saw a wall of flames expanding with explosive force. The blowtorch had ignited the drapes, and they were burning as if they’d been doused with gasoline.

The creatures voiced a collective wail at the developing inferno. Kim looked back at them and saw terror in their wide eyes. Edward was the first to run, followed instantly by the others. But they didn’t run out the front door. Instead they ran in a panic up the main stairs.

“No, no,” Kim shouted to the fleeing figures. But it was to no avail. Not only did they not understand her, they did not even hear. The roar of the wall of flames sucked sound into its fury like a black hole swallowed matter.

Kim lifted her good arm to protect herself from the searing heat. Getting to her feet she hobbled toward the front door. It was becoming difficult to breathe as the fire consumed the room’s oxygen.

An explosion behind her sent Kim again sprawling onto the floor. She cried out with pain from her injured arm. She guessed the blast had been the blowtorch container detonating. With renewed urgency to get out of the building, she struggled to her feet and staggered forward.

Kim lurched through the door and hobbled out into the gusty wind and driving rain. She limped all the way to the far edge of the graveled area in front of the castle, gritting her teeth against the pain in her arm and knee with every step. Turning around and shielding her face from the heat with her good arm, she looked back at the castle. The old structure was burning like tinder. Flames were already visible in the dormered windows of the attic.

A flash of lightning briefly illuminated the area. For Kim, the scene was like an image of hell. She shook her head in disgust and dismay. Truly the devil had returned to Salem!