In Laymon's Terms

Originally Published in Bestseller #23, 1985

CHAPTER 1

TROUBLE ON THE SET

The bedroom door flew open. It hit the wall with a loud bang, but the noise didn’t surprise the young woman inside. She kept looking out the window, her back to the gray-haired woman who rushed toward her.

“Melissa!”

The young woman turned around slowly, petting the black cat in her arms. “Yes, Mother?”

The rushing woman stopped suddenly, as if afraid to come closer. “The Higgins boy,” she said in an angry voice.

Melissa smiled at the words and kept on petting her cat. “Higgins? Do you mean Paul Higgins, who threw a rock at my little Midnight?”

“You know good and well who I mean. He’s dead.”

“Aw, that’s too bad,” Melissa purred. “Isn’t that too bad, Midnight?”

The cat rubbed its head against the side of Melissa’s neck.

“You killed him!”

“What a thing to say! Poor Paul. How did he die?” Melissa asked.

“As if you didn’t know. He crashed his motorcycle into a tree. They say a cat ran out in the road in front of him, and he made a sharp turn to keep from hitting it.”

“And when did this awful accident happen?” Melissa looked up at her mother.

“Last night. Right around nine o’clock.”

“Well then, you can’t blame me, Mother. I was right in the front room with you at nine, wasn’t I?”

The older woman shook her head. “Don’t give me that talk! Maybe you can fool everyone else, but you can’t fool me! I know your ways. You hexed that boy, just like you hexed all the others.”

Melissa broke into a smile again and looked right at Midnight. “Mother thinks I’m evil,” she said.

“I know you are! You are evil! If I had my way, I would...”

“You’d what?”

The older woman shook her head. Then she backed away as Melissa took a step toward her.

“You shouldn’t talk to me that way, Mother,” Melissa said in a strange voice.

With a sudden hiss, the cat raked its paw across Melissa’s face. Melissa screamed and tried to push the cat away. But the animal hung on, scratching and biting like a black whirlwind—

“Stop the action! Cut! Cut!” the director yelled as he jumped out of his seat. “Somebody help her! What’s wrong with that cat?”

Groups of stagehands started rushing onto the movie set. But Neal reached the woman ahead of everyone else. He grabbed the cat and pulled it away. But then the animal turned on him, spitting and scratching at the back of his hand. Neal threw the cat into the air. It turned over, landed on its feet, and ran away across the sound stage.

Neal turned to the young woman. Her eyes were wide, and she was breathing heavily. Blood dripped from her scratched cheek. Her arms and hands were bleeding too.

Neal wasn’t sure what to do. “Are you OK?” he asked. Then he thought, What a dumb thing to say!

“I’m...” The young woman shook her head. “Thank you.”

The director ran up and stepped in front of Neal. “Lynda? What happened?”

The young woman shook her head again.

“I’ll tell you what happened,” said the woman who had played Melissa’s mother. “That cat just suddenly went crazy.”

“I’ve never seen him that way,” said a dark-haired man named Bill. Neal knew he was the cat’s trainer. “Duncan’s always been so gentle.”

The director sighed. “Well, we’ll have to get another cat. And we won’t be able to shoot any more today. Come with me, Lynda. I’ll get you over to the first aid station.” He sighed again. “Why do these things always happen to me?”

Neal watched Lynda make her way across the floor. Then he turned and started to walk off the set.

“Wait!” It was Lynda’s voice.

Neal looked around.

“He’s hurt, too, Hal,” she told the director, pointing back at Neal.

“All right. Come along with us, young man. I’ll have the doctor...” Hal suddenly frowned. “Who are you?”

“Neal Portis,” Neal said. He tried to smile as he spoke.

“Is that name supposed to mean something to me? Who are you? What do you do here?”

Neal felt his face getting red. “I was just passing by.”

“Passing by? You’re not with the studio?” shouted the director.

“No, sir.”

“How did you get through the gate?”

“I think...well, the man there seems to think I work here.”

“He does, does he? Well I’ll put a stop to...”

“Stop it, Hal,” Lynda broke in. “Please. He didn’t hurt anything. And he did help. He got the cat off me. Can’t you just leave him alone?”

“I should have him kicked out.” Hal shook a finger at Neal. “You’ve no business being here, young man.”

“Hal!”

“OK, OK, Lynda. But I want you out of here, Mr. Portis.”

Neal could hear Lynda’s “Thanks again, Neal” as Hal pulled her through the door.

CHAPTER 2

A PHONE CALL

Neal was reading a book. The Genius of Alfred Hitchcock, when the telephone rang. A few seconds later, his mother called from the hallway. “Neal, it’s for you.”

He lifted the phone from the nearby lamp table. “Hello?”

“Hi. Is this the famous Neal Portis who sneaks onto movie lots and saves people from crazy cats?”

Neal’s heart started pounding hard. “This is him...he.”

“This is Lynda Connors. Too bad your father’s name is William. If it were Andrew, I would’ve gotten to you a lot sooner. Do you know there are about 15 Portis families in Los Angeles who’ve never heard of you?”

Neal laughed.

“Anyway, I wanted to thank you again for getting that cat off me,” Lynda went on.

“How are you doing?”

“I’m going to try out for Return of the Mummy while I still look right for the part.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I wish I’d been faster.”

“You were great,” said Lynda. “I’m just sorry Hal treated you that way. He can be such a creep. I can get you into the studio tomorrow, though. I made Hal give me a visitor’s pass for you.”

“Hey, terrific!”

“I could have it waiting for you at the front gate tomorrow, or would you rather come over and pick it up?”

“Where?”

“My house.”

“Now?” asked Neal, not believing what he was hearing.

“If you’re not doing anything.”

“Well...yeah. Sure.”

She told him where she lived.

Neal parked in front of Lynda’s home. It wasn’t a huge place, as he had thought it might be. Instead, it was a fairly old, two-story house. As he turned off his car engine, the front door opened.

Lynda came out. She wore jeans and a baggy sweatshirt and carried a purse. Her hair, caught by a breeze, blew away from the left side of her face. Neal saw that her whole cheek was covered with a large, white bandage.

“Hi,” she said as she came up to the car. “I’d ask you in, but my parents are getting ready for a party. They’re running around like chickens with their heads cut off.”

Neal opened the door and got out to stand next to Lynda. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Lynda took a card from her purse. “Here’s the pass,” she said, handing it to Neal.

“Thanks.”

“Now you won’t have to sneak in anymore.” She smiled. “Why do you do that, anyway?”

“It’s like school,” he said.

“What?”

“I’m going to be a director,” Neal explained. “I study film at USC. It’s great, but it’s not like being at a real studio watching a real director at work. So I’ve been sneaking into studios. Fox, Paramount, MGM, all of them. I’ve been doing it since I was 16. Mostly during summer vacation.”

Lynda shook her head and grinned. “You get away with it?”

“Oh, I get kicked out sometimes. But I keep going back. The trick is to look as if you belong there.”

“I’m sure glad you were there today,“ Lynda said.

“Me, too.”

In the light from the streetlamp, Lynda noticed the bandage on the back of his hand. “With these bandages,” she said, “we’re like a matching set.”

“Yeah, but your face was hurt, too. I hope it will be all right.”

“The doctor said there shouldn’t be scars, but I guess I’ll be messed up for a while.”

“And they’re still going ahead with the film?” asked Neal.

“Sure. A delay would cost them too much. They’ll just keep the cat attack in the film to explain the scratches. Hal’s trying to get his hands on a stuffed cat for tomorrow.”

“They ought to stuff Duncan.”

Lynda laughed. “No, he’s a sweet old cat. At least, he has been. I don’t know what got into him. He’s been in lots of movies.”

“Do you want to go to a movie?” The question sprang from Neal’s mouth before he even knew he was asking it.

“You mean tonight?”

“Yes,” he said. His throat felt so tight that he almost didn’t get the word out.

“With you?”

Now Neal couldn’t speak at all. He forced his head to nod.

Lynda looked into his eyes.

Neal thought his face was on fire.

“Great!” she said. “Just hang on. I’d better let Mom and Dad know.” Neal let out a deep breath. He couldn’t believe that he had just asked Lynda Connors for a date.

And he couldn’t believe that she had answered, “Great!”

CHAPTER 3

AT THE MOVIES

On her way out of the house, Lynda grabbed a newspaper. She hurried to the car and climbed in. “You pick,” she said, handing the paper to Neal.

He turned on a light and looked at the movie pages. “How about The Phantom?”

“Haven’t you seen it?” Lynda asked.

“Not often enough. The woman in it is really terrific.”

“You mean Leigh Owens?”

“I mean Lynda Connors,” said Neal with a grin.

“Thank you. But...well, if you really want to see it, OK. I feel kind of funny, though, seeing myself on the screen.”

“We’ll go somewhere else, then.”

“How about a comedy? I don’t feel much like a fright film at the moment.” She leaned over to see the movie pages, and together they found a movie that neither of them had seen. It was playing only a few miles away. Neal started driving. “Don’t you like scary films?” he asked.

“Most of the time I do. But not since I started working on Night of the Witch. It’s just too creepy. It’s a true story, you know.”

“No, I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah. That’s what makes it so bad. I didn’t want to make the film in the first place, but...well, Dad got laid off by the airline. He’s a pilot, and...” She shook her head. “I just didn’t think I should turn down the part, even though I hated it. That Melissa is so awful. She ends up killing her mother.”

“In real life?” Neal asked, stopping for a red light.

“In real life,” Lynda said. “Melissa’s real name is Elizabeth Doyle. They made her name Melissa in the screenplay. I guess she could have sued if they used her real name. Anyway, she was 18 when she killed her mother. Maybe you heard about it. Her picture and the story were in the paper about three years ago.”

Neal shook his head and drove on.

“Well,” Lynda said, “when Elizabeth was tried in court, all this stuff came out about her having strange powers. There were stories that she killed or hurt people she didn’t like by using her powers. None of it was proved, though. They couldn’t even put her away for killing her mother. Not enough evidence.”

“So she just got off?”

“Scot-free.”

“I wonder if she knows you’re making a film about her?”

“Man, I hope not,” Lynda said. “Anyway, it’s no fun playing someone like her. I hate it.”

The movie started as Neal and Lynda bought popcorn and two sodas. But when they went inside, they saw that the theater was almost empty. Lynda was glad about that. Sitting down, she smiled to think that tonight she wouldn’t have anyone’s head in the way of the screen.

She settled into her seat and started on the popcorn.

A woman sat down right in front of Lynda, blocking the screen with her wild blonde hair. Lynda couldn’t believe it. She looked over at Neal.

He shook his head as if to say, “What a jerk.” Then he whispered, “Let’s move over.”

Lynda started to turn. Then, in the low light, she saw a small dark shape crawl out from under a blonde curl of the woman’s hair. Lynda caught her breath. She took hold of Neal’s arm and pulled him down again into the seat. With her mouth close to his ear, she whispered, “Did you see that? There’s a spider in her hair.”

Neal gave Lynda a look that was half frown, half smile. “Are you kidding?” he whispered back.

Lynda pointed.

Neal looked. The spider was still there. They watched it crawl over the woman’s hair.

Neal made a face. Then he looked at Lynda, shook his head, and leaned forward. “Excuse me,” he said to the woman in front of them. “You seem to have a spider in your hair.”

The woman turned around.

Neal jerked back. Lynda dropped her drink. She felt cold all over as she stared at the woman’s face.

It was covered with spiders. They crawled over her lips, her cheeks, her forehead.

“Lynda,” the woman said. “Do not make that film about me.”

Then spiders flew from the woman’s face as if blown by a wind. Lynda had only enough time to shut her eyes and mouth before they fell on her. She wanted to scream but didn’t dare. Instead, she jumped up, knocking the awful crawling things from her face and neck. When most were gone, she opened her eyes and ran. Neal caught up with her in front of the theater. Lynda was shaking as she brushed spiders off her sweatshirt and out of her hair. Neal helped. Then he looked her over. “I think that’s all of them,” he said.

Lynda tried to calm herself down, but her voice was shaky. “It was her,“ she said. “Elizabeth Doyle.”

“Come on. I’d better take you home.”

Together they walked to Neal’s car. “I just can’t believe it,” she said. “How...how did she find us?”

“Maybe she followed us from your place.”

Quickly they both looked around. No one was behind them.

“What’ll I do?” Lynda asked. “This is awful.”

“Maybe you should drop out of the movie.”

“I can’t. I just can’t.”

“Then she might try something else,” Neal said.

They reached the car. Neal checked the back seat before letting Lynda climb in. He hurried to his side.

“Neal?” Lynda said as he started the engine. She sat low on the seat, her arms wrapped around herself as if she were cold. “Do you think Elizabeth also made that cat attack me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think she does have those strange powers?”

“I’ve never believed in that stuff,” said Neal. “But what she did with those spiders...”

“Neal,” said Lynda, “thanks for being there. If you hadn’t seen it too, I’d think I was losing my mind.”

CHAPTER 4

A STUFFED CAT

Neal frowned when he saw Lynda the next morning. The bandage was gone from her face. The scratches on her cheek were bright red, as if they had started bleeding again.

“Don’t worry, it’s just makeup,” she said as she came toward him. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“The pass worked beautifully. How are you feeling?”

“OK, I guess. A little crawly when I think about last night.”

“I almost hoped you wouldn’t be here,” said Neal.

“That I’d stop working on the film? Mom and Dad tried to talk me into that, too. They got pretty worried when I told them what happened.”

“OK, Lynda,” the director called. “You’re on.”

“Right away, Hal,” she called back. Then she turned to Neal. “When I’m done with this scene, I’ll be through for the day. See you then.” She smiled and hurried away.

Neal moved to the side so he could see better. The set, Melissa’s bedroom, was the same as yesterday. He watched Hal talk to Lynda. He smiled when he saw that Hal was holding a stuffed black cat by one leg. The cat hung stiffly at his side. It was stuffed, all right. No funny business today. At least, he hoped not.

Neal looked around. A few women stood at the end of the set. He wished he had been able to see Elizabeth’s face better last night. But he had just seen it in the darkness for a second as the spiders flew off. He only knew for sure that Elizabeth was thin and tall like Lynda. And about 21 years old. None of these women looked like her. So far, so good.

Neal turned his eyes back to the set. Hal, holding the stuffed cat with its mouth to his shoulder, was throwing himself back against the bedroom wall. He screamed in fright as he pretended to fight off the cat. Then he threw it across the floor. “That’s all there is to it,” he told Lynda.

She nodded.

Hal returned to his chair.

“Quiet on the set.”

A young man stepped in front of the camera with a clapper. On it was written “NIGHT OF THE WITCH, SCENE 13 TAKE 2.” The man spoke the words. Then Hal called out, “Action.”

The man clapped down the wooden arm on the board.

Lynda, holding the stuffed cat just as Hal had shown her; cried out and threw herself against the wall. She let out an awful scream. Then she hurled the cat away. It hit the floor hard.

Lynda fell to her knees. Her face was twisted with fright as she stared at the cat.

“Cut!” Hal called as he jumped to his feet. “Beautiful, beautiful! Lovely!”

But Lynda stayed on her knees. Gasping loudly for air, she shook her head wildly.

“You can stop, Lynda,” Hal told her. “That’s all we need. It’s over.”

Suddenly Neal felt a cold knot in his stomach.

He ran to Lynda and pulled her up. She grabbed his arm and looked at him with wide, frightened eyes.

“What happened?” he asked. “Are you OK?”

“It moved!” Lynda cried. “It moved! It tried to bite me!”

CHAPTER 5

WHAT THE FUTURE HOLDS

“Everyone thinks I’m crazy,” Lynda said.

“I don’t,” said Neal.

Sighing, Lynda rolled down the window of Neal’s car. The warm ocean air blew against her face and through her hair. “Maybe I am crazy,” she said. “Maybe I just imagined the cat was...I don’t know.”

“I don’t know, either,” Neal told her. “But if Elizabeth can make spiders jump off her face at you, I guess she could make a stuffed cat try to bite you.”

He drove into the Venice Beach parking lot as he spoke. Then he stopped the car and got out a large straw basket.

“You’re kidding,” said Lynda.

“We’re having a picnic!”

“How did you know I was starving?” asked Lynda as she peeked inside the basket.

“It didn’t take strange powers of the mind to figure out,” said Neal, making her laugh.

Together, they carried the picnic basket down toward the beach through the hot sand. They found a spot away from the crowd and sat down. The sound of the waves and the fresh air made Lynda forget about Elizabeth and spiders and cats. Somehow, the strange things that had happened seemed far away and unreal.

As they ate, Neal talked about himself and his family. Lynda laughed at his jokes and, for the first time in days, she felt almost happy.

When they finished eating, they took a long walk down the beach. Then they headed for Ocean Front Walk.

There, they looked at what was for sale on tables set up beside the street. People were selling clothes, rings, paintings, toys, radios, almost everything. Then they came to a man with roller skates for rent.

“Want to give it a try?” Neal asked.

They got skates from the man and put them on. Lynda stepped onto the street. Neal followed her on shaking legs. “Don’t crash,” she called over her shoulder. She rolled along slowly, being careful not to bump people walking or skating in her way. Other skaters flashed past her. Some danced and did tricks. Finding a clear spot, Lynda spun around in a circle. She stayed on her feet and saw Neal fall on his hands and knees, laughing.

Then she saw the fortune teller.

The old woman was sitting behind a well-used card table. With a red scarf over her hair, large earrings, and a long dress, she really looked the part. She was staring into the crystal ball. Next to the ball was a deck of Tarot cards. And at the front of the table a sign read:

FORTUNES TOLD

LEARN WHAT THE FUTURE HOLDS!

LOVE? MARRIAGE? BUSINESS?

Madame Agatha Tells All!

$10.00

Neal brushed himself off and skated slowly up beside Lynda. “Why don’t you give it a try?” she said to him.

“Give what a try?”

“Have Madame Agatha tell your fortune.”

Neal took a quick look at the old woman. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Scared?” Lynda asked, smiling.

“Right. Not that I believe in that stuff. But whatever she’s got to say, I don’t want to hear it. Don’t let me stop you, though.”

“Chicken.”

“That’s me.”

Lynda laughed, but she felt a little funny as she skated up to the table. “I guess I’d like you to tell my fortune,” she said to the old woman.

“Sit down,” Madame Agatha told her.

Lynda sat on a chair and looked into the fortune teller’s clear blue eyes.

The old woman held out a hand. “Cross my palm,” she said.

Lynda put two five dollar bills in her hand. Looking back, she saw that Neal was standing behind her.

“Tarot cards, the crystal ball, or your palm?” the old woman asked in a low voice.

“The ball, I guess.”

Madame Agatha moved closer and stared into the clear glass. After a moment, she said, “I see dark times for you. In the past and in the future. I see animals attacking you.”

Lynda’s heart pounded. “Yes. That has...uh, already happened.”

“You are an actress. Yes. And you are making a movie.”

“That’s right,” Lynda whispered. She wet her dry lips.

“You must stop making that movie. If you do not stop, you will die.”

Lynda jerked her eyes away from the crystal ball. She forced herself to look up at the old woman across the table.

“You will die!” Madame Agatha said again. Then, in a flash, she pulled off her scarf. Her gray hair came off with it, letting her real, blonde hair be seen. Then she started pulling off the old, dry skin from her face.

Lynda couldn’t move. It’s not skin, she thought, it’s makeup. She could only stare at the pretty young face now before her.

“Do not make the film about me, Lynda!” The woman stood up and pushed the card table over on Lynda.

Lynda jumped from her chair, forgetting about her skates. Her feet flew out from under her but Neal caught her from behind.

They both fell.

When Lynda looked up, Madame Agatha—Elizabeth—was gone.

CHAPTER 6

TRAPPED

“I can’t see you tonight,” Lynda said.

The words gave Neal an empty feeling. “What’s wrong?” he asked into the phone.

“It’s my parents. They’re afraid more crazy stuff will happen if I go out.”

“The Pizza Palace would be safe,” he told her.

“They don’t think so. I’m sorry Neal. Really. I tried to talk them out of it.”

“Well...”

“I asked them if you could come over here, but they didn’t go for that, either. They won’t be here, and...”

“You mean they’re leaving you alone?”

“One of Dad’s friends is having a dinner party.”

“They can’t leave you alone!”

“They think I’ll be safe as long as I stay in the house. I’m sorry, Neal. Look, I’ll see you tomorrow at the studio. OK?”

After they hung up, Neal picked up his book, The Genius of Alfred Hitchcock. He tried to read it, but couldn’t. He could only think about Lynda all alone in her house.

Lynda sat in the living room and stared at the television. She missed Neal. She had really been looking forward to going out with him.

Whatever made her parents think that she was safer here, alone, than at the crowded Pizza Palace with Neal? Did they think Elizabeth hadn’t already found out where she lived?

That thought gave her the creeps.

She decided to phone Neal again. Even though he couldn’t come over, she would feel better if she just talked to him.

She called his number.

“Hello?” his father said.

“Hi. This is Lynda. May I please speak to Neal?”

Neal’s father didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he said, “Do you mean he’s not there? He left here an hour ago. He said he was on his way over to your house.”

Lynda closed her eyes. “He’s not here,” she said.

“That’s strange.” Mr. Portis sounded worried.

“Yes. It is. Well...if he shows up, I’ll have him give you a call.”

“Yes. Please do.”

Lynda hung up the phone. For a moment, she frowned at the television. Then she walked across the living room and looked out the front window. She stared through the darkness outside the house.

Then she let out a long breath.

Neal’s car was parked across the street. She could see his dark shape behind the wheel.

He’s worried about me, she thought. He’s so worried he came over to make sure everything was all right.

Grinning, she rushed to the front door. She started to turn the lock. It wouldn’t move. She pulled on the door handle. She tried the lock again. The door wouldn’t open.

Elizabeth?

The thought made her skin crawl.

Whirling around, she ran into the kitchen. She grabbed at the back door handle. As it came off in her hands, the lights went out.

Neal, watching from his car, saw the house go dark. Only minutes ago, the voice on his car radio had given the time as 9:00 P.M.

It seemed pretty early for Lynda to be going to bed.

And why would she turn off the porch light? After all, her parents were still out.

It seemed very strange.

Neal waited for light to fill one of the upstairs windows.

They all stayed dark.

Something is wrong, he thought. Sick with worry, he threw open the car door and raced across the street.

Lynda ran through the dark house. If only she could reach the front door and call out to Neal!

But how could he get in? The doors were locked for him, too. And all the downstairs windows were locked.

I’m trapped in here, Lynda thought, and Neal can’t help me. Not this time.

But if she could call out to him...

She was halfway across the living room, rushing past the dark shape of a low table, when something caught her hair. She cried out as her head snapped back. She fell, crashing against the floor.

A face came down close to her own.

“You didn’t listen to me, Lynda. So now you will die.”

Lynda tried to lift her head, but her hair was pinned down—probably by Elizabeth’s knee.

“Please,” Lynda gasped. “Don’t. They’ll make the movie anyway. They’ll just...find someone else to play the part.”

“The picture will not be made.”

Lynda could just make out the woman’s hand beginning to rise. It held a large knife.

“No!” Lynda screamed. She hit Elizabeth in the side as hard as she could. As Elizabeth fell over, Lynda rolled out from under her. Then she pushed herself to her feet and ran to the stairway. She dashed up them, taking three at a time.

“You can’t get away from me!” Elizabeth cried out. From the sound of her voice, she wasn’t far behind.

Lynda got to the top of the stairs. She raced to her bedroom. As she got to it, she looked back. Elizabeth was rushing toward her. Quickly Lynda ran inside and locked the door. Spinning around, she picked up her desk chair. She rushed to the window and threw the chair against it. The glass exploded. The chair flew out and fell through the night.

In the silence that followed, she heard the lock click and give way. Lynda looked back. Her door suddenly swung open. Elizabeth stood there, the knife still in her hand.

Lynda climbed onto the window sill and stared at the dark lawn below. It looked like a long way down.

But it was better to jump and risk a broken leg—or worse—than to face Elizabeth.

Just then she heard footsteps rushing up behind her.

She jumped.

A hand grabbed her right ankle. It stopped her fall. She swung down and slammed against the outside wall of the house.

“You can’t get away from me!” Elizabeth cried.

Lynda hung upside down below the window, yelling. She tried to grab the wall as Elizabeth started to pull her up. “No!” she shouted. Then, with her free foot, she kicked the hand that held her.

Elizabeth yelled and let her go.

Lynda dropped head-first toward the ground. As she fell, she caught sight of someone running toward her across the grass.

Neal slammed into her shoulder. The block knocked her sideways, and smashed Neal to the ground.

Neal gasped for air. Lynda had landed on top of him, knocking the wind out of him. He felt her pull herself off him.

“Are you OK?” she asked.

“I...think so.” The grass was wet. He pushed himself to his hands and knees. “How about you?”

“Nothing broken, I think.”

She helped him stand up. On the ground nearby, the moonlight played on pieces of broken chair and glass.

“Are you cut?” Neal asked.

“I don’t think so.

“Me neither. We were lucky.”

“I’ll say. Elizabeth...she...”

Lynda and Neal quickly looked up at the high bedroom window. No one was there.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here,” said Neal. “We’ll go to my house and call the police from there.”

They ran to Neal’s car. Just before they reached it, Lynda looked back over her shoulder at the house. She gasped.

Neal turned around. The house lights were on again. The front door stood open.

Then, as they stared, a black cat came slowly out. It stopped on the porch and began to rub its head against the railing. Finally, it sat down, its long tail curled behind it.

“Let’s go,” Neal whispered.

They climbed into his car. The cat bared its teeth and hissed as Neal and Lynda sped away.

CHAPTER 7

FUNERAL HOME

The next morning, Neal knocked on Lynda’s dressing room door. “It’s me,” he called.

“Come on in.”

He walked into the small room. Lynda was wearing cut-off jeans and an orange shirt. She smiled up at him in the mirror. Her bandages were gone. She was putting on her makeup. “How are you doing?” he asked.

“I feel like I was hit by a car.”

“I feel a little run down, myself.”

She laughed, but there was a worried look in her eyes.

“I wish you would quit,” Neal said.

“If I did, they’d just get another actress. Then Elizabeth would go after her. Besides, I’m mad now. If she thinks she can scare me off from making this film, she can forget it.”

“But—” Neal started in.

Lynda made a point of closing the subject by turning her back on Neal. She crossed the room and took a black dress down from where it hung on the wall. “How do you like this?” she asked brightly.

“I’m not crazy about black,” Neal answered.

“I’m not, either. But today Melissa is visiting a funeral home. She’s paying her respects to that kid she supposedly killed.”

“The one who crashed his motorcycle?”

“That’s the one.” She put a black veil over her face. “Cute, huh?”

“Real cute.”

Lynda let out a long sigh. “Well, you’d better get out of here, now. I have to change.”

Neal nodded. “See you on the set,” he told her and left.

When he got to the sound stage, props were being set up. Cameras and lights were being moved into place. He looked at the women who were putting things into place. They were the same ones he had seen the day before. He saw no strangers, no one who might be Elizabeth.

Still, he worried.

Then he noticed a wooden casket resting on a table in the middle of the stage. Red curtains hung behind it. Neal stared at the casket. He pictured Elizabeth hiding inside it—waiting to jump out.

Carefully, he stepped over wires and walked onto the stage. He stopped beside the casket. Looking around, he saw that no one was watching him. Quickly, he raised the lid.

Elizabeth was not there.

But a knife was—stuck through a picture of Lynda.

Neal felt an icy chill crawl over his skin.

She’s here, he thought. Elizabeth is here—someplace.

He pulled the knife out. Then he took the picture of Lynda and put it in his pocket. He closed the casket. As he left the stage, he looked around again at every face he saw.

He didn’t see Elizabeth.

Quietly he dropped the knife into a nearby wastebasket.

“Perfect,” Hal said. “You look the part, Lynda.”

Neal turned just in time to see Lynda walking past a camera. She nodded at Hal, then turned her head toward Neal. With the veil over her face, he couldn’t see if she looked nervous or if she was smiling. He watched as she lifted the long black dress above her ankles and stepped onto the stage.

From the chair, Hal spoke to her. “This should be a piece of cake, Lynda. No cats on the set.” He laughed. Then he went on. “After you open the casket, I want you to look into it for a while, as if you’re really sad.”

Neal rolled his eyes. He was very glad he had taken the knife and picture out of the casket.

“Then turn around slowly and face the camera,” Hal went on. “Pull off your veil and start laughing. Just a little laugh at first, but build it up until you’re laughing like crazy. You’re crazy. A real case for the funny farm. Laugh like one. Got it?”

The veiled face nodded.

“OK,” Hal called. “Quiet on the set?”

She stood with her back to the camera. Neal watched her instead of the man with the clapper.

“Action,” Hal said.

Slowly she walked toward the casket. She raised its lid. Then, suddenly, she whirled around.

“No, no, no!” Hal shouted. “Cut! That was all wrong! You’re supposed to...”

She pulled the veil way from her face.

Neal felt his legs go weak.

The woman in the black dress was not Lynda. It was Elizabeth.

“You shall not make this film!” she screamed.

Lynda opened her eyes. She was lying face down on the floor, less than a yard from her side, was a coiled rattlesnake.

Lynda froze. She didn’t dare breathe.

The rattlesnake looked huge. The sight of it staring at her made her skin crawl.

Elizabeth, she thought. Elizabeth did this.

Then she thought, if I don’t move, maybe it won’t strike.

But she couldn’t lie there forever. She looked away, hunting with her eyes for a weapon. The wire hanger that had held her dress lay on the floor within reach.

I wonder where the dress is, Lynda thought. Then she knew. Elizabeth must have taken it. She must have put it on and gone over to the set. What would she do once she got there?

The others had to be warned.

Neal!

She looked at the hanger again. It wouldn’t be much good as a weapon. But her dressing-table chair wasn’t far away. If she could get to it she could use it to...

Slowly, Lynda got to her hands and knees, keeping her eyes on the big snake. The noise of the snake’s rattle grew in her ears.

Quickly she sprang for the chair.

The snake shot toward her. Lynda threw her arm out and did her best to block it.

Neal stared at the woman in black. What had she done to Lynda?

He started to run toward Lynda’s dressing room. But at that moment, Hal jumped up from his chair. “Who are you?” he yelled at the woman. “Get out of—”

Before Hal could finish speaking a huge camera shot across the floor on its rollers. Hal jumped out of its way, falling over his chair. The big camera smashed into a light stand. The light fell and exploded against the floor.

Then the curtains on the wall behind the casket flew up into the air. They waved high above the stage. They tore loose from their rods and whirled over everyone.

People began to yell and scream. Some ran away. Others stood still, staring as the curtains whirled around a big light and slammed it to the floor.

The other curtain dropped onto a stagehand who had dared to run at Elizabeth. It covered him, and he fell to the floor.

“Fire!” someone yelled.

Neal saw a blazing curtain uncurl itself from the light it had smashed. It started to rise from the floor. The people near it ran away.

But Neal raced to the burning curtain. He stepped on a corner to hold it down. With his other foot, he tried to stamp out the flames. Then suddenly the curtain whirled around him. It held him tightly, leaving only his legs free. With all the power he had, Neal ran toward Elizabeth.

The wild, excited look on her face turned to fear as Neal threw himself against her. He knocked her backward. Her head crashed against the casket. As he fell down on top of her, he felt the curtain come loose. He struggled off her onto the floor and rolled away, trying to put out his burning clothes.

Then he heard a loud noise and felt a blast of cold on his back.

Hal, standing above him, kept spraying with the fire extinguisher even after the flames were out.

Then Hal rushed to the other blaze. He pointed the extinguisher at Elizabeth’s burning body.

But nothing happened.

Hal turned to Neal. “It’s empty,” he said.

CHAPTER 8

NIGHT OF THE WITCH

“The last time we came to this theater...,” Neal began. But Lynda made a face as they moved to the end of the line.

“I don’t want to think about the last time,” she said. “Yuck!”

“It doesn’t seem like that long ago, though, does it?” Neal asked. “But it’s almost a year.”

“It seems like last night.”

A young girl waiting ahead of them stared at Lynda. Her eyes opened wide. Then she turned and whispered to a friend. They both looked back, then whispered some more.

Lynda smiled at the two girls. They walked right up to her.

“Hey,” said the one who had first spotted Lynda. “Is that you?”

“It’s me, all right.”

“Lynda Connors?”

She nodded.

“Wow! I’ve seen Might of the Witch three times already. It’ll be four after tonight. It’s so creepy!”

“Is all that stuff true?” the girl asked. “About how the real Melissa tried to kill you and everything?”

Lynda nodded.

“Did you really get bitten by a rattlesnake?” asked the other.

“She almost died,” Neal said.

Lynda squeezed his hand. “This is my friend, Neal.”

“Are you the guy that killed that crazy lady?”

“Well, I knocked Elizabeth down,” Neal told her. “She was killed by the fire she started.”

“Wow! They should make a movie about all that! Wouldn’t that be neat? You two could star in it and play yourselves!”

Lynda shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said.

“Would you mind if I took a picture of you two?” one of the girls asked.

“Not at all,” said Lynda.

The first girl took a small camera out of her very large purse. She stepped back and looked through it. “OK. Man, this’ll be great. Say ‘cheese.’ Now...wait a minute. There’s something moving in the picture. Hey, it’s a black cat. Get out of here. Shoo!”

Lynda looked at Neal. Together, they turned around. A big black cat sat up on a window sill behind them. It rubbed its head with its paw. Then it looked at them with bright green eyes.

“Oh no!” Lynda gasped. “It couldn’t be...”

“No, it couldn’t,” Neal said. But his hand tightened on hers. They both watched as the cat jumped down from the window and walked away up the street.

“OK. I’m ready,” the girl with the camera was calling to them. “Say ‘cheese,’ will you?”

“She’s right,” Lynda said to Neal. “This is a time for happy pictures.”

She put one arm around Neal, and they both turned back to face the camera.

“Cheese,” they said and smiled.