The Gates (Samuel Johnson vs. the Devil #1)(34)

? ? ?

As soon as Boswell saw Mrs. Abernathy, he began trying to wriggle out of his collar. It was never kept very tight, mainly because Boswell’s neck was so thin that no collar fit him right. He tugged hard against the leash, and felt the collar begin to rise up against the back of his head. It hurt his ears, but he didn’t stop. He knew that if he was still tied to the gate when the bad lady came she would hurt him, and then she would hurt Samuel. Nobody was going to hurt Samuel, not if Boswell had anything to do with it.

The collar was halfway over his ears when the sound of the nasty lady’s footsteps started to come faster.

? ? ?

Mrs. Abernathy spotted the dog as soon as she rounded the corner. It took her only a moment to identify it as Samuel Johnson’s pet.

“Oh, you naughty boy!” she whispered. “You naughty, naughty little boy.”

She began to run.

Boswell risked a glance to his left, and saw the nasty lady drawing nearer. He gave a final hard tug against the collar, and felt it pull free, almost taking his ears with it. He barked, alternating glances between the path leading into the garden of the big house and the bad lady. He kept hoping that Samuel and his friends would come, yet they didn’t.

Run! he barked. Nasty lady! Run!

Still there was no sign of them. He looked to his left, and saw the nasty lady’s shape begin to change. There were things moving beneath her coat. Suddenly, the material began to tear, and long pink feelers burst through the holes, each one ending in sharp pincers that snapped at the cold air. One extended itself toward him, the pincers making a clicking sound and dripping foul-smelling liquid on the ground. Instinctively he snapped back at it, and it withdrew, but only for a moment. It rose up, like a snake about to strike. Boswell sensed the danger.

With no other choice, he put his tail between his legs and ran away as fast as his little legs would carry him. He thought he felt something graze his coat, but he didn’t look back, not until he had reached the corner. He hid under a car and peered out from behind the wheels. The nasty lady stood for a moment at the garden gate, the long pink tentacles waving against the night sky, then turned away and headed into the garden. Seconds later Boswell heard a terrible sound, one so sharp and piercing that it hurt his ears. It was too high pitched for a human to detect, but Mrs. Abernathy wasn’t trying to contact any human.

She was alerting her fellow demons.





XVII

In Which Mrs. Abernathy Changes Her Plans

TOM PEERED ROUND THE corner of the house, and saw Mrs. Abernathy enter the garden and close the gate carefully behind her. The tentacles moved in the still evening air, the moonlight catching the fluid that dripped from their pincers. Tom counted twelve of them. On the ground at Mrs. Abernathy’s feet lay Boswell’s empty collar. Mrs. Abernathy took three steps forward, then stopped. She cocked her head to one side, as though listening for something, but she did not move any closer to the house.

She was waiting, guarding the gate.

Tom ran back to where Samuel and Maria were waiting beneath the window.

“We’re in trouble,” he said. “There’s a woman in the garden with tentacles sticking out of her back.”

“Mrs. Abernathy,” said Samuel. “What about Boswell?”

“There’s no sign of him. His collar is there, but it’s empty.”

Samuel looked worried. “She couldn’t have . . . ?” he began to say, then trailed off. He didn’t want to utter the words, didn’t want to think about what Mrs. Abernathy might have done to his dog.

Seconds later, he heard Boswell’s bark. It sounded farther away than before, but it was definitely him.

“He’s okay!” said Samuel.

“Yeah, but we’re not,” said Tom. “If she recognized Boswell, she’ll know that you’re here.”

Samuel swallowed hard. “She doesn’t know you and Maria are with me. I could distract her so you two can get away.”

Tom looked at Samuel with something approaching admiration, then hit him hard on the arm.

“Ow!” said Samuel. “What was that for?”

“For being stupid,” said Tom. “We’re not going to leave you here alone.”

Suddenly, Maria’s hand was pushed against his mouth, silencing him. She put a finger to her lips, then withdrew it and pointed at the rectangle of light from the window. The shadow of a man could now be seen against it. They remained very still, hardly daring to breathe. The shadow began to alter. As they watched, eight spiny limbs, like spider legs, emerged from it. Then the shadow turned and began to recede, as whoever, or whatever, it was moved away from the window.

“We have to make a run for it,” said Samuel.

“We can’t go out the way we came in,” said Tom. “That woman’s guarding the gate.”

“And we can’t go over the garden wall,” said Maria. “It’s too high.”

Now noises were coming from inside the house. They heard a vase break, and then shambling footsteps, as though someone who was having trouble walking was approaching the back door.

To their left, Tom saw two plastic boxes filled with empty wine bottles ready for recycling.

“Do you think you could hit those wine bottles with a stone?” he asked Samuel.

“If I had a stone,” said Samuel.