Firestarter(42)

"I won't say flat out that I don't believe you," Irv said finally. "Not with some of the things that have gone on under cover in this country and then come out. CIA guys giving people drinks spiked with LSD and some FBI agent accused of killing people during the Civil Rights marches and money in brown bags and all of that. So I can't say right out that I don't believe you. Let's just say you haven't convinced me yet."

"I don't think it's even me that they really want anymore," Andy said. "Maybe it was, once. But they've shifted targets. It's Charlie they're after now."

"You mean the national government is after a first- or second-grader for reasons of national security?"

"Charlie's no ordinary second-grader," Andy said. "Her mother and I were injected with a drug which was coded Lot Six. To this day I don't know exactly what it was. Some sort of synthetic glandular secretion would be my best guess. It changed the chromosomes of myself and of the lady I later married. We passed those chromosomes on to Charlie, and they mixed in some entirely new way. If she could pass them on to her children, I guess she'd be called a mutant. If for some reason she can't, or if the change has caused her to be sterile, I guess she'd be called a sport or a mule. Either way, they want her. They want to study her, see if they can figure out what makes her able to do what she can do. And even more, I think they want her as an exhibit. They want to use her to reactivate the Lot Six program."

"What is it she can do?" Irv asked.

Through the kitchen window they could see Norma and Charlie coming out of the barn. The white sweater flopped and swung around Charlie's body, the hem coming down to her calves. There was high color in her cheeks, and she was talking to Norma, who was smiling and nodding.

Andy said softly, "She can light fires." "Well, so can I," Irv said. He sat down again and was looking at Andy in a peculiar, cautious way. The way you look at people you suspect of madness.

"She can do it simply by thinking about it," Andy said. "The technical name for it is pyrokinesis. It's a psi talent, like telepathy, telekinesis, or precognition-Charlie has a dash of some of those as well, by the way-but pyrokinesis is much rarer... and much more dangerous. She's very much afraid of it, and she's right to be. She can't always control it. She could burn up your house, your barn, or your front yard if she set her mind to it. Or she could light your pipe." Andy smiled wanly. "Except that while she was lighting your pipe, she might also burn up your house, your barn, and your front yard."

Irv finished his beer and said, "I think you ought to call the police and turn yourself in, Frank. You need help." "I guess it sounds pretty nutty, doesn't it?" "Yes," Irv said gravely. "It sounds nutty as anything I ever heard." He was sitting lightly, slightly tense on his chair, and Andy thought, He's expecting me to do something loony the first chance I get.

"I suppose it doesn't matter much anyway," Andy said. "They'll be here soon enough. I think the police would actually be better. At least you don't turn into an unperson as soon as the police get their hands on you."

Irv started to reply, and then the door opened. Norma and Charlie came in. Charlie's face was bright, her eyes sparkling. "Daddy!" she said. "Daddy, I fed the-"

She broke off. Some of the color left her cheeks, and she looked narrowly from Irv Manders to her father and back to Irv again. Pleasure faded from her face and was replaced with a look of harried misery. The way she looked last night, Andy thought. The way she looked yesterday when I grabbed her out of school. It goes on and on, and where's the happy ending for her?

"You told," she said. "Oh Daddy, why did you tell?" Norma stepped forward and put a protective arm around Charlie's shoulders. "Irv, what's going on here?" "I don't know," Irv said. "What do you mean he told, Bobbi?" "That's not my name," she said. Tears had appeared in her eyes. "You know that's not my name." "Charlie," Andy said. "Mr. Manders knew something was wrong. I told him, but he didn't believe me. When you think about it, you'll understand why."

"I don't understand anyth-"Charlie began, her voice rising stridently. Then she was quiet. Her head cocked sideways in a peculiar listening gesture, although as far as any of the others could tell there was nothing to listen to. As they watched, Charlie's face simply drained of color; it was like watching some rich liquid poured out of a pitcher.

"What's the matter, honey?" Norma asked, and cast a worried glance at Irv.

"They're coming, Daddy," Charlie whispered.

Her eyes were wide circles of fear. "They're coming for us."

11

They had rendezvoused at the corner of Highway 40 and the unnumbered blacktop road Irv had turned down-on the Hastings Glen town maps it was marked as the Old Baillings Road. Al Steinowitz had finally caught up with the rest of his men and had taken over quickly and decisively. There were sixteen of them in five cars. Heading up the road toward Irv Mander's place, they looked like a fast-moving funeral procession.

Norville Bates had handed over the reins-and the responsibility-of the operation to A1 with genuine relief and with a question about the local and state police who had been rung in on the operation.

"We're keeping this one dark for now," A1 said. "If we get them, we'll tell them they can fold their roadblocks. If we don't, we'll tell them to start moving in toward the centre of the circle. But between you and me, if we can't handle them with sixteen men, we can't handle them, Norv."