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her skull Whoosh。
With a soft cry of terror； she woke。 No disorientation。 She knew immediately where she was： the motel； Laguna Hills。
Whoosh。
The sound of the dream was still with her。 A great blade slicing through the air。 But it was not a dream sound。 It was real。 And the room was cold as the pitch…black place in the nightmare。 As if weighted down by a heart swollen with terror； she tried to move； could not。 She smelled limestone。 From below her； as if there were vast rooms under them came a soft rumbling sound of she somehow knew…large stones were grinding against each other。
Whoosh。
Something unspeakable was still squirming along the back of her neck； writhing sinuously within her skull； a hideous parasite that had chosen her for a host； worming its way into her； going to lay its eggs in her brain。 But she could not move。
Whoosh。
She could see nothing but bars of pale； pale light against part of the black ceiling； where the moonsoft glow of landscape lighting projected the image of the windowblind slats。 She desperately wanted more light。
Whoosh。
She was making pathetic whimpers of terror； and she so thoroughly despised herself for her weakness that she was finally able to shatter her paralysis。 Gasping； she sat up。 Clawed at the back of her neck； trying to tear off the oily； frigid； wormlike probe。 Nothing there。
Nothing。 Swung her legs over the edge of the bed。 Fumbled for the lamp。
Almost knocked it over。 Found the switch。 Light。
Whoosh。
She sprang off the bed。 Felt the back of her head again。 Her neck。
Between her shoulderblades。 Nothing。 Nothing there。 Yet she felt it。
Whoosh。
She was over the edge of hysteria and unable to return； making queer little animal sounds of fear and desperation。 Out of the corner of her eye； she saw movement。 Swung around。 The wall behind the bed。
Sweating。
Glistening。 The entire wall bulged toward her； as if it were a membrane against which a great and terrible mass was pressing insistently。 It throbbed repulsively； like an enormous internal organ in the exposed and steaming guts of a prehistoric behemoth。
Whoosh。
She backed away from the wet； malignantly animated wall。 Turned。
Ran。 Had to get out。 Fast。 The Enemy。 It was ing。 Had followed her。
Out of the dream。 The door。 Locked。 Deadbolt。 Disengaged it。 Hands shaking。 The Enemy。 ing。 Brass security chain。 Rattled it free。
Door。
Jerked it open。 Something was on the threshold； filling the doorway； bigger than she was； something beyond human experience； simultaneously insectile and arachnoid and reptilian； squirming and jittering； a tangled mass of spider legs and antennae and serpentine coils and roachlike mandibles and multifaceted eyes and rattlesnake fangs and claws； a thousand nightmares rolled into one； but she was awake。 It burst through the door； seized her； pain exploding from her sides where its talons tore at her； and she screamed …a night breeze。
That was the only thing ing through the open door。 A soft； summery night breeze。
Holly stood in the doorway； shuddering and gasping for breath； looking out in astonishment at the concrete promenade of the motel。 Lacy queen palms； Australian tree ferns； and other greenery swayed sensuously under the caress of the tropical zephyr。 The surface of the swimming pool rippled gently； creating countless ever…changing facets； refracting the pool…bottom lights； so it seemed as if there was not a body of water in the middle of the courtyard but a hole filled with a pirate's treasure of polished sapphires。
The creature that had attacked her was gone as if it had never existed。
It had not scuttled away or scurried up some web； it had simply evaporated in an instant。
She no longer felt the icy； squirming tendril on the back of her neck or inside her skull。
A couple of other guests had e out of rooms farther along the promenade； evidently to investigate her scream。
Holly stepped back from the threshold。 She did not want to attract their attention now。
She glanced over her shoulder。 The wall behind the bed was only a wall again。
The clock built into the nightstand showed 5：08 A。M。
She eased the door shut； and suddenly she had to lean against it； because all the strength went out of her legs。
Instead of being relieved that the strange ordeal had ended； she was shattered。 She hugged herself and shivered so hard； her teeth chattered。 She began to cry softly； not from fear of the experience； concern for her： current safety； or concern about her sanity； but from a profound sense of having been totally violated。 Briefly but for too long； she had been helplessly； victimized； enslaved by terror； controlled by an entity beyond her understanding。 She'd been psychologically raped。 Something needful had overpowered her； forced its way into her； denying her free will； though gone now； it had left traces of itself within her； a residue that stained her mind； her soul。
Just a dream； she told herself encouragingly。
But it had not been a dream when she sat up in bed and snapped on the lamp。 The nightmare had followed her into the waking world。
Just a dream； don't make so much of it； get control of yourself； she thought； struggling to regain her equanimity。 You dreamed you were in that lightless place； then you dreamed that you sat up in bed and turned on the light； then in your dream you saw the wall bulging and ran for the door。 But you were only sleepwalking； you were still asleep when you pulled the door open； still asleep when you saw the boogeyman an screamed； which was when you finally woke up for real； screamed yourself awake。
She wanted to believe that explanation； but it was too pat to be credible。
No nightmare she'd ever known had been that elaborate in its texture and detail。 Besides； she never sleepwalked。
Something real had been reaching for her。 Maybe not the insect…reptile spider thing in the doorway。 Maybe that was only an image in which another entity clad itself to frighten her。 But something had been pushing through to this world from。 。 。
From where？ It didn't matter where。 From out there。 From beyond。 And it almost got her。
No。 That was ridiculous。 Tabloid stuff Even the National Enquirer didn't publish trash that trashy any more。 I WAS MIND…RAPED BY A BEAST FROM BEYOND。 Crap like that was three steps below SINGER ADMITS BEING SPACE ALIEN； two steps belOw JESUS SPEAKS TO NUN FROM INSIDE A MICROWAVE； and even a full step below ELVIS HAD BRAIN TRANSPLANTED； LIVES NOW AS ROSEANNE BARR。
The more foolish she felt for entertaining such thoughts； the calmer she became。 Dealing with the experience was easier if she could believe that it was all a product of her overactive imagination； which had been unreasonably stimulated by the admittedly fantastic Ironheart case。
Finally she was able to stand on her own； without leaning on the door。
She relocked the deadbolt； reengaged the security chain。
As she stepped away from the door； she became aware of a hot； stinging pain in her left side。 It wasn't serious； but it made her wince； and she realized that a similar but lesser pain sizzled in her right side as well。
She took hold of her T…shirt to lift it and look at herself and discovered that the fabric was slashed。 Three places on the left side。
Two on the right。
It was spotted with blood。
With renewed dread； Holly went into the bathroom and switched on the harsh fluorescent light。 She stood in front of the mirror； hesitated； then pulled the torn T…shirt over her head。
A thin flow of blood seeped down her left flank from three shallow gashes。 The first laceration was just under her breast； and the others were spaced at two…inch intervals。 Two scratches blazed on her right side； though they were not as deep as those on the left and were not bleeding freely。
The claws。
Jim threw up in the toilet； flushed； then rinsed his mouth twice with mint…flavored Listerine。
The face in the mirror was the most troubled he had ever seen。 He had to look away from the reflection of his own eyes。
He leaned against the sink。 For at least the thousandth time in the year； he wondered what in God's name was happening to him