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Prologue
One Month Before Halloween This Year
I have wrought great use out of evil tools Edward George Earle Lytton Bulwe-?Lytton, first Baron Lytton, Richelieu
Every evil in the bud is easily crushed; as it grows older, it becoer Cicero, Philippicoe
I got to keepdown like hail, blues falling down like hail M down like hail And the day keeps on remindin’ me, there’s a hellhound on my trail Hellhound on my trail, hellhound on my trail Robert Johnson, “Hellhound on My Trail”
1
The last thing Billy said was, “Oh, co out there ”
And then two sets of bone-?white hands arched over the slat rails on the wagon and seized hi into the darkness He tried to fight the the rail, feet flailing and hands scrabbling for soures closed in and he was dragged away
Claire screas Everyone else screa the tractor screamed
Billy screamed louder than all of them
Claire launched herself forward froo holding Billy’s hand; she leaned out into the darkness beyond the rails, her fingers clawing the air as if that could soures had forced Billy down to the ground and were hunched over hi down to tear at hiers, their black er, their bottomless dead eyes as vacant as the eyes of dolls
“Billy!” she screa at their sleeves, slapping at the hands that tried to pull her back She wheeled on theh school, all cringing back against the wooden rails of the flatbed, or trying to hide behind bales of hay—she begged them to help A few shook their heads Most just screaht be a jock—irlfriend and his buddies dragged him back
Claire spat at the fros She looked up at thethe tractor, but he hite-?faced with shock and was frozen in a posture of near flight, half out of his seat
Then one of the white-?faced things bent loard hile Claire could not see what he was doing, but Billy gave a single high, piercing shriek of absolute agony and then his legs and arround and lay still
The moment froze