The Pale Man Rises

CHAPTER ELEVEN

65

Clay Reese had by this time climbed out onto the framework of the truck. He was excited and frightened all at once. Inside the small office where he'd just hung up with the franchise owner the guard Dwayne Crumpler heard the distant breaking glass. "What the fuck was that?" he exclaimed. He shot up from the chair and rushed from the room.

At first all he saw was an ugly pale young man hanging on the frame of the truck acting like some wild monkey. "Hey you?" Crumpler shouted as he at the same time withdrew his .44 caliber revolver from its holster. He then took careful aim and fired at the crazy actin' fool. The bullet pinged off of one of the carrier's metal bones and ricocheted away smashing through the windshield of a used '72 Camaro.

Very frightened Clay jumped down from the truck. The guard fired again and again he only hit cars in the lot. And he continued to fire never once attempting to close the gap with them. Nonetheless Clay was terrified he would be shot. "We have to go–we have to go!" he beseeched the pale man.

The pale man raised his head from Gage's body then. Blood was on his mouth and he was grinning with the taste of it. The white black clad figure then rose to its full awesome height and for a moment he stared directly ahead at the image of Luther Newton whose cigar was a bright orange spot on his amused dark face.

The guard was reloading the chamber of his revolver with more ammo. Within seconds he was prepared to fire again. Blam-blam-blam the gun exploded three more times thudding all about the pavement and into still more vehicles.

Fortunately for Clay, Dwayne Crumpler was a lousy shot. But now he began to move closer. He was emboldened now taking careful aim at his target.

66

"WE HAVE TO LEAVE!" Clay screeched. The pale man knew he did not need to flee from the guard. He could easily dispatch him if he so desired yet he did not wish to take the chance that his slave whom he sorely needed would be harmed, killed, or somehow separated from him. This might happen however if he decided to do away with the man who was firing at them.

He would surely take flight once the pale man confronted him and this could take up to much time. He at last concluded he should stay close to his slave and together try and elude this troublesome guard.

A wide alley divided the two metal buildings at the rear of the franchise and led to another lot covered with automobiles. It stretched perhaps fifty yards behind the main building and was cluttered with vehicles of all makes and models. It led to a chain link fence that enclosed it all.

Clay sprinted up to the fence like a convict intent on escaping confinement. When he met the barrier of the fence his distress mounted. He turned with a look of utter desperation on his face. "WHAT WILL WE DO–WHAT WILL WE DO?" he wailed. The pale man came upon him quickly, but he did not appear afraid as his fretting servant was.

"He's going to kill me, he's going to kill me!" Clay blubbered to the awful being. "SILENCE!" The creature demanded with a cold evil voice. And once again Clay's fear of him overwhelmed all else.

The pale man brushed him aside and stepped up to the barrier of the fence. He reached out and grasped the wire with his large angular hands and began to pull on it. The fastenings on that portion of the fence made a wrenching noise as they gave way to the strain the beast was exerting on it. And so the wire was stripped from the post to their right and thus was peeled open like a locked door being torn from its hinges. "GO!" The pale man ordered.

Clay moved around him and fled through the open space down a slope and into a field of late season corn whose rustling was heard on the gentle breeze.