the pit and spread its wings, preparing to dive.
She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Her voice had dried up within her for lack of water, and she could not scream.
Wings outstretched, the bird dove into the pit, aiming straight at her.
Reed awoke shaking and drenched with sweat. She was freezing cold, and yanked the comforter up under her chin to get warm.
What a horrible dream! And familiar. So familiar. Had she had it before?
No, she remembered now. She hadn’t dreamed it, she had read it. The dream was a combination of two passages from two separate McCoy novels. Her dream had combined the imprisonment in the pit from Pitfall with the horrible birds from Wings of Fear.
Reed shuddered. The darker side of her own mind had paired two of McCoy’s most frightening plots to create an even more terrifying image. How weird. How scary.
And yet …
Hadn’t she wondered if she had a dark side to her mind?
Now she knew.
She knew for certain.
And was pleased.
Chapter 7
R EED HAD RESOLVED NOT to do any more snooping when she was at McCoy’s. On Tuesday and Wednesday, she followed her resolution diligently. McCoy, headphones hanging around her neck, disappeared inside her office each day when Reed arrived. Reed left at four o’clock both days. The author didn’t come out to say good-bye, but she was perfectly pleasant when Reed arrived. It was as if the ugly incident when Reed had been caught snooping had never happened.
Link was not happy when Rain showed up at the fan club meeting Wednesday night. Watching them greet each other warily, Reed thought, Link looks like he could kill Rain.
Rain didn’t seem to notice. Nor did anyone else.
Debrah wanted to know if Reed had made any progress in persuading McCoy to conduct an autograph session on campus.
“No. I’ve hardly seen her. She disappears into her office with those headphones on. She might as well be on another planet.”
Debrah looked smug. “It’s not like you thought it would be, is it, Reed?”
“No, it’s not,” Reed admitted reluctantly. “But I haven’t given up on talking McCoy into an appearance on campus. There’s no hurry.”
“Well, there’s a hurry about my material,” Jude said vehemently. “When are you going to give it to her? You’re not pushy enough, Reed, that’s your problem.”
Reed frowned. “Why don’t you do it yourself then, Jude? You take your writing to McCoy, get her opinion.”
“McCoy doesn’t do that,” Rain said quietly from his seat in the front row. “She says she’s not an editor, she’s a writer.”
Jude stared at him rudely. Then he said, his voice hardening, “Well, I guess Reed will just have to talk her into making an exception in my case, won’t she? McCoy is the reason I came to this campus. She’s going to look at my work. I don’t care what I have to do to see that that happens.”
Rain shrugged.
“I’ll try, Jude,” Reed said. Anything to shut him up.
Lilith read from McCoy’s novel, Pitfall, the tale of a man who spent hours in the dark of night digging a deep hole, then imprisoned in it the young woman who was blackmailing him.
Reed shivered involuntarily, reminded of her terrible dream.
“The pit was so dark that days blended into nights, and she could no longer keep track of the time. Her terrible thirst was murderous. To avoid going mad, she scratched pictures into the earthen wall with a sharp stick she found lying in the bottom of the pit. Working painfully, diligently, she created crude drawings of what life was like above her hellhole. Bare-branched trees, tall buildings, even a fountain spouting a spray of water, stick figures of her friends, her family. They were crude, but they served their purpose … reminding her that somewhere high above her, in the clean, crisp air and the bright, warm sun, life went on as usual.
“Without her … ”
When Lilith had finished reading, Rain said, “Not one of her better ones. Too passive. Nothing much
She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Her voice had dried up within her for lack of water, and she could not scream.
Wings outstretched, the bird dove into the pit, aiming straight at her.
Reed awoke shaking and drenched with sweat. She was freezing cold, and yanked the comforter up under her chin to get warm.
What a horrible dream! And familiar. So familiar. Had she had it before?
No, she remembered now. She hadn’t dreamed it, she had read it. The dream was a combination of two passages from two separate McCoy novels. Her dream had combined the imprisonment in the pit from Pitfall with the horrible birds from Wings of Fear.
Reed shuddered. The darker side of her own mind had paired two of McCoy’s most frightening plots to create an even more terrifying image. How weird. How scary.
And yet …
Hadn’t she wondered if she had a dark side to her mind?
Now she knew.
She knew for certain.
And was pleased.
Chapter 7
R EED HAD RESOLVED NOT to do any more snooping when she was at McCoy’s. On Tuesday and Wednesday, she followed her resolution diligently. McCoy, headphones hanging around her neck, disappeared inside her office each day when Reed arrived. Reed left at four o’clock both days. The author didn’t come out to say good-bye, but she was perfectly pleasant when Reed arrived. It was as if the ugly incident when Reed had been caught snooping had never happened.
Link was not happy when Rain showed up at the fan club meeting Wednesday night. Watching them greet each other warily, Reed thought, Link looks like he could kill Rain.
Rain didn’t seem to notice. Nor did anyone else.
Debrah wanted to know if Reed had made any progress in persuading McCoy to conduct an autograph session on campus.
“No. I’ve hardly seen her. She disappears into her office with those headphones on. She might as well be on another planet.”
Debrah looked smug. “It’s not like you thought it would be, is it, Reed?”
“No, it’s not,” Reed admitted reluctantly. “But I haven’t given up on talking McCoy into an appearance on campus. There’s no hurry.”
“Well, there’s a hurry about my material,” Jude said vehemently. “When are you going to give it to her? You’re not pushy enough, Reed, that’s your problem.”
Reed frowned. “Why don’t you do it yourself then, Jude? You take your writing to McCoy, get her opinion.”
“McCoy doesn’t do that,” Rain said quietly from his seat in the front row. “She says she’s not an editor, she’s a writer.”
Jude stared at him rudely. Then he said, his voice hardening, “Well, I guess Reed will just have to talk her into making an exception in my case, won’t she? McCoy is the reason I came to this campus. She’s going to look at my work. I don’t care what I have to do to see that that happens.”
Rain shrugged.
“I’ll try, Jude,” Reed said. Anything to shut him up.
Lilith read from McCoy’s novel, Pitfall, the tale of a man who spent hours in the dark of night digging a deep hole, then imprisoned in it the young woman who was blackmailing him.
Reed shivered involuntarily, reminded of her terrible dream.
“The pit was so dark that days blended into nights, and she could no longer keep track of the time. Her terrible thirst was murderous. To avoid going mad, she scratched pictures into the earthen wall with a sharp stick she found lying in the bottom of the pit. Working painfully, diligently, she created crude drawings of what life was like above her hellhole. Bare-branched trees, tall buildings, even a fountain spouting a spray of water, stick figures of her friends, her family. They were crude, but they served their purpose … reminding her that somewhere high above her, in the clean, crisp air and the bright, warm sun, life went on as usual.
“Without her … ”
When Lilith had finished reading, Rain said, “Not one of her better ones. Too passive. Nothing much
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