Insomnia | Page 6

the throbbing in
the small of his back forgotten. It was murder he had seen in Ed
Deepneau's wide, unblinking eyes. He had absolutely no previous
experience upon which to base such an assessment, but he didn't think
you could mistake such a naked glare; it was the look fighting cocks
must wear when they launch themselves at each other, spurs up and
slashing. "Ed! Hey, Ed, hold up! it's Ralph!"

Not so much as a glance around, although Ralph was now so close that Ed
must have heard, wind or no wind. Certainly the heavyset man glanced
around, and Ralph could see both fear and uncertainty in his look. Then
Heavyset turned back to Ed and raised his hands placatingly.

"Look," he said. "We can talk-"

That was as far as he got. Ed took another quick step forward, reached
up with one slim hand-it was very white in the rapidly darkening day-and
slapped Heavyset across his far from inconsiderable jowls. The sound
was like the report of a kid's air rifle.

"How many have you killed?" Ed asked.

Heavyset pressed back against the side of his pickup, his mouth open,
his eyes wide. Ed's queer, stif strut never la tered. He walked into

the other man and stood belly to belly with him, seemingly oblivious of
the fact that the pickup's driver was four inches taller and outweighed
him by a hundred pounds or more. Ed reached up and slapped him again.
"Come on! Fess up, brave boy-how many have you killed?" His voice rose
to a shriek that was lost in the coming storm's first really
authoritative clap of thunder.

Heavyset pushed him away-a gesture not of aggression but of simple
fright-and Ed went reeling backward against the crumpled nose of his
Datsun. He bounced back at once, fists clenched, gathering himself to
leap at Heavyset, who was cringing against the side of his truck with
his gimme-cap now askew and his shirt untucked in the back and at the
sides. A memory flashed across Ralph's mind-a Three Stooges short he'd
seen years ago, Larry, Curly, and Moe playing painters without a
clue-and he felt a sudden surge of sympathy for Heavyset, who looked
absurd as well as scared to death.

Ed Deepneau did not look absurd. With his yanked-back lips and wide,
unblinking eyes, Ed looked more like a fighting cock than ever.

"I know what you've been doing," he whispered to Heavyset "What kind of
comedy did you think this was? Did you think you and your butcher
friends could get away with it fores-" At that moment Ralph arrived,
puffing and gasping like an old carthorse, and put an arm around Ed's
shoulders. The heat beneath the thin tee-shirt was unnerving; it was
like putting an arm around an oven, and when Ed turned to look at him,
Ralph had the momentary (but unforgettable) impression that that was
exactly what he was looking into. He had never seen such utter,
unreasoning fury in a pair of human eyes; had never even suspected such
fury might exist.

Ralph's immediate impulse was to recoil, but he suppressed it and stood
firm. He had an idea that if he pulled back, Ed would fall on him like
a rogue dog, biting and clawing. It was absurd, of course; Ed was a
research chemist, Ed was a member of the Book-of-theMonth Club (the kind
who took the twenty-pound histories of the Crimean War they always
seemed to offer as alternates to the main selection), Ed was Helen's
husband and Natalie's Dad. Hell, Ed was a friend.

... except this wasn't that Ed, and Ralph knew it.

Instead of pulling back, Ralph leaned forward, grasped Ed's shoulders
(so hot under the tee-shirt, so incredibly, throbbingly hot), and moved
his face until it blocked Heavyset from Ed's creepy fixed gaze.

"Ed, quit it!" Ralph said. He used the loud but steadily firm voice he
assumed one used with people who were having hysterics.

"You're all right! just quit it!"

For a moment Ed's fixed gaze didn't waver, and then his eyes moved over
Ralph's face. It wasn't much, but Ralph felt a small surge of relief
just the same.

"What's the matter with him?" Heavyset asked from behind Ralph.

"He crazy, do you think?"

"He's fine, I'm sure," Ralph said, although he was sure of no such
thing. He spoke out of the corner of his mouth, and didn't take his
eyes from Ed. He didn't dare take his eyes from Ed-that contact felt
like the only