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looked at the sand and thought that, perhaps, she could do
something with it. She just needed some sort of moisture and
Francine's nose had stopped bleeding hours ago.
    Jeanne asked her, "You don't have any water,
by any chance?"
    "I don't," said Francine. "Though I recall
that a penny dreadful said that there was water in desert
plants."
    "All right. That might work," said Jeanne and
she found a cactus and broke it open. It juices fell on the ground
and Jeanne mixed the juice with the sand. "We used to do this in my
theater troop. A bit of water and dirt would make a paste that
could pass for blood, at least to the uneducated."
    "I never knew you were in the theater," said
Francine.
    "I've tried to put that life behind me,"
replied Jeanne. "It taught me to be a lot of things I didn't want
to be and I refuse to be that kind of person anymore."
    "You don't seem to be too bad," said Francine
diplomatically.
    "Do you remember me when we left? I was an
absolute pill," said Jeanne bitterly. "I was a terrible person,
cowardly and rude. That's what being the theater taught me, or at
least, that's what I took away from it. I should have been reminded
that I can be whatever I want to be and I have the wits to do
it.
    “I'm going to take this and smear it all over
my face and clothes. It's not a lot but I don't need a lot. What
you're going to do is run up to that door and pound on it madly.
When Jack answers, tell him that a ghoul is chasing you. Once he's
out and trying to find out what's going on, I'll wander over while
moaning. I need you to sneak in there and find a weapon."
    "That's complicated," said Francine. "Isn't
there an easier way to do it?"
    Jeanne sighed. "I suppose we could just lure
him outside and lock him out of his little hut, but I made all this
mud."
    "You can still use the mud," urged Francine.
"In fact, why don't you just toss it in his face? Blind 'em while I
sneak around!"
    "All right, that could work," said Jeanne.
"Yes. I'll act as if I've been wounded and this is my life-blood
seeping from a deadly wound."
    "If that's what you want to do," said
Francine. "I'm just going to go knock on the door, then."
    "After you knock, run," said Jeanne. "I doubt
he'll be very happy about this."
     
     
    Joseph and the others were in their cell and
trying to formulate a plan when they heard a faint knocking. Joseph
went over to the door and looked out of the little window. Jack
looked over at the door, dumbfounded and he walked over to a wall
and grabbed a club. Joseph was glad he hadn't gone for the gun that
was also over there, but as he thought this Jack grabbed the gun as
well. Whoever was out there was about to be hurt and Joseph refused
to allow that to happen.
    "We need to get out of here before someone
gets hurt," said Joseph. "How are we going to do that?"
    "This sounds a lot like a story from that
book you showed me," said Henry.
    Joseph could only recall one book he had
shown Henry. "You mean the Bible?'
    "Yep," said Henry. "This seems like the time
that God would help a person."
    "I have faith," said Joseph and he took a
deep breath and kicked the door. There was a little bit of give to
it and so he kicked it again, this time with a sickening crack.
While the door was showing some obvious damage, Joseph was writhing
on the floor with his foot facing the wrong way.
    Henry took one look at it, summoned his own
courage and kicked the door until he collapsed as well, from
exhaustion and a sore foot. It was up to Horace and he found a
heavy piece of furniture. He struck the furniture against the door
and they both broke, allowing Horace to get through. He looked back
at the two injured men.
    "I'll come back for you two," said Horace,
and Joseph continued to have faith.
     
     
    Jeanne watched as Francine knocked on the
door and ran, luckily running in the direction necessary to be
shielded by the door as Jack opened it, holding a gun and a club.
It was time for Jeanne to lure Jack out and so she began moaning