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head.
    The Moloch did not come back to where she crouched in fear. Instead he moved over to the workbench. He stood there, and then, as if he were familiar with the table, he picked up something, opened a drawer, and took something from it. Herculeah longed to stand up so she could see, but she remembered the burning look of the Moloch’s eyes in her living room, the fear she had felt at his terrible smile. She stayed where she was.
    Her heart was beating so loud, it pounded in her ears.
    Apparently, the Moloch had found what he needed. Herculeah heard him move toward the door. She heard him take a step outside.
    Herculeah lifted her head. Silhouetted against the light from the parking lot, she saw him raise his arm. For one terrible moment, Herculeah thought he had seen her and was lifting his arm in a terrible and final gesture of farewell.
    But the moment lengthened. He seemed to be reaching for something. She heard a faint crumbling sound. What was he doing? Why didn’t he leave?
    She didn’t move. The Moloch lowered his arm, and Herculeah heard the faint click as he extinguished the cigarette lighter. She heard the creaking sound as the Moloch began to close the door.
    Herculeah had a moment of such relief that she felt weak. The Moloch hadn’t seen her. The Moloch was leaving. And just as soon as he was gone, she could leave too. She could get Meat and—
    Then Herculeah froze.
    For she heard something that turned her blood cold. She heard the sound of hammering.
    The Moloch was nailing the door shut.
    And she was trapped inside.

10
    THE MAN WHO WAS NOT A DREAM
    Meat awoke, and for a moment he didn’t know where he was. His body felt stiff and uncomfortable, the way it did when he fell asleep on the floor watching TV. He hated that, especially when the channel had gone off the air and he was faced with a screen of snow.
    But this was worse. There was no screen, and the world itself seemed to have lost its color. Everything was sort of white.
    Meat tried not to panic. Perhaps something had gone wrong with his eyes. He rubbed them, but there was no change.
    â€œWhat is this?” he murmured.
    All the good colors in the world—the ones he found so restful—the blues and greens—had faded, and he was left in a world of grayish-white.
    It was like the time the color on the TV set had gone bad, and for weeks—until his mother got the money for repair—he had watched a world of gray. All his favorites, even Norm on Cheers, had been pale and insignificant.
    Well, he knew one thing. Wherever he was, he had to get out of there. He had to get home.
    He rolled over, bracing himself on one knee, and staggered to his feet. He stumbled clumsily.
    As he struggled for balance, he knocked over something, something big. It felt like a—maybe a garbage can.
    The sound was an explosion in the quiet night. The metal crashed against the pavement. Then the lid fell off and clattered around and around.
    Meat put his hands to his ears. What was this terrible noise? Where was he?
    At that moment he came fully awake. He remembered it all. He was here on sentry duty. He closed his eyes in dismay as the full horror of the situation washed over him.
    Herculeah had gone into the basement of Dead Oaks. And his part in the disaster was to stand watch and turn over the garbage can if anyone came. She had trusted him. And he, like a fool, had fallen asleep and knocked over the garbage can by accident.
    Herculeah would be furious with him. He began to create a quick story.
    â€œI thought I saw someone. I swear I thought I saw someone. Maybe it was a shadow. Oh, all right, it was a shadow but it was right at the gate. I thought it was a big man. Or maybe I dreamed it. I have to admit I did doze off for a second—”
    He opened his eyes. He began to feel a little better.
    â€œThat’s it. I thought I saw someone at the gate, and I didn’t want to take any chances and so I knocked the