"Come on, try! I'll help you!"

She put an arm around him, but he had weakened her by draining off her

energy,

and it was all she could do just to raise him up several inches before she

had

to let him back down. She simply didn't have the strength.

"I can't," she said, breathing hard from the exertion. "I can't do it. You've

got to make it on your own. You've got to. Come on, get up, you can do it.

Come

on . . . ."

He tried and fell back once again, shutting his eyes and shaking his head.

"No, don't give up!" she said. "Come on! Come on, get up! Get up!"

"Need some help, Terri?" came a voice from behind her.

She turned and saw five hooded figures standing on the landing at the top of

the

steps, just inside the cell door. Four of them were robed in black, the fifth

was dressed in a dark red robe. He pulled back his hood and smiled at her.

"Joey!"

"The name's Nigel, you cheap slut," he said. "Lord Nigel Carfax. Joey Lymon's

dead. And so are you."

"Nigel, listen—"

"Listen, nothing!" He pulled a gun out from under his robe and leveled it at

her. "And don't you go trying to change on me, either! This isn't loaded with

silver bullets, but I understand that plain, ordinary lead ones will do just

as

well. Now get away from him! Move!"

He gestured with the gun, and she got up unsteadily and moved away from

Modred.

"Joey... Nigel... you don't understand. You've got the wrong idea. I was

only—"

"Shut your cakehole, bitch!" he shouted. In his fury he started slipping back

into his Cockney accent. "You take me for a bloody fool? You're just like

them

other slags I done carved up. Oh, I've been waitin' for a crack at you! He

promised me! He promised me that I could 'ave you. Oh, I've wanted you so

bad!

I've got a nice, long sharp one especially for you!" He stood there, glaring

at

her wildly, the gun shaking in his hand. Then he managed to compose himself

again and gestured to the robed figures behind him. "Bring them!"

The hooded figures started down the steps to the floor of the cell. Terri

glanced at Modred with desperation. He was lying motionless on his back, his

eyes closed. He was barely breathing. Her heart sank. She'd been too late,

after

all. But she couldn't give up now. She knew only too well what would happen