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lf…open crab claw。 Then； without shifting her gaze from faraway things； she took the doll in both hands； gripping it by the legs。 Like the shadow of a bird in flight； a fierce expression crossed her face and was gone before it could be clearly read。 She turned； swung the doll as if it were a sledgehammer； and smashed its head into the top of the dinette table； shattering the unglazed…china face。
Startled； Chyna said； 〃Honey； no；〃 and gripped the girl by the shoulder。
Ariel wrenched away from Chyna and slammed the doll into the table again； harder than before； and Chyna stepped backward； not in fear but in respect of the girl's fury。 And fury it was； a righteous anger； not merely an autistic spasm； in spite of the fact that she remained expressionless。
She pounded the doll against the table repeatedly； until its smashed head broke and spun across the room and bounced off a wall； until both its arms cracked and fell away； until it was ruined beyond repair。 Then she dropped it and stood trembling； arms hanging at her sides。 She was still staring into the Elsewhere and was no more with Chyna than she had ever been。
From the bookcases； from atop the cabinets； from the shadowed corners of the room； the dolls watched intently； as if they were thrilled by her outburst and in some strange way feeding on it as Vess himself would have fed if he'd been there to see。
Chyna wanted to put her arms around the girl； but the handcuffs made it impossible to embrace her。 Instead； she touched Ariel's face and kissed her on the forehead。 〃Ariel； untouched and alive。〃
Rigid； shaking； Ariel neither pulled away from Chyna nor leaned toward her。 Gradually the girl's trembling subsided。
〃I need your help；〃 Chyna pleaded。 〃I need you。〃
This time； as if sleepwalking； Ariel allowed herself to be led from the cell。
They crossed the fallen door through the vestibule。 In the cellar； Chyna picked up the drill from the floor； plugged it into the power strip on the wall； and put it on the workbench。
She had no timepiece for reference； but she was sure that nine o'clock had e and gone。 In the night were dogs waiting and Edgler Vess somewhere at work； bemused by waking dreams of returning home to his pair of captives。
Trying unsuccessfully to get the girl's eyes to focus on her； Chyna explained what they needed to do。 She might be able to drive the motor home while handcuffed； though not without some difficulty； as she would have to let go of the steering wheel to shift gears。 Dealing with the dogs while cuffed would be a lot harder。 Perhaps impossible。 If they were to make the best use of the time remaining before Vess's return； and if they were to have the best chance of getting away； Ariel was going to have to drill out the locks on the manacles。
The girl gave no indication that she heard a word of what Chyna told her。 Indeed； before Chyna finished； Ariel's lips were moving again in a silent conversation with some phantom； she didn't 〃speak〃 ceaselessly but paused from time to time as if receiving a response from an imaginary friend。
Nevertheless； Chyna showed her how to hold the drill and press the trigger。 The girl didn't blink at the sudden shriek of the motor and the air…cutting whistle of the whirling bit。
〃Now you hold it；〃 Chyna said。
Oblivious； Ariel stood with her arms at her sides； hands half open and fingers hooked as they had been since she had dropped the ruined doll。
〃We don't have much time； honey。〃
In her clockless Elsewhere； time meant nothing to Ariel。 Chyna put the drill on the workbench。 She drew the girl in front of the tool and placed her hands on it。
Ariel didn't pull away or let her hands slide off the drill； but she didn't lift it either。
Chyna knew that the girl heard her； understood the situation； and； on some level； yearned to help。
〃Our hopes are in your hands； honey。 You can do it。〃
She retrieved the workbench stool from the outer vestibule door； which it had been propping open； and sat down。 She put her hands on the workbench； wrists turned to expose the tiny keyhole on the left manacle。
Staring at the concrete…block wall； tbrough the wall； speaking soundlessly to a psychic friend beyond all walls； Ariel seemed to be unaware of the drill。 Or to her it might have been not a drill but another object altogether； one that filled her either with hope or with fear； the thing of which she spoke to her phantom friend。
Even if the girl picked up the drill and focused her eyes on the manacle； the chance that she would be able to perform this task seemed slim。 The chance that she would avoid boring through Chyna's palm or wrist seemed slimmer still。
On the other hand； although the likelihood of salvation from any trouble or enemy in this life was always slim； Chyna had survived uncounted nights of blood rage and questing lust。 Survival was far different from salvation； of course； but it was a prerequisite。
Anyway； she was ready to do now what she had never been able to do before； not even with Laura Templeton： trust。 Trust without reservation。 And if this girl tried and failed； let the drill slip and damaged flesh rather than steel； Chyna wasn't going to blame her for the failure。 Sometimes； just trying was a triumph。
And she knew Ariel wanted to try。 She knew。 For a minute or so； Chyna encouraged the girl to begin； and when that didn't work； she tried waiting in silence。 But silence led her thoughts to the bronze stags and the clock over which they leaped on the living room mantel； and in her mind's eye the clock acquired the face of the young man who hung in the motor home closet； eyelids tightly stitched and lips sewn shut in a silence even deeper than that in the cellar。
With no calculation； surprised to hear what she was doing but relying on instinct； Chyna began to tell Ariel what had happened on the long…ago night of her eighth birthday： the cottage in Key West； the storm； Jim Woltz； the frantic palmetto beetle under the low…slung iron bed 。。。
Drunk on Dos Equis and high on a pair of small white pills that he had popped with the first bottle of beer； Woltz had teased Chyna because she had failed to blow out all the candles on her birthday cake in a single breath； leaving one aflame。
〃This is bad luck； kid。 Oh； man； this brings a world of grief down on us。 If you don't get all the candles out； you invite gremlins and trolls into your life； all sorts of bad characters after your stash and cash。〃
Just then the night sky had convulsed with white light； and the shadows of palm fronds had leaped across the kitchen windows。 The cottage rattled in the shock waves of thunderclaps as hard as bomb blasts； and the storm broke。
〃See？〃 Woltz said。 〃If we don't rectify this situation right away； then some bad guys will get the best of us and chop us up into bloody chunks and put us in bait buckets and go out on some deep…sea boat； trolling for sharks； using us as chum。 Do you want to be shark chum； kid？〃
This speech frightened Chyna； but her mother found it amusing。 Her mother had been drinking vodka with lemonade since late afternoon。
Woltz relit the candles and insisted that Chyna try once more。
When she failed again to extinguish more than seven with one breath； Woltz seized her hand； licked her thumb and index finger； his tongue lingering in a way that disgusted her； and then forced her to snuff the remaining flame by pinching the candlewick。 Although there was a brief hotness against her skin； she had not been burned； however； her fingers had been marked with black smudges from the smoking wick； and the sight of them had terrified her。
When Chyna began to cry； Woltz held her by one arm； keeping her in her chair； while Anne relit the eight； insisting that she try again。 The third time； Chyna was able to extinguish only six candles with her first shuddery breath。 When Woltz attempted to make her pinch both flames with her fingers； she pulled loose and ran out of the kitchen； intending to flee to the beach； but lightning had shattered like bright mirrors around the cottage； the night flashing with sharp silver fragments； and thunder as fierce as the cannonades of warships boomed out of the Gulf of Mexico； so she had fled instead to the small room in which she slept； crawled under the sagging bed； into those secret shadows where the palmetto beetle waited。
〃Woltz； the stinking sonofabitch； came through the house after me；〃 Chyna told Ariel； 〃shouting my name； knocking over furniture； slamming doors； saying he was going to chop me up for chum and then scatter me in the sea。 Later I realized it was an act。 He'd been trying to scare the crap out of me。 He always liked to scare me； make me cry； 'cause I didn't cry easily 。。。 never easily。 。 。〃
Chyna stopped； unable to go on。 Ariel stared not toward the wall； as before； but down at the power drill on which her hands were placed。 Whether she saw the drill was another matter； her eyes were still far away。
The girl might not be listening； yet Chyna felt pelled to tell the rest of what had happened that night in Key West。
This was the first time she had ever revealed to anyone； other than Laura； any of the things that had happened to her when she was a child。 Shame had always silenced her； which was inex