He took out the hammer and began driving half a dozen of the biggest nails he had into the seams between the tiles along the outer edge of the etagere. Damn shame to mess up these beautiful marble tiles like this but they could be replaced. The people besieged in Toad Hall could not.

Alan pulled himself back up into his chair and regarded his handiwork. It looked pretty stable. With only wing power behind them, he doubted the bugs were strong enough to push back the heavy brass piece even if he left it unsecured. But now, with nails acting as stoppers, he was certain they'd be frustrated until morning. He heard sharp little teeth scraping against the far side of the metal.

"Let's see you chew a hole in that."

Tomorrow, though, he'd have to find some way to reinforce the outer surface of the door.

Maybe Ba would be back by then. Alan hoped so. As much as he insisted on his own independence and refused to lean on anyone else, Toad Hall was awfully big. Too big to be adequately patrolled by one man in a wheelchair. With the welfare of Sylvia and Jeffy at stake, he couldn't let his pride endanger them. As long as Sylvia insisted on staying here, he'd stay with her and do his best to protect her, but he wished Ba were here to help. Even more, he wished they'd all moved in with Glaeken last Saturday when the old guy had offered.

"Alan?"

He wheeled around and found Sylvia standing in the entrance to the foyer. She wore the loose sweater and baggy old jeans that were serving as her pajamas during the siege. Her face was pale and lined from the pillow case. She did not look like the Sylvia Nash who'd once appeared in The New York Times Magazine with her unique bonsai art—her beautiful bonsai, now smashed and broken in the shattered remains of the greenhouse—but Alan thought she was as beautiful now as ever.

"Hi," he said. "You're supposed to be catching some sleep."

"I heard all that banging. I thought something was wrong."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you, but the chewers have started to gnaw rat holes in the door."

She came over and dropped onto his lap; she slipped her arms around him and hugged.

"I wasn't sleeping. I couldn't. I'm worried about Ba. I'm afraid he won't come back. And if he doesn't, if he's…dead…it will be my fault for letting him go. I'll never forgive myself."

Alan put his arms around her waist. "If anyone can take care of himself, it's Ba."

"But I'm worried about you too, Alan. When I'm down in the basement with Jeffy and you're up here alone I begin to think I've been very foolish, very selfish in insisting that we stay here. And for some strange reason I feel it more tonight than ever. So I've made up my mind. Tomorrow we move in with Glaeken. Hopefully Ba will be back by then and we can all leave here as a family. I want our little family back together again, Alan. Toad Hall is our home, but we've got to survive. That comes first."

"I know what this place means to you," he said, squeezing her against him. "I know how tough it is for you to leave it."

"It's like giving up." He could feel her jaw muscles bunch as she spoke. "I hate to give up."

"But it's not giving up or giving in. It's a strategic withdrawal so you can live to fight another day when you've marshaled your forces."

"I love you," she said, leaning her head against his. "Sometimes I wonder why you put up with me and my stubbornness."

"Maybe its because of your stubbornness. Maybe I like a woman who don't take no shit from nobody, not even this Rasalom guy and his bugs."

Sylvia jerked her head up, fluttered her eyelids, and put on her Southern Belle voice.

"Whah, Doctah Bulmuh! Ah don't believe Ah've evah heard you speak that way! Especially in front of a layday!"

"I only speak that way when I'm under a lady."

They kissed—simultaneously, spontaneously. Whether it was body language or the kind of telepathy that develops between soulmates, Alan didn't know. And didn't care. All he knew at that instant was that it was time for a kiss. And Sylvia knew it too. So they kissed. Simple.

"When was the last time we made love?" he heard her say as he nuzzled her neck and inhaled the scent of her.

"Too long."

They hadn't had a chance to sleep together let alone make love since last week when the attacks had begun.

"Another good reason to move in with Glaeken," she said. "An excellent reason."

They sat there for a while, Sylvia cradled on his lap, and held each other, listening to the bugs gnaw at the edges of the brass etagere. Alan realized again how much he loved this woman, how attuned he was to her, like no other person he had ever known. The thought of her coming to harm was unbearable. Tomorrow they'd move to Glaeken's and she'd be safe, as safe as anyone could be in this madness.

But first he had to see them through the night.

The Movie Channel:

Joe Bob Briggs' Drive-in Movie—A Special All-Day Edition.

Flesh Feast (1970) Cine World Corp.

Twilight People (1972) New Worlds

Beyond Evil (1980) IFI- Scope HI

The Night God Screamed ((1973) Cinemation

From Hell It Came (1957) Allied Artists

The Unearthly (1957) Republic

Night Of The Dark Full Moon (1972) Cannon

Bug (1977) Paramount

Creatures of Evil (1970) Hemisphere

The Unknown Terror (1957) Twentieth Century Fox

The Day The World Ended (1956) AIP

Scream And Scream Again (1970) Amicus/AIP

It's A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World (1963) United Artists

The scrape of metal on metal.

It snapped Alan to full alert. Without hesitating he wheeled out of the game room and rolled toward the foyer. That was where it had come from. It sounded as if the etagere had moved. Alan didn't see how that was possible, but he had his toothed billy out and ready in his lap, just in case.

As he turned into the living room he heard the buzz of wings.

They're in!

His heart pumped dread but he kept on rolling. Maybe there were only a few. Maybe—

Something flashed toward him. He snapped his head back and it blew by his cheek, jaws grinding furiously.

Chew wasp.

Alan's heart was pumping furiously now. He fumbled in his lap for the billy. By the time the bug had banked around for a return run, he had it ready. Visibility wasn't great in the candlelight so he didn't swing at it. He simply held the billy between his face and the bug and braced himself.

The chew wasp ran into the club mouth first. It glanced off to the right and shredded its wing on the club's teeth in passing. Alan left it flopping around on the rug and wheeled into the foyer. It wasn't going anywhere with one wing and he could administer the coup de grace later. Right now Alan wanted to kick that etagere back into place before any more of its friends got in.

He smelled them first—that rotten carrion odor. And as he rounded the corner from the living room into the foyer he saw two spearheads and another chew wasp wriggle free from behind the etagere and take flight. Either they didn't see him or they ignored him as they winged up the open curved stairway toward the darkness of the second floor.

Looking for Jeffy.

At top speed he rolled his chair over to the etagere. Not only had it been pushed away from the door, it had been moved with enough force to bend the nails onto their backs and now rested atop them.