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  Orin slammed the torch down across Josh's left shoulder, and Josh fell to one knee, grunting with pain. He swung his left hand up, grabbed the stalk of the torch and wrested it from Orin's grasp. Then he plummeted it upwards, striking Orin brutally in the stomach.

  Josh's eyes widened in horror. For a moment he had the distinct impression he had injured himself.

  The hair covering Orin's abdomen began to crackle and burn. Orin roared, lurching backwards. His heel caught on a loose stone, and he fell onto his left shoulder. He lay still, regaining his strength. The spectators sucked in their breaths and waited.

  Josh flung the torch over the edge of the boulder. There was an eerie silence. Orin twisted and turned upon the rock. And when he righted himself he was no longer completely human.

  Orin threw back his head and howled.

  It appeared as if a shadow passed over Orin's body. But it was not a shadow. Hair sprouted from Orin's quivering flesh. He closed his eyes, and an ecstatic expression transformed his face. His upper lip began to quiver, then giant incisors shot downwards to be joined by a row of equally sharp bottom teeth. His nostrils opened and widened. The hair on his head began to vibrate and move downwards, joining that of his eyebrows. The eyes seemed to recede into the head, and when he opened them they were lit by some inner fire.

  Josh reeled, stupified. The surge of optimism which he had felt just a few minutes earlier evaporated. He knew that he was about to die. He looked down at Orin's hands, if indeed they could be called hands any more. They bristled with hair and were distorted into near-paws. The thumbs had receded; the remaining fingers were now tipped with curved and deadly talons.

  Orin lunged at him. The claws tore into Josh's flesh. He felt his blood begin to flow, and he knew that his death was going to be by sheer butchery. As he moved away from the half-natural who was his brother, Josh's fear gave way to something that was even stronger in the human spirit. He became angered at the injustice, the imbalance of the conflict. The sky suddenly filled with an unearthly glow, unlike anything Josh had ever seen. It was as if all the lightning from all the storms in the world had struck that night. He stretched his arms to the skies and drew strength from the electrically charged atmosphere. He felt the galvanic power enter his veins and he, too, began to metamorphose.

  His bare flesh tingled as shafts of hair forced their way through his epidermis. His fingers and toes writhed as they began to alter and change shape. He felt his toenails elongate and curve downward, scratching the rock on which he stood. His nostrils suddenly opened, and he smelled things more acutely than ever before. His ears reformed themselves, and night sounds entered them which he now understood. His testicles tightened in his scrotum. His penis sheathed in its protective foreskin, changed shape and sent vital signals careening through his groin. His eyes gained a wider periphery of vision and came into true focus for the first time. He opened his mouth to cry out in pleasure. Instead, his jaws stretched forward, his teeth lengthened and sharpened in a bray of joy that became instead a howl of triumph.

  Josh turned on Orin. Now they were truly twins. The beast looked out through his eyes, something previously leashed by his own hand, now summoned from the depths of his soul. Fright flickered briefly in Orin's eyes. Snarling, Josh sprang and seized Orin's throat, sinking in his teeth to the gums. He could smell Orin's fear as he tore open his throat. The blood began to flow. And it was good.

  Orin crumpled to the ground. Before Josh could continue, the others sprang to life. They fell upon their vanquished leader and tore him to bits.

  Josh loped toward his mate to claim her. Her head was high, her eyes bright. His legs trembled with excitement as he licked her.

  Joshua Allen Holman had fulfilled his destiny. He had taken his rightful place in the hierarchy of man and beast.

  He was, after all, the first born.

  Epilogue

  The Ospedale di Giacomo, an ugly, sprawling building of beige and umber stone, was located in the middle of Rome between the Via del Corso and the Via Ripetta. The hospital served the Italian film community as well as those employed in the other related arts, both national and international.

  At 10:37 P.M., an ambulance, sirens shrieking, pulled up to the emergency entrance. The attendants sprang from the vehicle and eased the gurney across the concrete platform. The glass double doors opened automatically. The attendants expertly maneuvered the gurney past harried nurses, quarrelling doctors, and curious patients. And as they were passing the admittance desk one of them called to the head nurse, "Eight centimeters dilated."

  The other added, "Says her doctor is Forcetti."

  The efficient head nurse, unperturbed by emergencies, scanned the assignment sheets. "Take her to delivery. In the meantime, I'll page Dr. Forcetti."

  A contraction attacked the young woman who lay on the gurney. Her face was bleached with pain and beads of perspiration clung to her body like a cold, clammy mist. She pressed her fists against her eyes and opened her mouth so wide the pink of her lips blended in with her flesh.

  "Hold on, little mama," said one attendant.

  "We'll have you there in no time," said the other.

  Cresta fought back her tears, but she was unsuccessful. She bit down on her lower lip and clutched her swollen stomach. "No one told me it was going to hurt this much," she said to no one in particular. Her eyes overflowed with tears which blurred her vision. She tried to concentrate on something - anything but the pain. She watched the ceiling, which was quickly moving above her. Odd, she thought to herself, the ceiling made of rough-hewn wood and vaulted like the apse of a church, and yet the walls were white and shiny as glass and the overhead lights were round phosphorescent tubes, brutally bright. As the lights rushed by her line of vision, scenes from the past as disjointed as film clips assailed her mind like hurrying nightmares. The suffering, the hurt, the humiliation returned.

  The terrible empty room in Orin's house. His perverse relish as he told her that it was he who had slept with her that night she had mountain fever. Sick with shame and revulsion, she fled from the house. She encountered Reuben in a horse-drawn cart and offered him fifty dollars to get her away from Chestnut Ridge ... away from Orin and Josh.

  Another contraction tore through Cresta's body. She cried out, both in pain and in protest of the past. A nun, her face shiny and pink as if it had been molded from marzipan, took her hand and held it tightly as they waited for the elevator. The nun's voice was filled with concern. "Soon, my dear miss."

  Back to New York to a self-imposed quarantine in the apartment, weeping and cursing Josh and Orin. Then tired of depression, Cresta began, both emotionally and physically, cleaning house. She packed Josh's clothes and possessions and had them moved to the basement of the building. Screw him. He had treated her badly. She was going to keep the apartment.

  The rising elevator gave Cresta the strange sensation that she was levitating. Any minute she would float up to the ceiling like a balloon. She closed her eyes. The sensation subsided but her stomach continued churning.

  Jason was all too willing to arrange a European assignment for Cresta. He secured a very lucrative modelling deal for her in Rome. Cresta was intoxicated by the amazing city. Rome seemed to grow out of the ground, part and parcel of the rich and fertile earth around it. It was a city eroded by the weather and the sea, but it remained eternal. Cresta's ardor for Rome helped her to put aside her painful memories. She missed her period, but thought little about it, believing it a result of the recent upsets in her life. But when she missed her period a second time, Cresta made an appointment with a doctor.

  The elevator doors opened and the overhead lights began again ... glowing circles of brilliance ... shimmering madonna's halos ...luminous wedding rings.

  The doctor confirmed Cresta's fear that she was pregnant. Since she had already informed him that she was unmarried, he delicately suggested that he could arrange for termination of her pregnancy. To her surprise, Cresta heard herself reply that she wante
d to have her baby. It meant a loss of working time and, of course, the loss of a great deal of money. But she had plenty of money, stocks, investments, tax shelters, everything which accompanied the life of a successful model who had a smart business manager. Now she would have something more than money. She would have something to love.

  The gurney was turned too abruptly to the left, and Cresta, clenching and unclenching her hands, cried out in agony. "Hurry." She pleaded, "Please hurry."

  The modelling assignment led to a small part in a Fellini film. Cresta surprised everybody, including herself, with her natural acting ability, and there were promises of other roles. But as she neared her fifth month, she was simply too large. She contacted Dr. Anthony Forcetti, who was considered the best obstetrician in Rome. The doctor, concerned about Cresta's unusual weight gain, recommended a sonogram. Cresta was smeared with "jelly" and wired to the television-like computer. Soundwaves were projected through her body and they waited for the outline of the baby's form to appear on the screen.

  "Just as I thought," the doctor exclaimed. "You're going to have twins."

  Cresta was too shocked to say anything. She watched while the doctor outlined the babies' forms on the black-and-white screen. "You see, Cresta, they share a single outer membrane, the chorion. That means they are the same sex and will be identical." Then he pointed to the forms on the screen again. "And they're going to be boys."

  The doors to the delivery room opened, and a large, white-tiled space came into view. Cresta accepted a shot of Demerol and the nurses undressed and prepped her. She was placed on the delivery table and covered with sterile sheets. One nurse slipped the sterile leggings on her and, after Cresta was helped into the stirrups, another pair of hands sterilized her with Betadine, swabbing her with great gobs of cotton. "Don't push!" the nurse commanded.

  Dr. Forcetti, a handsome Italian in his mid-thirties, loomed above her and offered her an encouraging smile. "You're a little early, Cresta. Three weeks early, in fact. Why did you wait? Why didn't you take a taxi to the hospital hours ago?"

  "I wasn't sure," Cresta murmured. "And I was frightened."

  "Didn't anyone come with you?"

  "No," she replied harshly. "This is my project. Mine alone!" She began crying again. "I'm not going to die, am I, doctor?" Her voice was plaintive and reedy, like a little girl's.

  He shook his head. "You're going to be fine. And the babies, too. They're just anxious to see the world." Dr. Forcetti hurriedly finished scrubbing and examined Cresta. "She's fully dilated," he announced. The drug began to take effect. Cresta smiled dreamily at Dr. Forcetti and said, "I'm glad I don't know which one it is. I'm glad. It makes them more mine."

  The doctor didn't seem to hear her. "You can push now, Cresta!"

  "Thank God." As another contraction overtook her, Cresta bore down, threw back her head and howled. The sound was so startling that one nurse crossed herself.

  Cresta was sleepy when they wheeled her to a room on the ward. She was put into bed, given a sponge-bath by the nurse and dressed in a frothy pink nightgown her maid had brought to the hospital. Around one A.M. she awoke, unsure of where she was. Then she remembered. "My babies!" Cresta cried. "Where are my boys?" A nurse approached her bedside. Cresta demanded, "My twins. Are they all right?"

  "Of-course they are, my dear. Big, healthy boys, both of them."

  "But where are they?"

  "They're in the nursery. We'll bring them to you right away. Dr. Forcetti said you planned to nurse them."

  Cresta waited anxiously for the twins to arrive. She only vaguely remembered seeing them after they were delivered. They were quite red and each had a full head of fine, black hair. Their eyes, exactly like Josh and Orin's, were light grey flecked with gold and reminded Cresta of mother of pearl.

  The nurse, her face split in half by a giant grin, entered the room, carrying the infants. "You're going to literally have your arms full, Mrs. Farraday."

  "It's Miss," corrected Cresta.

  Without changing expression, the nurse presented Cresta's babies to her. Cresta was glowing as she kissed each of them and happiness streamed from her like sunshine.

  "What are you going to name them. Miss Farraday?"

  Cresta sighed, "I don't know. I've been making lists for months, but I haven't made up my mind."

  Both infants began crying at once. The nurse smiled indulgently. "Here, let me help you." She undid Cresta's hospital gown and the babies eagerly seized Cresta's swollen nipples and began sucking.

  Cresta leaned back against the pillows and gazed out the tall Gothic windows of the room. The gathering clouds parted to reveal a full moon, as thin and transparent as a communion wafer. One of the twins began to twitch his body and kick his feet as he tugged with more urgency at his mother's nipple. Cresta smiled. "They're so beautiful. Not just because they're mine, but they are beautiful."

  "Yes, they are," agreed the nurse. "They're going to grow up to break every girl's heart in Rome."

  "No, no," said Cresta quickly. "I'm going to be taking them back to New York City. That's where they're going to be brought up and they're going to have every Goddamned advantage I can give them. They'll be terribly spoiled and excruciatingly handsome, and they're going to have the best education money can buy. My boys are going to leave their mark on the world."

  From the back cover:

  WORSE THAN ANY NIGHTMARE

  It began with the bones. Strange remains of a creature almost human...

  Josh Holman at the New York Institute of Anthropology could not believe his eyes.

  He seemed to be staring at a new kind of missing link!

  The remains had come from the mountains of West Virginia. Josh would investigate. And with him would go his lady, beautiful Cresta Farraday, taking a vacation from her career as a top fashion model, hoping to revitalize her relationship with Josh.

  But the strange bones were the least of it.

  Before Josh and Creasta arrived in West Virginia, three people would die. Horribly...

  And they were only the first.

  Something in the mountains was hungry.

  Something that craved human flesh.

  Something that had a

  QUARREL WITH THE MOON

  Table of Contents

  Quarrel with the Moon

  Prologue

  Part One

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  Part Two

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  Part Three

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  Epilogue

  From the back cover: