Chapter 12I jogged across the road, and up through Mrs. Bench's yard. My feet crunched noisily through tobacco-brown leaves. I knew Mrs. Bench was not dead, but something else was going on. I clearly felt something. It was indescribable, but it was as though I had crossed some invisible barrier when I stepped up onto her porch. The atmosphere simply twanged with power, and there was a stench—rotten eggs—like the smell at Yellowstone the time my dad took us to walk around the geysers, hot springs, and mud pots. That smell was exactly like this one.
Something or some one was here from a place that wasn't on this plane.
Someone anticipated my arrival, of course, and the door flew open, while I was still three steps away. Bill stood in the doorway, holding open the screen door for me. My eye
