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39 "I thought she would have sprung to it," Chris said, slipping the phone back into his pocket. Half-way through the call, it had finally died. Marilyn had asked Tracie to fetch him the bottle of soda water from the fridge and he sat there with his back pressed against the wall, sipping continuously. The hangover was bearing down like bricks on a corrugated iron roof, but at least he was finally beginning to sober. He knew that what the boy had been talking about was crazy. And that what the woman and the boy had said had happened at the car had sounded crazier still. The fact that the old woman, her daughter the boy all believed it made him nervous, as well as the thought of that mutated magpie with those things growing out of the side of its body and its head beginning to take on the
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