"Wait here for me. I've got to get something from the office."
"We'll wait," Remo said as Perriweather strode off. To Chiun, Remo said, "Whatever is in there knows we are coming."
"And doesn't like the idea," Chiun said. The noises from inside the room stopped for a moment, then exploded startlingly, before stopping abruptly.
Suddenly, behind them, a steel panel dropped, sealing off the corridor. At that moment, the heavy door ahead of them swung open.
Chiun looked at the heavy steel-plate panel. "Forward or back?" Remo said.
"I suppose we should see the surprise this lunatic has prepared for us," Chiun said.
The two men walked into the room. Two people, a man and a woman, were standing quietly inside, near the far wall. Their faces wore small smiles. Their hands were folded ceremoniously in front of them.
"Hello," said Remo. He turned to Chiun. "What do you make of this?"
"The animal sounds came from this room," Chiun said.
Gloria Muswasser smiled and she and Nathan moved away from each other. Between them, on the floor, was a puddle of blood in which floated a broken human skull. Gloria moved slowly toward Remo and Chiun.
"The wallpaper is red," Remo said, noticing it for the first time.
"It is not paper. It is blood," Chiun said.
Gloria opened her mouth. A vapor of foul-smelling gas belched from her like smoke from a chimney, along with a deep growl so loud and low it seemed to shake the walls. Her eyes glinted inhumanly.
"You ought to take something for that gas," Remo said. He casually extended a hand toward Gloria, but with one lightning-fast motion she swatted him across the room like a Ping-Pong ball. Instinctively Remo curled himself up and struck the wall with both feet, bouncing off unhurt.
"What the ... ?"
Nathan was coming at him, shrilling like a policecar whistle. His arms were outstretched, his fingers bloodied, his eyes glazed. From the corner of his vision, Remo could see the woman coming toward him too, her teeth bared like a rabid dog's in a vicious rictus of hatred.
"Take care of the man," Chiun said softly.
Remo saw the old man's arms move in a gentle teasing circle, then heard a piercing shriek as Gloria, wild-eyed, whirled in her tracks to attack the Korean.
And then Nathan was moving toward Remo, his head down oxlike, but moving as fast as a blink. As he circled Remo, swatting and lunging, his movements so quick they were hard to follow, Remo ducked the man's unfocused attacks as best he could.
One crashing thump landed on Remo's shoulder blades, knocking the wind out of him. As Remo tried to rise, Nathan jumped into the air, a full six feet high, then slammed feetfirst toward Remo.
"All right," Remo growled. "Enough of this." He spun out of the way a split second before Nathan landed. The force of the man's feet broke the floorboards beneath the carpet and Nathan sank in, his head tossing around bewilderedly.
"Hole," said Remo, pointing to the cavity around Nathan's feet.
"Naaaaargh," Nathan roared.
"Close enough," Remo said. He brought both fists down on Nathan's shoulders and concentrated his power on the points of impact. The big man fell through the floor with a deafening roar, pulling the carpet through the opening with him..
Remo glanced up to see Gloria lunging, screaming, toward Chiun. The old Oriental stood stock-still, his arms folded in front of him. He nodded toward Remo, who waited a split second, then stuck out his foot. She lurched forward, bellowing.
"Upsy daisy," Remo said, grabbing her foot and tossing her into the air.
She somersaulted twice, then fell facefirst into the hole through which the carpet had disappeared. She landed with a thunk.
"Adequate," Chiun told Remo.
"They're not growling anymore," Remo said. "Maybe they got knocked out."
"Not growling, but there is something else. Do you hear it?"
Remo listened. There was a low buzzing, faint but incessant, coming from the basement. Together the two men moved toward the hole in the floor as a swarm of flies, solidly black in the brightly-lit room, poured through the hole.
"I think we should leave," Remo said.
"Without knowing what is down there?" Chiun asked, pointing toward the hole.
"You go see. I'll wait here for you."
"The Master of Sinanju does not go climbing into basements."
Remo groaned to himself, then slid through the opening, blocking his breathing passages against the onslaught of flies that thickly blackened the cellar. As more insects escaped through the opening above, Remo could begin to see through the miasma of flying black bodies.
The bodies of the two creatures who had attacked them were lying in twisted positions on a heap of carpeting so covered with flies that they resembled lumps of chocolate more than human forms: Remo swatted a few dozen flies from their faces. Their eyes were wide open and beginning to glaze.
"They're dead," Remo shouted.
"So?"
"So what else do you want? There are about ten million flies down here," Remo said.
"So tell me something I don't know."
Remo looked around. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could make out some other shapes, all of them fuzzy and soft-looking from the carpet of flies covering them. Stomping and waving his arms; he cleared the insects from one of the shapes.
"Jesus," he said softly, as he saw the white bones emerge. It was the skeleton of a full-grown cow, its bones picked nearly clean. Only a few ragged pieces of rotting meat remained on the bones.
There were other skeletons, a dog, several cats, and something with horns that Remo thought must once have been a goat.
He jumped back up through the opening.
"It's a graveyard," he said. "Dead animals." He paused.
"More than a graveyard?" Chiun asked.
"Like a restaurant. A restaurant for flies," Remo said. "Let's get out of here."
By the time they had ripped down the heavy steel panel and searched the house, it was empty. Ferriweather had gone.