In whose hands would she rather die?, she wondered. Her pursuer's or her stalker's? Neither!, she vowed to herself, finally freeing one hand. Making a fist, she pounded it against No Face's strong chest as he still held her close.
Then the terrible thought came to her: Is my stalker holding me so my pursuer can take his revenge on me? Am I going to be savagely taken, first by one and then the other? Then left to die alone in this graveyard?
"No!" she screamed inside herself, unable to take her eyes off the hideous face of the man who held her to him while she heard the other, laughing, as he came out of the shadows and started toward her, looking as if he knew he finally had her.
"Stephen!" His name exploded out of her even though it was muffled in the hand that remained clenched over her mouth. "You said if ever I really needed you, you would come to me, no matter what."
Time then stopped for Barbara. She had not fainted, nor had her thundering heart stopped beating. Time as she had known it until then stopped, and an entire lifetime -- her lifetime -- swept over her like the storm clouds gathering over the churchyard as a cold, wet veil of fog descended over the darkness and Barbara and her pursuer as he advanced on her and the stalker who held her close against him and would not let her go, or even scream.