By Charles L. Grant
A warm evening in Oxrun Station—a lovely time for a picnic.
If only they hadn’t chosen to visit the orchard …
It was the last lovely time.
The first death seems to be an accident.
But there’s no doubt about the suicide, or the mutilation murder, or the horror that seizes the movie theater, or the terror that inhabits the hospital …
All are the fruits of that night in the orchard.