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Authors: Richard Laymon

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CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Okay, I’m tooling along in Farmer Joe’s car, keeping a sharp look out for the bunch from the compound. But I never do see’em. The farmhouse was north of the compound, so they must’ve figured I’d keep going that way. Well, I didn’t. I went east. Got clean away.

But it gets to be daylight, and there’s some traffic on the highway, and I start getting queer looks from the jerks in the other cars. Doesn’t take me long to figure out why. I’m invisible, right? So who’s driving my car?

I don’t give much shit where I’m going—long as it’s not back to the compound—so I pull into a Denny’s and climb in back of the first car I find unlocked. Wherever they’re going, I’ll go. So I’m sitting there in the backseat and along comes not just momma and poppa, but three brats. Being invisible’s no cinch. When the door opens, I knock this little bastard on his ass and get out of there. The kid’s bawling, tells his dad somebody
pushed
him, and the old man gives him a whack for fibbing. Nice guy.

Next time, I play it safe. A guy comes in the parking lot alone. I make sure he doesn’t lock up, then I
go in Denny’s, in the kitchen there, and heist myself a coke and a couple of burgers and polish’em off while I wait for the guy.

He takes me into Iowa City, to this university there. I find my way into a girls’ dorm. I tell you, thought I’d died and gone to heaven. Plenty of food for the taking, found me an empty room, and
man
the girls! You should’ve seen those hons in the showers.

There’s one in par tic u lar, comes in for a shower every night around nine. A real honey, looks like a movie star, tits out to here. I’m sitting down so the steam won’t give me away. Front row seat. Watching her rub herself all over with soap. I’ve got a hard-on feels like it’s gonna bust.

Well, this one night I can see she’s hot. Not just washing, you know, but feeling herself, rubbing her tits, playing around with her puss. Finally, she gets on her back with her legs up so the water’s hitting her quiff. I move in with my mouth. I’m licking and sucking and sticking my tongue in, and she’s so far gone she doesn’t know, like she thinks the spray’s doing it. Maybe she thought she was dreaming, I don’t know. Well, she’s squirming and moaning and rubbing her tits, and I just go ahead and put my dick right in. Should’ve seen her eyes bug out. Looks down at herself. Reaches down. I pull it out and give her a handful. She feels it up and down, like trying to figure out if it’s what she thinks. She looks real confused and scared, at first. Then she gets this funny little smile on her face, and puts it back in.

I go ahead and hump the daylights out of her. She damn near screams when she comes.

After we’re done, she starts drying herself off, frowning like she’s trying to figure something out. Then she says, “Are you here?”

I take the towel, and finish drying her.

“What are you?” she asks.

I don’t answer.

“Am I…imagining you? I’ve never…here I am, talking to myself. Shit.” Then she reaches out and touches me, touches my dick. “You sure don’t
feel
like an hallucination.” She gets this funny smile again, and goes down on her knees and sucks me off. “Don’t taste like one, either,” she says when she’s finished. “What ever you are, I hope you don’t go away.”

“I’m the invisible man,” I whisper.

“No shit?”

“A government experiment went haywire. They’re after me.’Fraid I’ll spill the beans.” A good one, right? Spill the beans? Anyway, I tell her I’m hiding out’cause they’ll kill me, which wasn’t that far from the truth. If The Group ever got their hands on me…

Well, this gal’s fascinated. Says I can hide out in her room, and she’ll take care of me.

And she does. Man, does she take care of me! A real wild gal. Name was Robin, like the bird. The first couple days, she cut all her classes and stayed in the room with me. Only just left to get us food. Told all her friends she’d come down with something. It was like a fuckin’ honeymoon. Didn’t do nothing but play games.

That, and talk. A great talker, Robin. Name me a woman that isn’t. She wanted to know the story of my life. I just made up a lot of shit, made me sound like a regular sweetheart. Most of all, she wanted to know how I got invisible, and what it was like. Said she wished she was that way, she’d do just what I did except she’d head over to the boys’ shower room. I let her know it wasn’t all fun and games, like how you freeze your ass off when it’s cold out, and how tough it is to get places. Like how do you drive?

So she drags out her make up and shows me how to put it on so I’ve got a face. Puts a wig on me. Presto, I’ve got a head. After a couple of days, I have her go out and buy me some clothes and sunglasses. Now I’m all set. I don’t look like much. Look kind of weird, in fact, and even weirder when my mouth’s open, but I figure at least I’ll be able to get around at night like a human being.

Robin’s got other ideas, too. She’s full of ideas. It’s June, see, and she’s got final exams coming up. So she puts me to work hiding out in faculty offices and heisting exams. Stupid stuff, but it gave me something to do and kept her happy.

She also wants to even up a score. Her boyfriend dumped her for some bitch. They’re living off campus, so she drives me out there to take care of them. She just wants me to do some tricks, move some furniture around, make stuff float, scare the shit out of’em. But the gal turns out to be a fox so after I spook’em for a while, I do the guy, tear him up, chase the gal around with his head, have my own kind of fun.

Well, Robin finds out all about it when she sees the newspaper. Calls me a maniac, shit like that. Frankly, I think she’s just pissed’cause I fucked the gal. But she’s also yelling about how the cops’ll come looking for her, seeing as she was the jilted lover. I figure she’s probably right. The cops’ll pull her in and she’ll finger me. So it’s
adios
Robin. I break her neck and light out.

I take along her make up, and the clothes she bought me, and my six beans. I hide in a utility closet till night, then get the hell out of the dorm and steal her car. She isn’t gonna need it, right?

The car’s hot, though. I’m no dummy. I know I’ve gotta dump it fast. So I drive downtown—what there is of it—and I see where a movie’s just getting out. None of the gals coming out of the theater are alone, so I follow this guy. When he gets to his car, I bash him. I scoot him over to the passenger seat, and bring my stuff over to his car.

Smart, huh? Look at it this way: if I heist a car, somebody’s gonna miss it and call the cops. Probably by morning. There I am, stuck with another hot car before I hardly get used to it. But if I take the guy with it, he’s not gonna tell his car’s gone, right? Dead men don’t yap. And if a guy goes to the movies alone, you can lay odds he’s single. Won’t be a wife waiting up for him, worrying her tail off. So I figure I can use the car for a couple of days, at least, maybe longer. You ever need a car for a long haul, kill off the driver.

Anyway, once I’ve got the guy’s car, I drive out in the boondocks, throw him in the trunk, and put on
my makeup and clothes so I’ll pass for a normal person.

I’m on the road a long time, after that. I drive at night. Rip off restaurants and houses for food. Sleep in the backseat when daylight hits, either that or take a house. I found one place where the folks were on vacation or something. Stayed there a week. But most of the time, the places weren’t deserted and I had to do the people. Couldn’t stay more than a day or two, then,’cause sure enough somebody’d come around snooping.

Then it’d get in the papers. Goddamn papers. I know The Group, see, know they’re watching out for stuff like that. Probably sticking pins in a map. Not gonna quit till they’ve got my ass nailed.

So then I get this bright idea. I grab a camper, an RV, off a couple of old farts I figure are retired and nobody’s gonna miss’em for a while. Then I head west. Keep my hands to myself, don’t leave a trail for the fuckin’ Group.

First thing you know, I’m in Phoenix. I figure, hey, how about paying a visit to my old friends in Oasis?

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

“Give us Hoffman!”

The voice startled Lacey awake. She raised her head off the couch and saw Dukane crouched by the front window.

“Give us Hoffman,” the tinny voice continued, “and we’ll let you live.”

Lacey rushed to Dukane’s side. Looking out the window, she saw the black Rolls Royce stopped in front of the house—perhaps thirty feet away. The doors on its far side stood open, but the body of the car hid what ever was being done.

“I warn you,” said the amplified voice. Lacey spotted its source: a man on a distant rise of land, speaking into a megaphone. “Give us Hoffman, or you will all be annihilated. There is no escape for you unless you do as we ask. You have seen what we do to our enemies. Each of you will meet a similar end, if you continue to ignore our request.” The megaphone was lowered.

Lacey heard the bathroom door open. Scott rushed across the floor and knelt at the other window.

From behind the car came a heavy clank. A
hammer striking metal? The pounding continued with a slow, even rhythm.

“What’re they doing?”

Scott frowned at Lacey, and she saw anguish in his eyes. He backhanded speckles of sweat off his upper lip. “Maybe you shouldn’t watch.”

“You think it’s Nancy?”

“Yeah.”

Dukane suddenly rushed from the room.

The pounding stopped for a few seconds, then started again. Lacey scurried over to Scott’s window.

“Sounds like they’re driving in stakes,” he said.

“Oh God.” Lacey sank down. Turning, she sat beneath the window with her back against the wall. She brought up her legs, hugged them to her breasts, pressed her mouth to one knee.

The slow pounding kept on.

Dukane returned to the room, crouching low, a wine bottle in hand.

“Nobody’s moving in,” he said, and squatted near the other front window. “Can you tell what they’re doing?”

“Driving in stakes, I think.”

“Shit,” he muttered. He took a handkerchief from his pocket, tore it in half, and twisted one of the pieces into a strip. He stuffed it into the bottle’s mouth, and drew it out. The pungent fumes of gasoline stung Lacey’s nostrils.

He reversed the rag and stuffed it into the bottle again. Three inches hung out like a wick.

The pounding outside continued.

“Anybody got a match?”

Lacey hurled herself forward, scurried to the coffee table, and grabbed a lighter. She raced back to Dukane.

“When I open the door, light the rag.”

Lacey nodded, suddenly excited, eager to be striking back.

Dukane jerked the door open.

Lacey lighted the wick. As fire bloomed from the dripping rag, Dukane pitched the bottle. He slammed the door shut and dived into Lacey, throwing her to the floor as bullets burst through the wood above them. Splinters rained down.

Dukane rolled off, and scrambled to his window. Lacey saw Scott take aim. She rushed to his side as the flaming car lunged forward, its far doors still open, leaving two men behind. One raced after it, yelling, his open Hawaiian shirt fluttering behind him like a cape. He turned a somersault as Scott’s bullet smacked the back of his head. The other man, on his knees with a hammer when the car left him unprotected, sprang to his feet. He ran toward the house, waving the hammer overhead like the tomahawk of a demented Apache.

“Let him come!” Dukane yelled. “We can use him.”

His naked body, as bony as a starved man, was streaked with blood. Not his own, Lacey assumed. What had he been doing? She was afraid to look away from him. He ran toward the window, shrieking, and looked about to dive through when a dozen bullets hit him from behind.

Scott threw Lacey back.

The man’s head drove into the window as if trying
to squeeze itself between two of the flat, open slats of glass. They burst, tearing his scalp, ripping the sides of his face and neck. His chin came to rest on the sill. Blood slid down the inside of the wall.

Lacey scooted backward, unable to look away from the ghastly man’s head. “Get…get him
out
of here!” she stammered. “Get him OUT!”

“Oh good Christ,” Dukane said. He was staring out his window. “My God, those…!” Leaping away from the window, he took quick strides toward the dead man’s protruding head.

“What did they…?”


Bastards!
” Dukane swung up his leg in a vicious kick, catching the man in the face. The head bounded upward. Lacey glimpsed its torn, mashed face. The eyes seemed to glare at her with hatred for an instant as the head smashed through three more louvers. Then it dropped backward out of sight.

Scott ran to the window. He knelt beside it and looked out. “Oh no,” he muttered. He turned to Dukane, his face ashen. “What’ll we do?”

“Nothing.”


Nothing?

“We can’t get to her. They’d nail us before we got a yard.”

“We can’t just leave her like that!”

“Want to put her out of misery?”

“No! My God, Matt! I don’t think she’s even hurt.”

“Hard to tell.”

“I think she’s all right. But my God, we can’t
just…Stop!” he told Lacey, raising his hand like a traffic cop as she crawled forward. “You don’t want to see it.”

“What? What did they do to her? You said she’s all right.”

“They’ve got her staked down. With Jan.”

“Jan?”

“What’s left of her,” Dukane muttered. “They’re tied facetoface.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

I’m in the camper, right? I’m not gonna take it to Oasis, though. Suppose somebody digs up the old farts? I don’t want their RV popping up where I’m at. So I ditch it at the Phoenix airport, along with my clothes and make up, and don’t take nothing with me but my four beans. I’d lost two, by then. But the one I’d eaten was still doing its job. Still is. That’s close to two months, right?

Okay, I take a Greyhound to Oasis. Leave the driving to them. The thing was nearly empty, so I didn’t have no trouble.

First thing I do when I get there, I look up my old pal Lacey in the phone book. Only her name ain’t in it. I figure she’s either unlisted, or she’s got herself married, or she’s moved on. I can’t exactly stop someone on the street and ask, right? If she’s in Oasis, though, I’m gonna find her.

So what I do, I head for the old lady’s market. To o much going on in the Safeway, people gonna be tripping over me. The market’s quiet, I know my way around. Hell, I damn near lived in that dump when I was a kid. After school, weekends. Beat the shit out of me if I gave’em any lip about it.

Well, this is my chance to pay the old lady back. Spook her up, and do her. But first I’m gonna lay low. If Lacey’s still in town, she’s gonna pop up in the market sooner or later. Everybody does. Even the Safeway regulars, they show up for a frozen pizza or aspirin or some kind of odds and ends. So I’ll just hang out and wait.

Only trouble is, the old bat’s got ears like a hawk. I don’t even make it through the first day, and she hears me moving around. It’s night, about an hour before closing time, when suddenly she perks up and starts acting scared and looking all over for me.

Well, I like seeing her scared. Gives me a kick, throwing a fright into folks, but she’s special. I’m thinking of all the times she used to slam me around, whip me with the ironing cord. Her and the old man both. Too bad
he
kicked off before I got a chance at him, the old turd. Anyway, she’s plenty scared’cause of the noises, so I throw another one into her by opening up the cash register. That does it. She closes and high tails it.

I’m pissed, right? There goes my big plan for laying low and waiting for Lacey to show up. So I’m eating a steak and soaking up a bottle of red to make myself feel better when some asshole starts pounding on the door. I toss a fuckin’ meat cleaver at him. Too bad I missed.

So what happens next? A whole troop comes piling into the store. The old lady, the jerk that was at the door, some other gal, and guess who? My old pal, Lacey. Things are looking up, right? Only they take
one look at the cleaver stuck in the door, and run off like the joint’s haunted.

I go after’em. By the time I get to the door, though, they’re packed in this car and taking off.

Well, at least I know Lacey’s still in town.

A cop shows up, a little later. I just stand around and watch him search. When he takes off, I sack out in the storeroom.

That was Friday night. I figured the old cow’d be back in the morning, but she didn’t open up all weekend. Spooked her good, I guess. Anyway, she comes in Monday morning and sees the mess I’d made. She always did hate messes. She wasn’t so scared, this time. Just pissed off. People came in, she’d tell’em it was vandals, probably kids. If they come back, she says, she’s gonna fix their wagon.

So that night, some pal of hers shows up with a fuckin’ watchdog. I get out of there till they leave,’cause the dog’s gonna go for me, you know. Well, once they’re gone I sneak in again to take care of the mutt. It damn near got me, but I opened up its head with the meat cleaver and ripped the thing apart. Then I skinned it. Even tried some. I figure, shit, it tried to take a bite out of me. Turnabout’s fair play. Didn’t taste bad.

I figure all hell’s gonna break loose when they find what’s left of the dog, so I get out of there before morning.

Head over to the high school. Forgot school’s out for the summer, till I got there. But it turns out they’ve got summer school going, and most of it’s athletic stuff. So I’m okay, after all.

Guess where I go? Where else, the girls’ shower room. I’ve got a thing about shower rooms, huh? When I was a kid, I used to always dream about getting into this one, grabbing a peek at all those hons, maybe copping a feel here and there. Used to wish I could turn invisible, and just spend all day with’em. Well, I knew that was impossible. Impossible, right? So I thought I’d dress up like a girl and sneak in that way. Figured I’d get caught, though. Well, now I’m invisible and I make my dream come true.

These hons are a lot younger than the ones at the university. Some are still flat, some got these tiny little pointed tits that look like they’re half nipple, and some got boobs out to here. Some haven’t even got a bush, yet.

I have a great time watching, sometimes grabbing a little feel. Tell you how you do it. I worked out a system at the university. You go for where their hands are. They’re rubbing soap on their pussy, you can get in a feel without them noticing. See what I mean?

Anyway, around noon, things slow down in the shower department. Only a few in there, rinsing off after their volleyball and stuff. One’s this blonde with nifty little pointed tits. I follow her home. The house is empty, which works out nicely. I don’t want her knowing my secret, so I bop her on the head. Then I blindfold and gag her. Wait till she comes around before I start the fun and games.

You’ll be happy to know I didn’t kill her. No point. Just draw attention to myself, right? The way I did it, she maybe kept it to herself. You live in a little
town like Oasis, you don’t want it getting around you’ve been raped. People figure you brought it on yourself, you’ll never live it down. So I just left her, and headed on back to the market.

Guess who’s there. Not just my old lady, but the asshole that owned the dog. He’s got himself a shotgun. And he doesn’t go away. He’s gonna blow the head off the bastard that put the dark on his pooch. So he says.

The store’s full of people. They’re all buying one or two things, just for an excuse to visit the scene of the crime. Must be eight o’clock before the joint clears out.

That’s when I go to it. Start spooking’em. The asshole almost gets me with his shotgun, though. Blows apart a coke display. Then I take his shotgun away and knock him on the head. I don’t have time to finish the job,’cause the old lady’s screaming her face off and running for the door.

I catch up to her, throw her down, and tell her who I am. It’s Sammy, her darling son, come back to give her a taste of what she’d given him.

She’s crying and pleading with me, saying she’s sorry. Man, is she sorry. Especially when I start snapping her fingers. I have to gag her to stop the screams. Then I drag her back to the meat counter.

She and the old turd taught me how to be a butcher, how to use the bone saw and cleaver. Made me sick. All that blood. But then I got to like it, and they’d catch me eating the raw meat and they’d say I was stealing and knock me around. Well, they got their way. Made me into a butcher.

So here goes the old bag, up on the chopping block. I go at her real slow, wanting to keep her alive for a while so she can see what a good butcher she turned out. I even use tourniquets on her stumps to keep the bleeding down so she’ll last a while longer.

Hope she enjoyed it.

Packaged her up real nice in cellophane, and laid her out with the rest of the beef. Then I went over to the guy. He’s still out cold. I start with his arm. Hack it right off. And then I hear the front door open.

If it ain’t my old pal, Lacey! This, I know, is gonna be a banner day. I let her snoop around some, then I go for her. Knock her out, strip her down, and do what I’d been wanting to do since I was a high school kid. Ah, she was fine, just fine. You oughta know, right? You haven’t had a piece yet, you’re missing a bet.

I don’t kill her. No way. I’ve got big plans for her. So I leave. Only one car in the lot, that and a pickup truck. I knew the pickup belonged to the dog man, so the car has to be Lacey’s. I get in, and lay down on the back floor.

It’s a long wait. The cops come. I don’t know, it’s maybe an hour before she finally comes out. She checks the car real careful, almost like she knows I’m there. Doesn’t see me, though. Course not. So she starts up the car and heads for home.

She lights up this cigarette, and I cough. God knows what she must’ve thought. Scared her plenty, though. Thinks I’m in the trunk, I guess. When she stops, she jumps on the trunk like maybe it isn’t
locked. Has her face pressed up against the back window and here I am, looking right at her with her cheek mashed in.

Then she runs off, goes in her house, and I get out of the car. I’m standing there, and out she comes with a revolver. Shit, this gal’s got balls. She goes right to the trunk and opens it, planning to blast me to hell. Course, I’m not there. I’m over by her front door, now, waiting for her to come back and open it.

She gets it unlocked, and we’re about to go in when this jock shows up. He’s gonna play big hero and search around. So they go off together, and she doesn’t bother to lock the door up, so I help myself and go inside.

Pretty soon, they come in. The guy looks all over the place. He wants to stay, but Lacey won’t bite, so he runs off and she’s finally alone.

Almost alone, right?

Gets herself some wine, and makes this call. That’s how I find out she works for the paper. Cute call. Doesn’t tell what I did to her. That’s gonna be her secret. Just between her and me. Like I say, you can’t let a thing like that get around, not in a town like Oasis.

So after the call, lo and behold, she locks herself in the john and starts to run the bath. Never even suspects I’m right in there with her. I have myself a great time watching her strip, check herself out in the mirror, lay down in the tub, soap herself up, sip her wine. I just stand there enjoying it for a while. I figure, she’s mine now. I own her. I can do what I want with her, as much as I want.

Well, I finally decide it’s time to spook her, start
showing her who’s running the show. So I turn off the light. I hear her splashing. Then she’s out of the tub and pointing this pistol at her door as if I’m gonna come bashing through it. I just stand behind her and enjoy it. She’s scared shitless. I can hear her gasping, making little whiny sounds. I leave her alone till she starts to get dressed, then I nail her. This time’s better than before. It’s better when they’re conscious, squirming and crying. Adds a little flavor to the proceedings, you know?

By the time I’m done, I’m beat. Busy day, right? So it’s time to hit the sack. I tie her to the bed and blindfold her. Don’t want her walking off—or limping, as the case may be. And I don’t want her learning my little secret till I’m ready to spring it on her. I want to see her reaction.

Next morning, after some asshole comes to the door, I have another go at her. She’s better than ever, squirming and fighting. That should’ve given me a clue: the bitch has a lot more guts than I counted on. But I figure, once she sees I’m invisible, she’s gonna know she can’t win. She’ll fall in line.

I let her know my plan. She’s gonna be like Robin in Iowa, gonna take care of me and keep her mouth shut, and go on about her business just like nothing’d happened. I warn her what’ll happen if she screws up. Then I go ahead and untie her and take off the blindfold.

First thing she does, when she sees she can’t see me, is give me a kick in the nuts. Then she runs. But she’s smart, gotta give her that. She doesn’t try to run away, knows she can’t get away from someone
she can’t see, so instead she goes in the kitchen thinking she’ll finish me off. Throws flour on me so she can see where I am, and sticks a knife in my back.

That would’ve taken care of most guys, just like all the fuckin’ bullets you pumped in Tome. But I’m not most guys, right? I’ve drunk at the river, all that shit. Got magic powers. So she hurts me and gets away, probably thinks she’s killed me.

But she hasn’t. I’m out of there and hiding by the time the cops show up. Well, I figure she’ll come back sooner or later. I’ll just wait her out.

That’s what, Thursday? I hang around all day, and she doesn’t come back. Then I hang around Friday. When she doesn’t show up by Saturday, I figure it’s gonna be a long wait if I don’t get into action.

I know she works for the paper, right? So I figure somebody there’s gonna know where to find her. Turns out, the cops are there. Somebody got offed with a letter opener, and there’s a note makes it sound like I done it. Weird, huh? Anyway, I stick around till the cops go. There’s only me and the editor. He’s acting funny.

I get ready in case I have to follow him. Snatch a shirt and cowboy hat out of the cleaners next door. Hide the stuff out back, then I nail some bitch that’s getting in her car. I park it near the
Trib
’s lot, check her purse to see she’s got some blush-on for my face—better than nothing—and put my clothes in her car.

I’m all set, right? I just wait a while, and the
editor shows up. He checks his car real careful. Good thing I didn’t hide in it, huh?

So I follow him to Tucson, and the rest is history. You know the rest. Except maybe how I got in the room, that second time. Lowered myself on a sheet. Man, that was hairy!

When you got away that time, I figured I’d flush you out with a fire. Used cleaning fluid. Started four fires, in all. Burned real good.

I would’ve had you and Lacey, only I got overconfident about the gun. Well, shit, can’t win’em all.

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