Blood Games (47 page)

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Authors: Richard Laymon

BOOK: Blood Games
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    ‘Looks like Wolfe was right,’ Vivian said.
    She laughed. ‘Can’t go home again… not without a tiny car, anyway.’
    They retreated to wider roads. ‘Anybody want to visit Muir Woods or the top of Mount Tam?’ she asked. ‘They’re on the way.’
    ‘Have you got your heart set on it?’ Cora asked.
    ‘I’m gonna bring Harris over here on our honeymoon. Give
    him a guided tour of where I spent my callow youth. Unless you guys are interested, we can skip ’em.’
    ‘I guess I’d rather get on over to the coast,’ Cora said. Abilene navigating, they made their way along twisty roads and down the side of Mount Tamalpias to the town of Stinson Beach. In a shop there, Cora selected a wetsuit and a surfboard. ‘I’m the only one gonna surf?’ she asked.
    ‘You can count me out,’ Finley said. ‘I’ll record your wipeouts for posterity.’
    ‘I’ll borrow yours if I get the urge,’ Abilene said. ‘Which I doubt.’
    ‘I’m not going in the ocean,’ Helen said. ‘There’s sharks out there.’
    ‘This’ll do it for me,’ Vivian said, holding up a string bikini.
    ‘You’re planning to wear that in public?’ Abilene asked.
    ‘If Cora’s right, there won’t be any public. Right?’
    ‘That’s the idea,’ Cora agreed. ‘That’s why I decided we should go north. Miles and miles of deserted coastline. If we stop in the right places, we’ll have the water to ourselves.’
    ‘Because it’s too cold for sensible people,’ Abilene pointed out.
    ‘That shouldn’t bother any of you pansies,’ Cora said. ‘Sounds like I’ll be the only one going out in it.’
    She purchased her surfboard and wetsuit. Vivian purchased her bikini. Then they returned to the RV and headed north on Pacific Coast Highway.
    
***
    
    They stopped for lunch in Bodega Bay. Helen was thrilled. This was where Hitchcock’s The Birds had taken place. Their table at the restaurant overlooked the very same stretch of water that Tippi Hedren had been crossing in a motorboat when a bird had swooped down and pecked her head. ‘I can’t believe I’m actually here,’ she said, and took an eager gulp of her Bloody Mary.
    Abilene laughed. ‘Last year, Grandpa Munster’s. This year, Bodega Bay. You’ve really been lucking out.’
    ‘Yeah,’ Finley said. ‘Even if the rest of the trip turns out to be a total bust, you…’
    ‘It won’t,’ Cora interrupted. ‘We’ll have a great time.’
    ‘Watching you ride a surfboard?’
    ‘It’s great so far,’ Helen said. ‘And next year’s my turn. We’ll go some place really cool.’
    ‘Lining up a haunted house for us?’ Abilene asked.
    ‘I’m still working on it. But you can bet I’ll find some place just dripping with spookiness.’
    After lunch, they went to a market and stocked up on supplies: groceries, soft drinks, booze, ice, sun block, and fresh batteries for their flashlights.
    Before leaving town, they drove past the old schoolhouse that had played such a prominent role in The Birds. Helen gaped out the window at it. ‘Fantastic,’ she muttered. ‘Incredible.’
    ‘You’ll have to come to L.A. sometime,’ Vivian told her. ‘Fin and I’ll take you to Universal, and you can see the Psycho house.’
    ‘Yeah! Neat!’
    Then they left Bodega Bay behind. In the late afternoon, the fog came in. It had been lingering over the ocean, but moving slowly closer until its white, smoky fingers began creeping over the edge of the bluffs and scurrying across the road ahead of them.
    ‘You’d better start looking for a place to pull off,’ Abilene warned.
    ‘Gotta find a way down to the water,’ Cora said, and kept driving. Soon, the fog was so thick that it blocked out the sunlight. They were moving through a murky grayness that hid the ocean and the cliff at the left edge of the two-lane highway and the rocky slope to the right. The pavement itself seemed to dissolve into fog. Its yellow, center lines faded and vanished only a few yards in front of the vehicle. ‘Can’t see shit,’ Cora finally said.
    ‘Just get off the road,’ Abilene said. Peering out the passenger window, she saw the vague shape of a low stone parapet. ‘But not here. I think we’re on a bridge.’
    ‘Great.’
    ‘Slow down,’ she said as the end of the wall passed her window. ‘There’s gotta be a pull-out, or… here!’
    Braking, Cora swung to the right. The smooth pavement went away. The camper rocked slightly. Its tires crunched along the gravel shoulder.
    ‘Get as far over as you can,’ Abilene suggested.
    Cora steered more to the right, then stopped.
    ‘We aren’t gonna stay here?’ Helen said.
    ‘Would you rather go off a cliff?’ Vivian asked.
    ‘Some real excitement for a few seconds,’ Finley said.
    ‘The fog probably won’t lift till tomorrow,’ Abilene explained. ‘It’s just one of those things, when you drive the coast up here. But we’ve got everything we…’
    ‘Is it a mirage,’ Cora broke in, ‘or is that a road there?’
    Abilene leaned closer to the windshield. Just ahead and to the right, the gravel area seemed to flare out. ‘Might be.’
    Cora drove toward it. ‘A road, all right.’
    ‘If you can call it that,’ Abilene said. The lane was unpaved, rutted, and angled downward for a brief stretch before disappearing in the fog.
    ‘Is it wide enough for us?’ Vivian asked.
    ‘Let’s give it a try,’ Cora said. ‘Maybe it goes down to the shore.’
    ‘I hope it’s not someone’s driveway,’ Helen said.
    ‘I doubt it,’ Abilene told her.
    ‘This’ll be fun,’ Finley said.
    ‘What if we get stuck?’ Helen asked.
    ‘You worry too much,’ Cora told her, and started forward.
    ‘Be careful,’ Abilene muttered.
    Cora inched the camper down the road. On her side was a steep, rocky slope with a few scraggly bushes. On Abilene’s side was nothing but fog. She suspected that a wrong turn in that direction would send them plummeting to the bottom of a ravine.
    The camper bounced and shook. Sometimes, Abilene heard the squeak of bushes scraping against its side.
    She spent much of the time gritting her teeth. And clenching her thighs through the corduroy legs of her pants. And holding her breath.
    We’re getting lower all the time, she told herself. Eventually, we’re bound to reach the bottom. Or at least a nice, broad area of flat ground where we can stop for the night.
    Eventually. If we live that long.
    A hairpin turn reversed their direction and put the hillside close to Abilene’s window. She felt a little better, having it there - almost near enough to touch.
    ‘I don’t like this,’ Cora said. Apparently, she didn’t enjoy having the abyss beside her.
    ‘You’re doing fine,’ Vivian told her.
    ‘Maybe the rest of you should get out and walk ahead.’
    ‘The worst is over,’ Abilene said. ‘We’ve gotta be almost down, by now.’
    ‘Just think,’ Finley said. ‘If we do get to the bottom in one piece, we’ll have to go back up again.’
    ‘Sooner or later,’ Abilene agreed.
    ‘Not today,’ Cora said. ‘No way. Wherever we end up, that’s where we’re gonna stay till the fog goes away.’
    ‘Driving back up won’t be nearly as bad,’ Abilene said. ‘Maybe we’re lucky we can’t see what we’re doing,’ Finley suggested. ‘We might not’ve had the guts to try it if…’
    ‘All right!’ Cora blurted.
    Abilene looked to the left.
    Where the gray void had been, she saw a blurry dark shape beyond the roadside. A treetop?
    They continued downward, and more trees appeared. Each seemed taller than the last.
    Turning to her window, she watched the desolate slope recede. Soon, there was level ground on both sides of the camper. She reached over and slapped Cora’s thigh.
    ‘A piece of cake,’ Cora said.
    ‘Ya done good,’ Finley said.
    ‘God,’ Helen said, ‘I didn’t think we’d make it.’
    ‘Can we stop now?’ Vivian asked.
    ‘Let’s see where it goes,’ Cora said. ‘I think we’re heading back toward the water. We might as well get as close as we can. Maybe we’ll run into the beach.’
    She drove slowly onward. Out the windows, all that Abilene could see beyond their strip of road were nearby pines and thickets, fallen trees, boulders and fog.
    That was all.
    Until, gazing through her side window, she glimpsed the rear end of a pick-up truck. It loomed for an instant - green paint and rust, a broken brake-light, an open tailgate - and then they’d left it behind.
    
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
    
CORA’S CHOICE
    
    ‘Did you see that?’ Abilene asked.
    ‘What?’
    ‘That pick-up truck.’
    ‘You’re seeing things, Hickok.’
    ‘I saw it, all right. It was parked back there by the road.’
    ‘Anybody inside?’ Cora asked.
    ‘I don’t know. I couldn’t even see into its bed. It was kind of a wreck, though. It might’ve been abandoned.’
    ‘Oh, well,’ Cora said. ‘Big deal.’
    ‘I don’t know,’ Vivian said. ‘If someone else is down here…’
    ‘If you think we’re leaving, you’re nuts.’
    The road ahead of them widened out. It seemed to cease being a road at all as it joined a broad, flat area.
    ‘What’ve we got here?’ Cora asked, driving forward.
    ‘A parking lot?’ Abilene suggested.
    ‘Looks like… Yep,’ Cora said when a pale log loomed out of the fog, barring their way. She stopped at it, shut off the headlights and killed the engine. ‘Well, gang, here we are.’
    ‘Wherever that might be,’ Vivian said.
    ‘I hope it’s not private property,’ Helen muttered.
    ‘I just hope the natives are friendly,’ Finley said.
    ‘Why don’t we climb out and scout around?’ Cora suggested.
    Abilene opened her door and jumped to the ground. A layer of sand carpeted the solid earth. Though she couldn’t see more than a few yards in any direction, she heard seagulls squawking. She also heard the distant, muffled sounds of the surf tumbling, washing up the shore and withdrawing.
    ‘We made it to the water all right,’ she said as the others joined her.
    ‘We’re probably under that bridge,’ Cora said.
    If so, the bridge was out of sight.
    Finley stepped onto the log barrier and walked along it, arms out for balance. At its end, she leaped to another. A few more strides and she was gone.
    ‘Don’t go wandering off,’ Abilene called.
    The fog seemed to deaden her voice.
    ‘Just exploring, Hickok.’
    ‘We oughta get back in the camper,’ Vivian said, ‘and explore a botde of tequila. It’s cold out here.’
    ‘And creepy,’ Helen added.
    ‘I thought you liked creepy,’ Cora said.
    ‘It’s nice and cozy inside.’
    A dark smudge in the fog became Finley. ‘It is a parking area,’ she called from her log. She kept moving. ‘So far, it looks like nobody’s here but us.’ She vanished again, this time hidden by the camper, not fog.
    ‘Let’s stick with her,’ Abilene suggested.
    ‘Yeah.’ Raising her voice, Cora said, ‘God forbid we should lose Finley.'
    ‘Ha ha,’ came a disembodied reply.
    Helen curled her upper lip.
    ‘What is it?’ Abilene asked.
    She shook her head. ‘Nothing. I was just thinking. What if we did lose her? You know? What if she just went roaming off into the fog and we never found her again?’
    ‘No such luck,’ Cora said.
    ‘Her tapes might fall into the hands of strangers,’ Vivian pointed out.
    Cora’s mouth fell open with mock alarm. ‘My God, I hadn’t thought of that. Fin!’ she shouted. ‘Hold up!’
    They went after her. Cora in the lead, they stepped over the log and followed it past the front of the camper. No sign of Finley.
    What if she is gone? Abilene thought. Ridiculous. But Helen had given voice to her own fears and made them seem less farfetched.
    Anything, anyone, might be lurking in the fog.
    ‘Finley, say something!’ she called.
    ‘Guys?’
    Her voice sounded eager, as if she’d made some kind of odd discovery. It had come from somewhere not far ahead, but slightly off to the right - in the direction of the ocean.
    They quickened their pace.
    Abilene spotted a blurry, indistinct figure through the shrouding fog. Two figures.
    Her stomach seemed to drop like an express elevator.
    Finley. Finley and someone else. Someone big.
    ‘Oh my Christ,’ Helen gasped.
    Finley, clear now, looked over her shoulder at her approaching friends. ‘Gang, this is Rick.’
    ‘Hi.’ Rick raised a hand. He smiled. He appeared to be seventeen, maybe eighteen, years old. His crew cut was matted down, his face dripping. His face was tanned so dark that his teeth and the whites of his eyes almost seemed iridescent. He was well over six feet tall, powerfully built. He wore a black wetsuit with pale blue piping on its sleeves and legs. A surfboard lay in the sand near his bare feet.
    Studying him, Abilene felt her fears slip away.
    He’s just a big kid, she thought. A very big kid. And a hunk.
    ‘A friendly native,’ Finley explained. Reaching out, she patted his chest. ‘You must be freezing, Rick. Why don’t you come on along with us? You can warm up in our recreational vehicle.’

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