Dark Mountain (13 page)

Scott fell to his knees. Karen was lying motionless on her open sleeping bag, arms and legs spread wide. He pressed a hand below her rib cage. He felt the rise and fall of her breathing, and he started to cry.

“Karen?” he whispered. She didn’t stir.

In a boot near her head, he found a flashlight. He turned it on, and shined the light on her face. Her eyelids trembled, but didn’t open. Her left cheekbone was swollen. Her face was slick in places. Teeth marks on her cheek, her mouth. It was all blurry through Scott’s tears. Sobbing quietly, he backhanded the tears from his eyes.

“Dad?” Julie’s voice. “How is she?”

“Alive.”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

Julie crawled through the flap, and knelt beside him. “Is she unconscious?”

“Yeah.” He moved the beam down her body.

Julie groaned as it lit wet shiny places and crooked teeth marks on Karen’s left shoulder and breast. “God,” she murmured.

Fingers had put scratches and red imprints on her skin, but Scott saw no blood, no stab wounds.

“Is everybody okay?” Benny called from outside.

“Yes,” Scott answered. “Stay out there.”

The marks ended at Karen’s rib cage. He nudged Julie. She leaned out of his way and he bent over her body and
shined the light on her vagina. There was no blood, no semen. Her legs looked okay.

“Dad?” Julie whispered. “He raped her.”

He nodded.

“Do you think she’ll be all right?”

“I don’t…” His voice cracked. “I don’t know. Here.” He gave Julie the flashlight. “Go over to my tent. Get her sweatshirt. It’s in my sleeping bag.”

Without a word, she hurried from the tent.

Scott found Karen’s sweatpants in the space behind her boots. They were folded neatly.

God, she must’ve been lying here naked, waiting for him. If only Benny had fallen asleep a few minutes earlier…if the rain hadn’t come…if he hadn’t been so damned worried about everyone else, and simply tented with her all along…

He stroked the length of her outflung leg, slipped his hand under her calf, and lifted it. He slipped the sweatpants over her foot and drew in her other leg. By the time Julie returned, he had the pants in place. Together, they lifted her to a sitting position and pulled the sweatshirt over her head. Scott worked her limp arms into the sleeves. He lowered her gently, and smoothed the cover of the sleeping bag over her.

Julie was kneeling beside him, staring down at the dark bundle. He put an arm around her. “How are you doing, tiger?”

“Okay.”

“Jesus.”

“Are
you
okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re gonna freeze.”

He realized, vaguely, that he was naked except for his jockey shorts. He was wet and shivering. “I’m okay,” he said.

“I guess the guy’s dead.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry it was Nick. He didn’t have to. I—it’s too bad.”

“I’ll go see how he’s doing. If you don’t need me anymore.”

Scott nodded.

Julie eased away. She brought her own sleeping bag over, and wrapped it around him. “Benny and I—we’ll stay in the other tent.” She kissed him lightly on the cheek, and left.

Benny grabbed Julie’s arm as she stood up outside the tent. He stared at her, the rain splashing on his glasses. “Is she okay?” he asked.

“She’s unconscious.”

“What’d he do to her?”

“He knocked her out.”

“I know, but…”

“Why don’t you go back to the tent? You’re drenched.” His chin started to shake. “I gotta know how she is!”

“She’ll be fine.”

“Goddamn stinking rotten dirty bastard!”

Julie put her hand on Benny’s cold, dripping cheek. “She’ll be all right. You’ll see.”

“
He
won’t!
He’s
dead! I wish
I’d
killed him!” Benny suddenly threw himself against Julie and hugged her tightly. She wrapped her arms around him. He was sobbing out of control. His stocking cap was sodden and cold against her cheek.

Beyond his head, Julie saw Nick sitting on a rock by the dead fire. He was wearing a hooded poncho. He was slumped forward, staring at his feet.

Her own poncho, which she’d left on the ground when the storm hit, was spread over the dead body. It was barely visible through the darkness and sheeting rain. She thought of what was under it, and turned her eyes away.

Flash, in a clear plastic rain slicker, was crouched in front of the far tent, apparently talking to Alice and the girls.

He shouldn’t have left Nick alone.

“Come on,” Julie said. “Dad’s gonna stay with Karen. If you’re staying outside, why don’t you go get your poncho? And try to find Dad’s for me. Okay?”

With a nod, Benny backed away and walked toward the
other tent. Julie went over to Nick. He looked up as she stopped in front of him. “How are you doing?” she asked.

“I still feel a little sick. How about you? Did he hurt you?”

“Bruised me a little. He got Karen pretty bad, though. He raped her.”

“God. How is she?”

“Unconscious. He hit her with something. Maybe the knife handle.”

“Will she be okay?”

Julie shrugged. “You were great, going after the guy that way.”

“I heard you scream,” he said. His voice sounded flat, as if his mind were far away. “I saw you on the ground. And your dad hit him. I didn’t know what was going on. I just knew I had to get him. I didn’t plan to…kill him.” He stared up at Julie with wide, unblinking eyes. “I don’t know. I guess I did want to kill him. I just knew he’d hurt you and I grabbed the hatchet. I feel kind of strange.”

She stepped between his knees and pressed his face against her body. “Don’t feel bad. If you hadn’t done it, I think Dad would’ve.”

“That’s what my dad said. He said the guy was ‘dead meat.’”

“Here it is,” Benny said.

Julie stepped back. She shook open the wrinkled plastic sheet, and pushed her head through its hooded hole. As she snapped the sides under her arms, Flash approached. He squeezed her shoulder. “How’re you doing, young lady?”

“Fine, I guess.”

“What about Karen?”

“She’s beat up some. She’s unconscious.” With Benny standing there, Julie didn’t want to mention the sexual assault. “He messed her up pretty good.”

“Well, Nick messed
him
up pretty good. She’ll be all right, won’t she?”

“I guess so.”

“That’s good to hear. How you holding up, Nicky?”

“Okay,” he muttered.

“I know it’s not easy. I’ve put the nix on a couple of guys in my day. It’s never easy. Nothing to worry about, though. A clear case of self-defense. What I think we’ll do is get some snapshots of the body. We can’t exactly pack it out with us. We’ll wrap it up good and tight, and bury it here. Let the authorities come back for it.”

Julie watched him reach into his clear slicker and pull an Instamatic from the pocket of his jacket. “You kids can wait here. No need for you to watch.”

He walked to the front of the tent where the man had struggled with Julie. The knife was still embedded in the muddy ground. He tugged it free, and went to the dark bundle. With the point of the knife, he swept the poncho aside.

Julie was ready to look away, but the ground where the corpse should have been sprawled was bare.

Benny groaned.

Julie felt a shiver crawl up her spine, squirm on the back of her neck.

Nick muttered, “Holy shit,” and leaped to his feet. He ran toward his father, Julie and Benny following close behind.

Flash was walking slowly toward the shoreline. He stopped at the edge of the water. When they caught up to him, he was standing motionless, arms hanging at his sides, eyes staring out at the black ruffled surface of the lake.

“Dad?”

Flash shook his head. His voice came out in a whisper barely loud enough to hear over the sounds of the wind and rain. “He was dead. I know he was dead.”

With a sudden intake of air, Karen sat up straight. Scott put a hand on her shoulder. She flinched and looked at him with wide, pale eyes. “It’s all right,” he said. She raised a hand to her face, and moaned. Then she lunged forward, scurried out of her sleeping bag, thrust her head through the tent flap, and vomited.

Scott found her water bottle propped up between her boots. He took it to her. She was on her hands and knees, half outside the tent. She’d finished throwing up, and had raised her head. She was staring through the rain. Scott saw four dark figures with flashlights wandering among the rocks and trees to the right.

“What are they—” Karen muttered.

“I don’t know.” He gave the water bottle to her. As she washed out her mouth and took a long drink, Scott gazed at the place where the body had fallen. He saw a rumpled shape on the ground. Good, they’d covered it. He patted the wet back of Karen’s sweatshirt. “Let’s get in where it’s dry.”

She crawled backward and sat down on her sleeping bag. She pulled off her sweatshirt and used it as a towel to dry her hair. Then she lay down. Scott covered her. “Come in with me?” she asked. Her voice was quiet, but pitched high, like that of a child about to cry.

Scott crawled in beside her. He closed the zipper. Rolling against her, he embraced her gently.

“What happened?” she asked in the same high voice.

Scott caressed her back. Her skin was damp and cool near
the shoulders, smooth and dry and warm lower down where the rain hadn’t found her. “You don’t remember?” he asked.

“I remember waiting for you. I didn’t know if you would come. Who did this to me, Scott?”

“I don’t know. A stranger.”

She hugged him tightly. She burrowed her face against the side of his neck.

“You don’t remember any of it?”

“No,” she murmured. “I know what he did, though. I…” She started weeping. Her tears moistened Scott’s neck. She shook with small sobs. “I can…feel what he did.”

“I’m sorry,” Scott whispered through the tightness in his throat. Tears burned in his own eyes. “I’m so sorry, Karen.”

“Are they…looking for him? Outside?”

“No. I don’t know what they’re doing. He didn’t get away.”

Karen stiffened. “Where is he?”

“He’s dead.”

She pressed herself against Scott.

“He attacked Julie, too.”

“Oh, no. Oh, no.”

“She’s okay. She came in when the rain started, and found him with you. She screamed. I came running, and so did Nick. Nick got him with a hatchet.”

“Dear God,” she murmured.

“Yeah. I feel bad about that. Nick’s just a kid. I feel bad that he killed the guy. It should’ve been me. I should’ve done it. Nick beat me to it, that’s all.”

“Will he be in trouble?”

“Some, I guess. There’ll be an inquest, I suppose. Nobody’s gonna be arrested, though, not with something like this.”

“I guess it’s self-defense.”

“Something like that. I just hate it that Nick’s gonna have to live with killing a man.”

For a long time, they lay motionless, holding each other tightly and saying nothing. Scott listened to the patter of
raindrops on the tent, to the quiet sounds of her breathing. He felt her warm breath on his skin. Sometimes, when she blinked, her eyelashes tickled his neck. He wished she would sleep and forget, at least for a time, what had happened to her. But her heart was pounding fast. He could feel it against his chest.

Then she whispered, “He didn’t come in me. I mean, that would’ve been worse.”

“Yeah.”

“I feel so filthy. It’s like I can still feel where he…” Her voice died. Later, she said, “Will you still want me?”

“Of course. I love you.”

“But…will it make a difference?”

“I guess it already has. Knowing I could’ve lost you tonight. He had a knife. I thought I might find you…I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

“Will you make love to me?”

He fondled her hair. He didn’t answer.

“Please. Please, I need you. I can still
feel
him. I want it to be
you
I feel.”

“I might hurt you.”

“I don’t care. You want me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.”

Pushing a hand inside her sweatpants, he stroked the warm smooth skin of her rump. He slid his hand up to the curve of her hip, down to her sleek thigh. She stiffened when he touched her pubic hair. “Don’t stop,” she said. He eased his hand lower, gently cupping her mound, fingers curling in, caressing. She raised a leg slightly, opening herself to him.

She pulled the waistband of Scott’s shorts away from his body and down, freeing his erect penis. He moaned as her fingers gripped him.

Then they were both naked, Scott braced above her on elbows and knees, touching her only with his lips while her hands roamed down his back, stroked his buttocks.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

A hand went away from his rump. Fingers took his penis and guided him lower until he pushed into soft folds. He slid slowly into Karen, deep into her hugging sheath. She sighed. She wrapped her arms around his back, and pulled him tightly against her.

After searching the area around the campsite, they followed Flash to the fireplace. He sat on a stump, rested the bowie knife across his lap, and put his flashlight into a pocket of his slicker. “You kids might as well turn in,” he said. “I’ll stand watch.”

“Do you think he’ll be back?” Nick asked.

“Who the hell knows? I thought he was dead. Maybe he wasn’t, but I know for damn sure he was too far gone to get up and run off. Might’ve dragged himself a few yards, maybe even as far as the lake. Or maybe he
was
dead, and somebody carted him off when we weren’t looking.”

Benny mumbled something.

“What?”

“I said, maybe he’s a zombie.”

“Give us a break,” Julie told him.

“Like the guy in your story who came out of the lake to get his arm.”

“That was just a story,” Flash said. “It didn’t happen.”

“What about the woman?” Julie asked.

“What woman?”

“Yeah!” Nick said. “That’s right.” He looked at Flash. “Remember I told you this morning about a crazy woman who yelled at those girls? They ran into her right here, yesterday.”

“The girls said she had a knife like that.” Julie pointed at the weapon on Flash’s lap.

Nick frowned. “They didn’t say anything about a guy.”

“He could’ve been hiding when they were here.”

“I’ve got it,” Benny blurted. “The guy and the woman are the same person! Like that guy in
Psycho
. He dresses up—”

“Then who took the body?” Julie asked.

“The woman took it,” Nick said. He sounded very sure of himself. “She was a friend of his, maybe his wife. She saw what happened to him. Then she waited for her chance, and snuck over and got him.”

“She would have to be an awfully strong woman,” Flash said, “to walk off with that guy’s body.”

“She didn’t. She dragged it over to the lake, and towed it away in the water.”

“I guess that’s possible,” Flash admitted.

Julie’s face suddenly contorted.

“What’s wrong?” Nick asked.

“I just thought of something.” Her wide eyes looked from Nick to Flash. “Those girls—they just saw a woman. And we just saw a man.”

“So?” Flash said.

“What I mean,” Julie continued, “is how do we know there aren’t
more
people here? Maybe another man. Maybe a whole bunch.”

Flash stared at her. “Damn, I wish you hadn’t said that.”

“It’s possible,” Nick said.

Benny started looking around, searching the darkness through his dripping glasses.

“That’s all the more reason we’d better keep watch. Even if it’s just a woman, we don’t know but that she’ll try to get back at us. The rest of you go on and hit the sack.”

“I’ll stay up with you,” Nick said.

Flash considered insisting that the boy turn in, but he liked the idea of having company.

“I wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway, and if something does happen”—Nick shrugged—“it’d be better if there’s two of us.”

“I guess you’re right. Okay.”

The hatchet swinging at his side, Nick walked Julie and Benny to their tent. Benny crawled inside. Julie faced Nick, put her arms around him, and kissed him. The kiss was not brief. Flash felt he shouldn’t be staring, so he went over to the poncho he’d used to cover the body. Pools of water had
formed on its rumpled plastic. He picked it up and flapped it, shaking off as much water as he could. When he turned around, Julie was gone, and Nick was walking toward him. “This’ll help keep us dry. We’ll sit back to back so we’ve got a three-hundred-sixty-degree view.”

They moved two stumps together, sat down, and draped the poncho over their heads. The rain made loud, hollow sounds as it struck the plastic. Flash stared through the downpour, moving his gaze slowly over the black lake, the dim pale rocks along the shoreline, the place where the body had fallen, the rocks and trees beyond the border of the clearing, Karen’s tent, the pines close behind it, the gap between it and the next tent. Awfully dark behind the tents. A lot of trees. A small rocky rise farther back. Plenty of cover for someone sneaking in. Someone with a knife….

“I’ll check around,” Flash said. He left the sheltering poncho. With the knife in one hand and his flashlight in the other, he walked to the far side of Karen’s tent. He stepped behind it, being careful not to trip over the guy line. He shined his light on the blue fabric long enough to see that it hadn’t been rent. Then he swept the beam across the pines, the bushes, the head-high clump of broken granite. The light threw squirming shadows that sent a chill up his back, but he saw no one. He moved on. Behind the next tent, a sudden voice made him jump.

“Who’s there?” Julie asked.

“It’s me.”

“Something wrong?”

“No. Just checking around.”

The tent after that was his. He knew it was deserted but he flashed his light across its rear, just in case. It looked all right. He stepped to the last tent. “Just me,” he said quietly, in case Alice or the girls should be worried. There was no response. They must be asleep, he thought, but he felt a stab of fear. He put his light on the tent. The red fabric, shiny with running water, was intact.

He made a last check of the trees and rocks behind the
tent, then hurried around to the front. The flaps were zipped shut. He opened them. Ducking low, he swept his light over the three crowded, motionless shapes. They looked okay. He shut the zipper, and walked toward Nick.

“Is everything all right?”

“So far. We’d better check once in a while, though. We’re awfully vulnerable back there.” He sat on the stump with his back to Nick, and pulled the poncho forward to shield him.

For a long time, Flash stared into the darkness. His eyelids grew heavy. His mind drifted. He imagined he was driving through the rain, fighting hard to stay awake. Alice cried out, “Don’t hit him!” and there was a one-armed man staggering up the road, pale in the headlights, a hatchet embedded in his chest. Flash shot his foot at the brake pedal. The heel of his boot skidded on the wet ground and he snapped awake as he started to fall. He caught himself. He wondered how long he’d been out.

Twisting around, he saw that the stump behind him was deserted. He spotted Nick in back of the tents, the flashlight beam sweeping over the rocks and trees.

“Everything shipshape?” Flash asked when the boy returned.

“No problem.” Nick sat down and covered his head. “Maybe she won’t try anything.”

“Sure hope not. We’ve gotta stay on our toes, though.” The warning was more to himself than to his son. He was ashamed of falling asleep. He wouldn’t let it happen again.

When he felt himself becoming groggy, he went into his tent for cigars. He returned to the seat, unwrapped a cigar, and clamped it between his teeth. He pulled the poncho forward enough to shield the cigar from the rain. To save his night vision, he shut his eyes when he struck the match. Then there was only the soft red glow of his cigar. Flash smoked slowly. When only a hot, bitter stub remained, he tossed it down and crushed it under his boot. “Still with us?” he asked Nick.

“I’m awake.”

“I’ll make the rounds.”

He stood up, and stretched his stiff back. His light probed the darkness ahead of him. A shape lurched from behind one of the pines, and his heart seemed to jump. Nothing but a shadow. He satisfied himself that no one lurked among the trees or crouched in the tumble of rocks, then turned his beam to the back of the tent.

For an instant, he thought the two-foot vertical slash was another trick of light—nothing more than a shadow. Crouching, he set the knife by his foot and touched the slit. It parted, and his fingers slid in.

He muttered, “Jesus.”

Shoving the flashlight through the gap, he tugged the fabric wide. It split more. He dropped to his knees and peered inside.

Scott squinted up at him. He looked alarmed. His forehead was smeared with blood.

“It’s me,” Flash said.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Karen, beside Scott in the sleeping bag, raised her head. She squeezed her eyes shut when the light hit her. The left side of her face was swollen and discolored. So was her mouth and chin. A speck of fresh blood glistened above one eyebrow.

“Flash?” Scott said.

“Someone was here. I’ve gotta…” He shoved himself away from the tent, staggered backward, and caught his balance. “Nick!” he yelled. “Check Julie!” He rushed past Julie’s tent, glimpsing its gashed fabric. His own was the same. He fell to his knees at the rear of the last tent, rammed his flashlight through the split, and yanked a wide opening. Alice lurched upright.

“It’s me.”

Her forehead was bloody.

“What’s going—”

“See if the girls are okay.”

Rose was already lifting her head. She blinked into the light. There was blood on her right cheekbone.

Alice shook Heather awake. The girl was buried in her sleeping bag. As she scooted forward, Flash saw a small patch of blood at the top of her head.