Dark Mountain (22 page)

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Authors: Richard Laymon

BOOK: Dark Mountain
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He accelerated, the thrust of the car shoving her against the seat. Light glared through her window. A horn blasted. She hugged her head. Then the brightness was gone, the noise of the horn fading behind them.

“Scott!”

He didn’t answer. He was hunched over the steering wheel, speeding up the center of the deserted road.

Karen tried to keep her voice calm. “It won’t do Julie any good if we get ourselves killed.”

“Fucking curse.”


It’s on us, too, Scott
.”

Julie flung open the front door. Dropping to a crouch, she snatched up the tire iron. She rushed into the parlor and gave it to Nick. The man was lying facedown now, holding his head and crying softly. “If he tries anything, beat the crap out of him.”

She left Nick kneeling beside the man, and hurried into the alcove. The phone was beeping loudly. She pushed its plungers, lifted the handset off the desk, and got a tone. Quickly, she dialed.

It rang once. “Hello?” Benny’s voice.

“It’s me.”

“Julie! Are you okay?”

“Is Dad there?”

“No. He’s on the way to pick you up. The cops are on the way, too.”

“They know where we are?”

“Yeah.”

“How long ago did Dad leave?”

“I don’t know, five minutes? What happened?”

“Some nut tried to kill us.”

“It’s the curse.”

“Brilliant deduction, Bonzo.” She hung up.

They sped west on Ventura Boulevard, Scott weaving through the traffic. He accelerated to make it through a yellow light, but was forced to stop at the next main intersection because the cars ahead of him blocked the way. He pounded a fist on the steering wheel. “Come on, come on, come on,” he muttered.

Tilting the atlas to catch the light from the streetlamps, Karen drew a finger along the thick line of Ventura. “Avenida del Sol,” she said, “should be two blocks up.”

“I make a left,” he said.

“Yeah. Then it’s a few blocks. We’ll come to a Y. You stay to the left. It’ll run into Vista Terrace.”

“Which way on Vista?”

“Left again. It doesn’t go the other way.”

The traffic began to move. He stayed in the left-hand lane, hissing through clenched teeth, pounding the wheel and muttering about the slowness of the car ahead.

“The police are probably there by now,” Karen said.

“God, I hope so.”

The car sprang out as if escaping, and swung across three lanes of oncoming traffic. The force of the turn shoved Karen against her door. Horns blared. Then they were speeding along Avenida del Sol. The residential road was dark except for a few streetlamps. There were no cars approaching. Scott steered up the center line.

“Don’t let them see the gun,” Karen warned.

“Huh?”

“The cops. If they see you with the gun, they might shoot.”

Julie flinched as a clamor resounded through the house. “I’ll get it,” she said. Pushing against Nick’s shoulder, she rose from her knees and rushed out of the parlor.

In the dim foyer, she grabbed the doorknob. She hesitated. “Who is it?” she called.

“Police officers.”

She opened the door, and let out a sigh of relief at the sight of the two uniformed patrolmen.

“Here’s the Y,” Karen said. “Veer left. We’re almost there.”

He slowed down slightly as the road narrowed, and then Karen saw taillights through the thick bushes to the right. Scott hit the brakes and horn before she yelled. He swerved away, but the car speeding down the driveway slammed into them just ahead of Karen with a deafening crunch of metal. The impact threw her against the door.

Their headlights jarred over a hedge across the road. Then they were crashing through the bushes, skidding down a slope. Karen thrust her hands against the ceiling as the car rolled over. The windshield shattered. The roof quavered. She thought it would cave in but it held as the car slid and wobbled to a stop.

She was upside down, the harness cutting into her shoulder and lap.

Just like before
.

Only now it was Scott, not Frank, hanging unconscious beside her as smoke started spilling from under the hood.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-SEVEN

There were four of them.

They came down the trail from Carver Pass at dusk, walking single file.

Ettie, crouched behind an outcropping near her cave, could see only their vague shapes in the distance. But she knew who they were. She knew why they’d come.

They were the survivors.

They’d come to kill her.

She was pleased there were only four.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-EIGHT

Karen slipped on the loose earth of the footpath, landed on her rump, and skidded. She dug in the heels of her boots to stop herself. The tingling pain of her scraped buttocks brought tears to her eyes. She wiped them away. Nick and Benny took her by the arms and helped her up.

She followed them to the bottom of the path, with Julie staying behind her. They walked along the lakeshore toward the stand of pine where they’d camped that Monday night, but were still a good distance away when Benny sat on the ground.

Karen stopped beside him. She dropped her pack, and kneeled in front of it. A breeze chilled the back of her sweaty blouse as she unstrapped a side pocket and took out Scott’s .45 automatic. She jacked a cartridge into the chamber, switched the safety on, and sat down. She leaned back against her pack, and rested the heavy pistol on the lap of her jeans.

Benny was lying on his back with his knees in the air. Julie was settled against her pack. They were sweaty, gasping for breath. Nick, crouching over his open pack, took out a hatchet. Scott’s hatchet. The sheriff still had Nick’s. He sat down, and took off its leather sheath.

Karen shut her eyes. Her heart was racing and she felt nauseated. Sweat streamed down her face. She wiped it with her bare forearm, and let the shaking arm fall to her lap. Her wristbone hit the pistol, and she whimpered.

“Let’s get moving,” Nick said. His sudden voice made Karen flinch.

“I can’t,” Julie said. “Let’s wait.”

“A little while.”

Karen heard movement. Through half-open eyelids, she watched Julie crawl over to Nick and hold him. He stroked her hair. For a moment, he looked as if he might cry.

He’d done some crying in the station wagon today—no, yesterday. It was all so confused in Karen’s mind, as if she’d been in a daze ever since pulling Scott’s unconscious body from the wreck. That was two nights ago. Last night was Juniper Lake and horrible dreams that kept waking her until Benny crawled into her sleeping bag and they embraced and finally fell asleep in each other’s arms.

When she woke up in the morning, Benny was snug against her and snoring. Julie’s sleeping bag was empty. She was with Nick. She crawled out naked in the frigid morning air, and Karen saw a smear of dried blood on one thigh. As she knelt beside her sleeping bag, she saw Karen watching. The girl glared as if daring Karen to chastise her. “Go back to him,” Karen said. “Stay with him.” The hard look fell away from Julie’s face. Her chin trembled. She nodded, and returned to Nick’s sleeping bag.

Later, no one spoke of the incident. But Karen caught Julie staring at her, from time to time, with a curious look on her face.

“How you doing, Benny?” Nick asked.

“I think I’m gonna die,” he said.

Karen winced. Did he have to mention death?

“We’re all gonna die,” Nick said. “But not to night. It’s someone else’s turn to night.”

“Damn right,” Julie said.

“Karen?”

She nodded, and lifted the pistol off her lap.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s haul ass.”

Haul ass
. He sounded just like Flash. Karen’s throat
tightened, and tears came to her eyes. God, she’d hardly known the man. But he’d seemed like a good fellow. He was Scott’s friend and Nick’s father, and she supposed the tears were for them and for Alice, for Rose and Heather.

She pushed herself up. Her legs trembled under her weight, and her blistered feet burned. As the others stood up, she untucked her blouse. She lifted it, sucked in her belly, and pushed the pistol barrel down the waistband of her jeans. It was hard and cool against her skin.

“We’ll circle this lake,” Nick said. “Then we’ll circle Upper Mesquite.”

“Flashlights,” Karen said.

“Yeah. It’ll be dark in a few mintues.”

“And cold,” Benny added.

They searched through their packs. Benny put on his parka. Karen was shivering, and her own parka seemed too bulky. She left it in her pack, but took out her gray sweatshirt. Turning away from the others, she took off her cold, damp blouse. She wadded it. She used it to wipe the sweat off her face, the back of her neck, her sides. Then she tossed it into the pack, and put the sweatshirt on. It felt soft and warm. It made her think of Scott, the night he’d worn it back to his tent.

If only he were here…

Benny was gaping at her when she turned around. He looked down quickly at his flashlight, switched it on, and shined it on his face to see that it worked.

Karen took out her own flashlight and tested it.

Nick pointed with his hatchet to the left. “We’ll go that way, head around the back side of the lake till we get to the ridge.”

They started to walk, Nick in the lead with Julie close behind him. Karen let Benny go ahead of her. She didn’t want him bringing up the rear; it seemed too vulnerable a position for the boy.

They followed the shoreline back the way they’d come. Where it curved at the northern end, they made their way
up the broken granite blocks of the slope until they were thirty or forty feet above the water. Every step was an agony for Karen—for the others as well, she supposed. But nobody protested.

Probably, they could have just waited at the campsite. But they’d discussed it many times on the way in, and agreed to this. Everyone felt it would be better than waiting for the woman to make a first move. Also, there was a chance they might discover her hiding place, come upon her unawares. It was a slim chance, since the deputies hadn’t been able to find her, but worth a try anyway. They agreed she must have a hiding place somewhere on the slopes above the lakes. They had enough food for four days. If they didn’t find her to night, if she stayed away from them, they would keep searching until the food ran out.

No one thought it would come to that.

If she was still at the lake, she would try for them. “She wants me,” Nick had said. “I’m the one who killed her son. She can’t get me with the curse. She doesn’t have my blood and stuff.”

“She got your dad,” Julie had reminded him, taking his hand.

“That was an accident. He got in the way of it to save Mom and the girls. He would’ve been all right, except…She has to come for me. That’s when we’ll nail her.”

“What if the curse doesn’t end when she’s dead?” Julie asked.

“It has to,” Benny said, and explained that without her psychic power directing it the curse would dissipate.

“What makes you so sure?” Julie asked.

“The book said so.”

“Let’s hope the book’s right,” Karen said.

“Let’s hope she’s still at the lake,” Julie said.

“She will be,” Nick assured them. “She will be. She wants me dead.”

Nick pointed up the slope, stirring Karen from her thoughts. He spoke to Julie. The girl nodded. Sitting on a
boulder, she twisted around to watch him climb. Karen followed Benny across the rocks, and joined her.

“Where’s he going?” Karen asked.

Julie pointed. Some distance above Nick was a dark crevice in the rocks. “He wants to check that out. We’re supposed to wait here.”

They watched Nick make his way higher, leaping from rock to rock, striding up an angled slab, finally reaching the shadowed gap. He shined his flashlight inside, then turned around and shook his head and started down.

Karen lowered herself onto a rock. It felt cool and lumpy through the seat of her jeans, and the pistol dug into her until she leaned back. She braced herself up on her elbows.

The water below, gray in the dim light, was ruffled by the wind. Directly across the lake was the clearing where they’d left their packs. The fireplace, a distance to the left, was intact and surrounded by the stumps and rocks they’d used for seats. Even a pile of firewood remained—wood they had gathered after swimming. She remembered the good, cold feel of the water. Flash whistling at her before she went in. Had the madwoman and her son been watching, spying on them from up here someplace? Maybe if they hadn’t gone swimming, if the man hadn’t seen her and Julie in their suits…Those ifs again. It was pointless to think that way. You can’t go back and change anything, so why worry about it?

If they’d just listened to Benny that night and gone after the woman and taken her pouch…

Nick leaped down and joined them. “Just a crack in the rocks,” he said. “It didn’t go anywhere.”

They started walking again. Soon, the last of the evening light faded out. Under the half-moon, the rocks ahead looked gray and bleak, like a dirty snowfield. A snowfield gouged with black shadows. The shadows, all around, made Karen uneasy. She reached under her sweatshirt and pulled out the automatic.

Benny looked back at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing much.”

“Did you see something?”

“It’s what I don’t see that’s got me worried.”

“I wish Dad was here.”

“So do I.”

“Do you think he’ll be mad when he finds out?”

“No. I think he’ll be very proud. Especially if we do what we came for.”

With a nod, Benny looked forward again. He switched on his flashlight, shined it on Julie’s back, then down to the rocks in front of his feet.

Karen turned her own flashlight on, but its brightness seemed to deepen the dark around her. Following close behind Benny, she shot its beam up the slope, swept it over the rocks, probed the black crevices. Her back felt exposed. She twisted around, but the tunnel of light showed only rocks and fluttering shadows behind her. Nobody there, she thought. Nobody creeping up.


Yeeeh!”
The sharp outcry came from Benny. She sprang forward as the boy ducked and covered his head and a coyote leaping from above slammed him over. He tumbled toward the edge. Karen lunged across the boulder. Her jarring beam showed Benny’s legs kicking high, flipping backward. She flung the flashlight and pistol from her hands. She stretched for him. Her fingertips brushed a cuff of his jeans, and then he was falling. Karen staggered, her momentum thrusting her toward the edge. She teetered there. Her sweatshirt went taut across her chest, and she was tugged to a stop.

Benny dropped to the rocks ten feet below. He cried out as he hit. With a yelp, the coyote raced away.

Julie let go of Karen’s sweatshirt and stepped beside her. “Benny!”

They boy raised his head.

A crouched figure with a hatchet scurried toward him over the moonlit rocks.

“Look out!” Karen yelled.

“It’s just Nick,” Julie said.

As they climbed down, Karen heard Benny whimper, “My arm, my arm.”

Karen knelt beside him. He was gasping, holding his right forearm.

“I think it might be broken,” Nick said.

Karen stroked the boy’s sweaty forehead. “Where else do you hurt?” she asked.

“Everywhere.”

“You took a pretty good fall.”

“I tried to duck, but it—”

Julie said, “Is anything else broken or sprained?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t think so.”

He flinched and sobbed as they sat him up. They carefully removed his parka. Julie shined a light on his arm while Nick rolled his right sleeve up above the elbow. The forearm was swollen and discolored, but the skin wasn’t broken. “We need something to splint it,” Nick said.

“Knives?” Karen suggested.

“Let’s give it a try.”

Julie opened her belt and took off her leather-cased knife. From hilt to tip, it was nearly a foot long.

“That’ll do for one,” Nick said.

Benny had a similar knife.

Karen held them in place, one on each side of the arm, while Nick strapped them tight with Benny’s belt. “I guess that’ll have to do until we find something better.”

“Hope we don’t need those things,” Julie said.

Nick ruffled Benny’s hair. “Now you’re better armed than any of us.”


My gun
,” Karen muttered.

She and Julie climbed up the rocks to look for it. With Nick’s flashlight, she searched the area where she’d let it fall. Her beam swept the gray surfaces, sought out dark corners, dug into fissures. Julie located the lost flashlight. It was broken. They kept on looking.

“It has to be here someplace,” Julie said.

“You’d think so.”

They went over the same area time and again.

“Maybe it’s down there,” Julie said, stepping close to the edge.

“Any luck?” Nick called to her.

“No.”

They climbed down and searched the base of the rock cluster.

Julie glanced at her brother. “You’re not sitting on it, are you?”

“No,” he said.

“I’ll try looking,” Nick said.

Julie handed over her flashlight. She stayed below, while Karen led Nick back up the broken rocks to the place where she had dropped the gun. “Right about here,” she said, standing a yard from the edge.

“Did you throw it, or just let it fall?”

“I just opened my hand so I could grab for Benny.”

“Maybe you kicked it.”

“I might’ve. If I did, it didn’t register.”

She showed him where Julie had found the flashlight. They searched there. They crisscrossed the craggy mound of granite, walking shoulder to shoulder.

“It might’ve gone down one of these cracks,” Nick finally said.

“Wherever it is,” Karen told him, “I don’t think we’re gonna find it. Not to night anyway. Why don’t we come back in the morning when we’ve got some light on the subject?”

“Morning will be too late,” Nick said.

They climbed down, and spent some time searching the area around Benny and Julie.

“Might as well forget it,” Julie said.

Karen took off her belt and made a sling for Benny’s arm. Then they helped the boy to his feet.

“What now?” Julie asked.

“Let’s just get back to our packs,” Nick said. “There’s aspirin in my first-aid kit. Maybe that’ll help Benny’s pain.”

“Build a nice, warm fire,” Julie added.

“And eat,” Benny said. “I’m starving.”

They were near the south end of the lake. Karen, with one of the flashlights, took the lead. Nick followed, supporting Benny. The boy could walk all right, though he winced with each limping step. Julie, carrying the hatchet and the other working flashlight, brought up the rear.

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