Authors: Richard Laymon
Fiends SSC (10 page)
‘So, it’s
his
blood?
his
blood?
‘Mine. But I’m all right.’
He came toward her, arms spread out to hug her. His blood would get all over her. But she didn’t mind. She was naked, too. She could simply take a shower. So she opened her arms for him.
Instead of stepping into her arms, he moved a hand up the back of her leg.
Which seemed an odd trick, since he was in front of her.
His fingers delved into the crevice of her rump.
Marty suddenly woke up and felt a hand back there. She flinched rigid. A finger thrust at her anus.
‘Bastard!’ she yelled.
Willy laughed.
Marty swung an arm down behind her, grabbed Willy by the wrist and jerked his hand away. Still clutching it, she flopped onto her back. Willy was twisted sideways in the driver’s seat, watching her over his shoulder.
‘Let go,’ he said.
Clutching his arm with both hands, she tugged it down and backward.
Willy cried out and seemed to rise higher in his seat.
‘Fucking bitch! I’ll kill you.' Then he suddenly turned his head forward and yelled, ‘SHIT!’
The brakes shrieked.
Marty flew forward and let go of his arm.
The car jerked, throwing her off the seat. She landed on the narrow floor. As she tried to get up, a whining skid sent her sprawling.
Somewhere, a horn blasted. A cry of brakes surged through the night.
But not from Willy’s car.
Willy’s car.
Marty braced herself for the impact.
It didn’t come.
Silence came instead.
The car stopped.
She took deep breaths, trying to calm down.
Nearby, two doors slammed. Then boots scuffled across the asphalt.
Marty thought about getting up from the floor.
But then the footsteps halted near Willy’s side of the car and a man said, ‘Look what we got here! Got a babe here, butt-naked.’ He sounded excited.
‘Sure as hell,’ said a second voice, also male. It came from the passenger side of the car. ‘Hey, honey,’ it said. ‘Honey, you all right there?’
She didn’t move, didn’t say a word.
‘I think she’s out of it, Stu.’
‘So’s this guy.’
‘How come? We didn’t hit ’em.’
‘Reckon they’re stoned.’
‘Yeah, bet that’s it.’
‘Damn near got us killed, fuckin’ drug fiends.’
‘Let’s fix ’em.’
‘Fuckers damn near killed us, we oughta fix ’em good.’
The door at Marty’s feet opened. Rough hands grabbed her ankles and started dragging her out.
She tried to kick free.
Still dragging her, the man called to his friend, ‘Hey, this one’s awake!’
‘Good deal.’
‘Come on over here and gimme a hand.’
He dragged her the rest of the way out of the car. As she fell to the pavement, a blast slammed through the warm night air.
He let go of Marty and called, ‘Stu!’
Pushing herself up to her hands and knees, Marty saw her man start backing away fast, holding out his hands. He was a bald, skinny guy, maybe forty years old, and didn’t wear a shirt. He made little whimpery sounds as he backed up.
The next shot from Willy’s gun punched a hole in the middle of his chest.
25
Roger opened his eyes. Apparently, he’d dozed off. He rolled onto his side. Tina smiled at him. She looked very fresh and young in the mellow lamplight. Her body was a curved mound under the sheet. Her upthrust shoulder was bare. The fine, downy hair on her arms was golden.
‘Did you like it?’ she asked.
Roger smiled. ‘Did I like what?’
‘Remember?’
At the touch of her fingers, he squirmed and sighed. ‘It’s coming back to me,’ he said.
‘Was I good?' Tina asked.
‘Ah, yes. As good as good can be.’
‘Be serious.’
‘Serious?’
She took away her caressing hand. She snuggled against Roger and pushed her forehead against his chest. ‘Be very serious,’ she said. She sounded as if she might start crying. Roger held her gently. ‘Was I good really?’ she asked again.
‘You were fine.’
‘Only fine?’
‘You were fantastic. You
are
fantastic.’
are
fantastic.’
‘Really? Don’t kid me. Tell me really.’
‘Fantastic. Absolutely.’
‘How many women have you been with?’ she asked, her breath tickling his chest.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Tell me,’ she said. Her fingernails lightly scratched his hip.
‘Oh, six or seven. Seven, I guess. You’re number seven.’
‘Now, tell me the truth.’ Her fingernails stopped moving. Her hand flattened, warm on his skin. ‘How was I? Compared to the others.’
‘The best.’
‘The very best?’
‘Far and away the best. Easily. No comparison.’
‘Cross your heart?’ Her lips brushed the skin of his chest.
‘Cross my heart and hope to die.’
Roger felt her hand move down from his hip. He moaned as her fingers curled around his penis.
‘You sure I’m the best?’ she asked.
‘No doubt about it.’
For a long time, she said nothing. Her fingers continued to hold him. He grew harder and bigger. After a while, she said, ‘There’s nothing wrong with me?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Then why?’ Her hand went away.
‘Why what?’
She didn’t answer. She rolled face down and pressed the pillow over her head.
Hearing her muffled sobs, Roger put a hand on her back.
26
Marty didn’t know, until she woke up, that she had passed out after the shooting.
Even before opening her eyes, she knew that she was not in Willy’s car. This car’s engine was quiet. Its air was cool. Too cool. She put a hand on her thigh and felt goosebumps. She moved her feet. The shorts were down around her ankles.
Opening her eyes, she saw the jersey wadded on the seat between her and Willy. She reached for it. Willy’s hand came down on hers. He grinned at her. She jerked her hand away, taking the jersey. As fast as she could, she put it on and pulled up the shorts.
Willy laughed.
Marty said nothing. She sat motionless, arms folded across her chest, and wondered if Willy had raped her while she’d been passed out.
No, she didn’t think so.
‘Real class, huh?’ he asked.
‘What?’
‘The car. Real class. Air-conditioning, the works.’
‘How long was I out?’
‘Who knows? I didn’t time you. Did you see the way I capped those motherfuckers?’
‘I saw enough.’
‘What a kick.’
She closed her eyes and rubbed her face with both hands.
‘Too bad you weren’t awake when I moved your Danny boy.’
‘Convenient,’ she muttered into her hands.
‘Huh?’
‘I just happened to be unconscious when you changed cars.’
He laughed. ‘Not my fault you faint at the sight of a little blood. What, you worried I didn’t put Danny boy in our trunk?’
‘I don’t think he was ever in
any
trunk.’
any
trunk.’
‘Think whatever you want. He’s in the trunk.’
‘Then stop and show me.’
‘Get fucked.’
‘You killed him, didn’t you?’
‘If you say so. See if those bozos got any maps in the glove compartment, huh? I’ll show you where we’re going.’
‘I don’t care.’
‘Sure you do.’ He punched her in the arm. ‘Open it.’
She opened the glove compartment.
‘What’s in there?’
‘Some maps, gas receipts, Kleenex.’
And a fifth of Kentucky bourbon that she decided not to mention.
‘What about a Wisconsin map?’
She pulled out the stack of maps, found the Wisconsin map and put the others away.
‘Open it up.’
She spread the map open.
‘Okay. See a town called Marshall up to the left?’
‘I can’t see anything.’
Willy turned on the ceiling light. It cast a dim yellow glow onto the map.
‘Look near the top. A couple of inches from the top. Marshall.’
‘I don’t see any Marshall. There’s a Gribsby here.’
‘Down the road from Gribsby.’
‘Mawkeetaw?’
‘Down a bit more. Marshall. See it?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Okay. Now, there’s a lake over a bit to the right.’
‘Cricket?’
‘That’s her. See a little blue dot beside Cricket?’
‘No.’
‘A little tiny dot. A speck.’
‘I don’t see anything there.’
‘Well, some maps show it, some don’t. Anyhow, that’s where we’re heading. For the speck.’ He turned off the overhead light. ‘A real nice little lake. More like a pond. And you know the nice thing about it? Nobody ever goes there. Not a single motherfucking soul.’
‘Why not?’ Marty tongued her chipped tooth.
‘Fishing stinks. You can’t ski ’cause there ain’t enough room. And it’s harder than hell to find. There’s only one way in. You gotta take this shitty little dirt road that’s so fucked up you can hardly drive on it. Won’t be easy to find at night.’
‘Am I supposed to be your navigator?’
‘Yep. But we still got a ways to go. You can put it away for a while.’ She folded the map, but did it wrong.
‘Nobody ever teach you how to fold a map?’ Willy asked.
‘My education has been sadly neglected.’
He laughed. ‘Bet you learned a thing or two tonight.’
She dropped the map to the floor, and turned her face to the window. In her mind, she saw the shirtless man get knocked off his feet, a hole between his nipples.
‘Yeah,’ she muttered. ‘I learned a thing or two.’
Suddenly, her stomach twisted.
He’s a murderer.
It changed things.
Before, she had been a victim for Willy to kidnap and rape and brutalize any way he wanted. Bad enough.
Plenty bad enough.
But now, she was a witness to two murders.
He has to kill me.
I’ve gotta get out of here!
What about Dan? If he’s alive in the trunk…
I have to save him.
She took a deep, shaking breath, and said, ‘Thirsty?’
‘Huh?’
She opened the glove compartment and took out the heavy glass bottle of bourbon.
‘Holy shit! Good deal!’
Marty unscrewed the plastic cap, tilted the bottle to her mouth and took two quick swallows.
‘Save some for the fishies!’
She handed the bottle to Willy.
He drank. Then he said, ‘Good stuff.’
‘Sure is,’ Marty agreed. She smiled at him. The bourbon seemed to be burning out the bottom of her stomach.
Willy offered the bottle.
‘Thanks,’ she said, taking it.
‘Just don’t make a pig outa yourself.’
She tilted the bottle up.
The bourbon splashed against her tight lips. None got into her mouth. She lowered the bottle, wiped her lips dry, and handed it back to Willy.
‘Why don’t we listen to some music?’ she suggested, and reached for the radio.
The bottle knocked her hand away. ‘I don’t like music.’
‘It’d be nice and relaxing.’
‘We can relax at the cabin,’ he said, and took a swallow. ‘Just a couple more hours.’
‘Can’t we listen to music?’
‘Music sucks.’
‘Then is it okay if I take a nap?’
‘Sure thing. Wanta take off your clothes again?’
‘No.’
He laughed.
Marty made a show of stretching and yawning. Then she leaned against the passenger door and lifted her legs onto the seat. She wiggled as if trying to find a more comfortable position, and let her bare feet slip out from under her. They touched Willy’s hip. ‘Nother drink?’ he asked.
‘Sure.’ She stretched out her arm, pressing her feet harder against him. She pretended to take a swig.
‘Have more.’
She pretended to swig again. Then she handed the bottle back to Willy, and sighed loudly.
‘Lucky for you my hands are full,’ Willy told her.
Grinning, he took a drink.
Marty curled her toes against the side of his leg. She bent toward him. He gave her the bottle. While she lifted it to her mouth, Willy’s
free hand caressed her legs. She lowered her feet to the floor and scooted a little closer to him. His hand moved up her thigh, but she set down the bottle in its way. Laughing, he took hold of the bottle and picked it up. ‘What’ll you do when it’s empty?’ he asked.
‘I just don’t know,’ she said.
‘You’ll get fucked, that’s what.’
‘Oh, yeah?’ She started to move away from him.
He planted the bottle between his legs and threw an arm across her shoulders, stopping her. She relaxed against him. He lifted his arm off her, retrieved the bottle and drank several large swallows.
He clamped the bottle between his thighs again, and returned his arm to her shoulders.
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