Flesh Gothic by Edward Lee (45 page)

"Clements didn't miss by much," Westmore said.

"Belarius protects those who bow down. to him." Mack
grinned. "Tonight's a very special night."

Debbie sat wide-eyed on the bed, with someone else beside her.

"Don't think about trying to get away, sweetheart,"
Vivica Hildreth said. "We won't hurt you, but the same
doesn't go for your friend, Mr. Westmore."

Diamonds glittered around the rich woman's neck, in the
V of her Burberry raincoat. She also wore the funky gemstudded flipflops she'd been wearing the day he'd met her in
her penthouse. "It's good to see you, Mr. Westmore. You've
done a fine job protecting our prize."

"Debbie?" Then Westmore said the most stupid thing.
"You're gonna have to kill me to take her."

Mack and Vivica laughed.

"It all worked out perfectly." Vivica's eyes glittered with
the diamonds. "And in your own way, you helped quite a
bit."

"We owe you one," Mack said, still grinning.

"And so does our Lord ... "

Westmore sighed. "How did you find me? I spent cash, I
never used a credit card, and I've only stayed at fleabags
where you don't have to show ID to check in. There's no
money trail; we've been moving all over the country like
this for nine months."

"How did we find you?" Vivica repeated the question.
Her smile shot to Mack. "Show him."

Mack opened the front door and said, "Come in" to
someone. A frail figure in a dark rain jacket entered. At first
Westmore didn't even know who it was.

"Cathleen7"

Hollow eyes looked back at him. She looked skeletal
now, the once bright-blonde hair lank and dulled by streaks
of gray.

"What happened to you, for God's sake?"

"Oh, we signed her up with Uncle Smack," Mack answered. He dragged one of her coat sleeves up, revealing
ugly clusters of needlemarks. "We control the bitch now."

Cathleen glanced up at the comment, disdain in her lusterless eyes.

"In fact," Mack continued. "It's almost time for her to
take another bang. You can watch, Westmore."

"She's quite an addictive personality," Vivica offered.
"Addiction suits her. It's heroin in place of sex now. She's
proven quite useful since she's been under our thumb." .

"My God, Cathleen," Westmore almost moaned. "How
could you let them do this to you?"

"I'm sorry," Cathleen whispered, her head bowed in
shame.

"She tipped over quick," Mack said. "It was a cinch. And
she's a great piece of ass, too. You should've snagged some
when you were at the mansion."

Another hate-filled glance upward from Cathleen.

"But you still haven't answered my question," Westmore
reminded. "How did you find Debbie and me?"

"Cathleen's famous for her spoon-bending tricks, but to
us her other talents were far more applicable," Vivica said.

Westmore smirked. "I don't get it."

"She's not just a medium, Mr. Westmore. You know that.
And she's not just a telekinetic and a crystal-gazer, either."

"She's a diviner, you asshole," Mack clarified. "She can
find things with her mind."

V vica daintily crossed her legs, adding, "The heroin's killed
what remained of her telekinetic and medium powers. But
Cathleen can still see the future. We simply made her tell us
where you'd be today" The woman stroked Debbie's hair in a
way that was almost maternal. "And tonight we take our precious Debbie back, for the miracle that she and Belarius will
bestow upon us." The elegant face leveled on Westmore. "It's
too bad that you won't be alive to witness the birth of our
Lord's son. But you'll go down in history, Mr. Westmore, as
the chaperon of Hell's first mother, an acolyte of Belarius and
the steward of the first child to ever be conceived in the abyss."

Westmore only stared.

"We knew you were here several days ago," Vivica continued. "Didn't you think it was odd that no one else is occupying this motel?"

"I didn't really notice."

"We booked every room here, except yours."

,.W I.

"Nobody to hear the shots when I blow your ass away,
genius," Mack chuckled.

Westmore slumped. What am I gonna do now? The only
thing he could think of was stalling. "Can I at least have a
cigarette?"

"The final request of the condemned man," Vivica
quipped. "Of course."

"But no cigarettes," Mack began, "until after I snag your
piece," and then he reached into Westmore's pocket and removed the small revolver. He placed it on the tacky dresser.
"There. No funny stuff."

Shit. He lit a cigarette, then, and sighed smoke.

But Cathleen was looking right at him.

What? he wondered.

She made the tiniest gesture with her eyes.

Westmore's anticipation ticked like a clock in his gut.
What did Cathleen mean? When he lowered his cigarette to
tap an ash in the glass ashtray-

Holy shit!

-the ashtray flew across the room as if catapulted. Before Mack could comprehend what had happened, the ashtray sailed hard into his face, one rounded glass corner
hitting him square in the eye.

Mack's pistol fell from his hand. Westmore lunged.

"You bitch!" Mack roared. Blood poured down his face
from one eye.

Vivica had leapt up. "Traitorous whore!"

"Debbie!" Westmore yelled as he dived to the floor for
Mack's gun. "Get out of here now!"

Debbie jumped from the bed. Vivica shrieked, was about
to grab her, but in the same instant, Cathleen looked up at
the wall where a large mirror hung over the dresser.

Then the mirror came of the wall and shattered over
Vivica's head. Vivica fell to the floor.

When Westmore grabbed the gun on the carpet-

"000W!"

-Mack stomped on his hand, then kicked it away. Then
they both leapt for it at the same time.

And Mack got there first.

He was on his belly, had his hand on the gun.

"Cathleen!" Westmore pointed to the other gun on the
dresser.

The gun flew off. Oh, so her tekkinesis is dead, huh? Westmore thought. He felt glorious when he caught the gun in
mid-air and fired one shot into Mack's back with an earsplitting bang.

Mack collapsed again. "Piece of shhhhit," he managed to
voice. "You don't shoot a man in the back."

Westmore shot him in the back again-

BANG!

-and again.

BANG!

A final shot blew out the back of Mack's skull.

Then Westmore thought: Debbie ...

He gave the gun to Cathleen. "Watch Vivica! I'm gonna
go get Debbie."

The whites of her eyes were blood-red now from her
telekinetic outburst. She feebly grabbed Westmore's wrist.
"You ... won't make it .. "

Westmore tore himself away and ran out of the motel.

Rain pelted him. Where is she? The roar of highway traffic on the wet road deafened him. And that's when he saw
her, drenched.

Standing right at the edge of the highway.

"Debbie! Don't!"

She turned to look back at him. Her eyes were afraid
now, this close to the event.

"Please! Don't!" Westmore shouted again through the rain.

She stood limp, unconsciously bringing a hand to her
belly. "I have to. Either way, I could never live with myself."

"Have it! Then I'll kill it!"

The rain turned her hair into a black mop. She shook her
head. "I couldn't live with that, either."

The words exploded from Westmore's throat. "IT'S
NOT A BABY!"

Debbie smiled meekly, turned, and stepped into the road,
whereupon an eighteen-wheeler full of brand-new cars
plowed into her at once. There was no time for the driver to
even hit his horn.

Westmore turned away after a glimpse of Deborah Rodenbaugh's body being fed through the massive rear tires.

I guess that's what she really wanted all along, he thought, coming back inside. Cathleen didn't have to ask. She gave him
the gun back, Vivica still collapsed in the corner.

"It's over," he said.

Cathleen hesitated. "Did you ... see it?"

"No."

Westmore picked up the bloody ashtray, then lit another
cigarette. "Let's go home," he said, exhausted.

Cathleen had tears in her eyes. "I'm all fucked up, Westmore. I don't think I can make it."

"Bullshit. If you can throw ashtrays across the room with
your mind, you can quit drugs. I'll take care of you."

Cathleen offered a ghost of a smile.

"But what do we do with her?" he said.

Vivica was just coming to in the comer. Her eyes
burned, but the rest of her face remained composed. "You
think you've won but you haven't."

"I'd really like to kill you," Westmore said. "You're an
evil person. You're a murderer and a cold, calculating
bitch."

"I, like my husband, am an unwavering servant of Belar ius, Mr. Westmore. And you haven't won this battle. Mack
and Karen weren't my only attendants. I have many."

Westmore was so tired. "What are you talking about?"but then he caught himself-"no, wait a minute. I don't
even care what you're talking about," and then he raised the
pistol and put a bullet into Vivica's belly.

Westmore and Cathleen both jumped at the shot.

Vivica doubled over a moment but then managed to look
up, an inexplicable smile on her face. She just shook her
head, grinning at him. "I will live forever in the temple of
my Lord," she choked out.

"No. You're gonna die, in a shitty little Seattle motel-"
Westmore fired another bullet into her belly. "Oh my gosh!
I sure hope the neighbors don't call the police!"

Even now, though, she somehow maintained her smile,
bloody as it was. "Belarius ... take me home ..."

"One last thing," Westmore complained. He glared at
Vivica's feet. "Those flipflops look asinine ... but I'll bet
the diamonds are worth a bundle to a jeweler."

A final shot put a hole in Vivica's forehead.

Westmore removed the flipflops, then pried the gems off
their straps. He took Vivica's necklace, rings, and purse, and
Mack's wallet.

Cathleen looked shocked. "I didn't think you had it in
you.

"I don't. I'm just really tired of all this, and I want to go
home." He helped her up. "Come on, let's go to the Greyhound station."

Leaving the bodies wouldn't be a problem. He hadn't had
to show ID checking in. There was plenty of cash in
Vivica's purse, plus credit cards, plus more cash in Vivica's
rental car outside.

Minutes later, he and Cathleen were driving off in the
rain.

The wipers thumped rhythmically across the windshield.
Cathleen leaned her head against Westmore's shoulder as he
drove.

"She was right about one thing," Cathleen murmured.

"What's that?"

"We didn't really win. And she does have other people in
her circle. The rich always do. They're all at the mansion
right now."

Westmore gave her a confused stare in the dashlight. "What
do you mean?"

She let out a long, frustrated breath. "Debbie Rodenbaugh was their ideal choice, the one Hildreth groomed for
the rite. But they also had a sort of contingency plan ..."

All the lights had been shut off, instead the mansion glowed
darkly in candlelight.

And Debbie Rodenbaugh wasn't the only virgin who'd
entered the Rive nine months ago on April 3rd.

The midwives and other attendants gathered closely
round the great four-poster bed that had been brought
down into the Scarlet Room. Before them, Faye Mullins
began to convulse in the initial throes of childbirth-

If one could even call what was about to come out of her
a child.

THE DELUGE

MARK MORRIS

It came from nowhere. The only warning was the endless
rumbling of a growing earthquake. Then the water
came--gashing, rushing water, covering everything.
Destroying everything. When it stopped, all that was left
was the gentle lapping of waves against the few
remaining buildings rising above the surface of the sea.

Will the isolated survivors be able to rebuild their lives,
their civilization, when nearly all they knew has been
wiped out? It seems hopeless. But what lurks beneath the
swirling water, waiting to emerge, is far worse. When the
floodwaters finally recede, the true horror will be
revealed.

ISBN 13: 978-0-8439-5893-5