Greenmantle (36 page)

Talk to Tony, she told herself. Maybe even to Lewis, though she’d have to be careful with what she said to him. And what about her mom? What should she tell her? Jeez, it was all so confusing.

Something disturbed her thoughts then. It was a sound—not Tommy’s piping—but it sent a similar shiver up her spine. Moving from the bed to the window, she opened it and leaned close to the screen. She could her it more clearly now. It was the pack. Hunting. Still chasing the stag, she supposed. But the sound grew closer and closer, and as she watched they came out of the forest, dark shapes on the lawn, now dogs, now hooded monks. She wanted to draw back from the window, but their gazes locked on hers, holding her in place with the sheer force of their wills.

If they catch our scent here
, she remembered Mally saying in that other place,
they’ll think we’re from here
…
the dark man set them on the trail of any mystery, you see. We can’t escape them as easily as the stag
….

Oh, God. Was that why they were out there now? Did they think she was another loose bit of mystery in the shape of a teenager?

Uneasily, she watched them moving back and forth at the edge of the trees. Call Tony, she told herself. Though what was he going to do against things like these? Shoot them? She remembered the men trying to shoot the stag a few nights ago. They hadn’t had much luck. Why should these creatures be any different?

She opened her mouth to call to Tony anyway, but her throat was so tight that the sound only came out as a squeak. She swallowed drily, went to try again, but then saw the pack slip back into the forest, one by one. When the last of them was gone, the spell holding her in place was gone. She closed the window quickly and lay down on the bed, all her muscles feeling like jelly.

If the stag were set free, what would happen to the Hunt? God, never mind that. If the pack was really after her, what was she going to do? Lying on her back, she stared up at the dark ceiling and wished that the world would slow down. This is what happens when you think an adventure would be fun. You forget about the scary parts, but by then it’s too late. You’re stuck right smack dab in the middle of it.

She didn’t think she’d sleep, not wound up as she was, but as she started planning how she’d try to find Mally tomorrow, her eyelids began to droop and she fell asleep right in the middle of a thought.

* * *

Frankie didn’t find sleep as easily. The shakes hit her soon after she lay down and nothing seemed to ease them. She grabbed a fistful of sheet with each hand and twisted and turned and then the cramps started. No matter how she lay, she couldn’t alleviate them. They were like menstrual pains, only far more severe. The muscles of her abdomen seemed to knot in a series of muscle spasms that left her weak and teary-eyed from the pain. This was the second time they’d hit tonight.

The first time had been when Sherry had taken her upstairs at her own house and was helping her from the shower. If she’d been alone, she would have collapsed right there in the bathtub, but Sherry had seen the problem immediately and helped her into the bedroom and onto the bed.

“Do you have any Valium?” she’d asked Frankie. “Any kind of muscle relaxant at all?”

Mutely, Frankie had shaken her head.

“Okay. Just lie still. Your body’s having a reaction to what you went through. Sometimes it takes a little while to hit, but nobody gets off clean. Try to straighten your legs. That’s right. Now lie still. Don’t breathe too quickly—you’re going to hyperventilate. Just take it a breath at a time. In. Hold it. Okay, now let it out. Hang on. Now in again…”

The pain had eased after a while, and as Frankie followed those instructions now, the new knots began to slowly unravel. These cramps were longer in leaving, but they’d been far more severe. She wondered if she should ask Tony if he had any Valium, but didn’t dare get up. What if she collapsed at the top of the stairs and fell right down them? Or…if she stumbled at all…she couldn’t bear the thought of him helping her up, of him touching her. It wasn’t Tony personally. She couldn’t stand the idea of any man touching her right now.

In and out. She went back to the slow breathing as her panic fed new torment to her abdomen. God, why did her body have to be so weak? Why couldn’t she step out of this…this memory? For that was what it was. She felt unclean—even after two showers, one at home earlier, another here before she went to bed. But no matter how hard she had scrubbed, she still felt soiled. In. Hold it. Let it out. Wait a moment. In.

What if this feeling never went away?

Stop it, she told herself. In. Hold it. Out.

She was going to pull out of this. She was going to rise above Earl and this goddamn rapist. That’s why she’d moved back to Lanark. Not to find someone new to lean on, whether it was Tony, some other man, or even Ali. She was here to stand on her own two feet and nobody was going to stop her. In. Hold it. Let it out. It was hard to maintain the slow breathing as her anger grew, and finally she just let it wash through her. The cramps didn’t get worse. Instead, the anger seemed to clean her. If only she weren’t so goddamned useless!

No, she told herself. There was a big difference between leaning helplessly on someone and letting someone be a friend, helping out like a friend would. That’s what Tony was doing. Being a friend to both her and Ali. Like she had been a friend to Joy Goldman. That wasn’t giving up control to someone else. That was just doing what everybody was here on this earth to do. Not just looking out for number one, but doing what they could to leave the world a better place than it was when they came.

God, that was such a sixties ideology, she thought. But then she was a child of the sixties. Those years had shaped her, leaving a far more lasting impression than the subsequent decade and a half. So she had to follow it. She had to go on. Deal with Earl, deal with the bastard who’d attacked her, but then go on. Just because they were dead to what was around them, didn’t mean they were going to leave her feeling the same. She wouldn’t let them win.

But she couldn’t help wondering, as she looked around the shadowed corners of this strange room, what that man in the pickup was doing right now. What kind of thoughts were going through
his
head? How could he just go out and do what he did to someone he didn’t even know? Or had he driven by her house, seen her working out in the yard perhaps? Or spotted her in Perth or Lanark and followed her home one day to see where she lived? What hole did people like that crawl out of?

She got up as the last of her cramps eased and went to look out the window. I’m not going to let you win, you bastard, she thought into the night. Not you in your pickup and not Earl. This is it. I’ve run as far as I’m going to run. The next time you come for me, remember that. Because if hurting you is what it’s going to take to leave the world a better place, then that’s what I’m going to do. Believe it.

She felt strong for the first time in days. Just standing there, the floor cool under her bare feet, her arms wrapped around her flannel-clad body, she felt as though she really
could
deal with things.

She thought about the walk up from her house, the sudden violence, a man dying, Tom Bannon hurt, the guns… Surprisingly, she wasn’t disturbed by that aspect of what she’d gone through. Maybe it was because she’d still been in a state of semi-shock. It had all happened around her with a certain blur.

All she could think of was that in the morning she was going to ask Tony for one of those handguns. She was going to ask him for it and get him to show her how to use it. How to take it apart and put it back together. How to do whatever it was you did to things like that to keep them in good working order.

When she finally turned from the window and climbed back into bed, she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

18

“Hey, don’t take it so bad,” Lisa said as she pulled out onto the highway. “It’s not like you had an investment in the guy or anything.”

Sherry nodded. “I know. But it still pisses me off. I should have gone with my gut feeling when I first saw him. The guy’s a worm.”

“Ah, but a poor hurt worm,” Lisa said. “That’s the trouble with you, Sherry. You’re a sucker for anything that’s feeling a little pain.”

“I should have become a vet then. At least animals don’t turn around and burn you.”

“I suppose. Frankie seemed pretty nice, though—don’t you think? What pisses
me
off is what she had to go through. But that guy that came to pick her up—now he was something else.”

“Don’t you ever think of anything else, Lisa?”

“Once in a while—but I’m working on cutting it out. You want to light up a joint?”

“Sure.”

Lisa laughed suddenly. “Christ, I’d like to see little Howie’s face when he finds out he’s got to walk back to wherever it is that he came from.”

Sherry smiled. “Let’s hope he’s got a long way to go.”

By the time they got back to Steve’s cottage, the joint had done its trick and they were both feeling better. The lights were on inside, but except for Steve, no one else was around.

“Christ!” Steve said when they came in. “Where the hell’ve you been?”

The two women looked at each other, then back at him.

“What’s your problem?” Lisa asked.

“What’s my problem? I’ll tell you what’s my problem. Earl Shaw’s called three times looking for his little buddy—
that’s
my problem. What happened to him?”

“He wanted to go for a drive,” Lisa said. “And then once we got to where we were going, he wanted to stay there. What difference does it make?”

“Look. You don’t know Earl. The fucker’s insane. He left his buddy here and now he wants him back. When he finds out that you’ve dumped him somewhere, there’s going to be hell to pay.”

“Come on, Steve,” Sherry said. “What’s he going to do—sue us? If he tries to get tough, just sic a couple of your biker friends on him.”

Steve shook his head. “This guy kills people.”

Sherry blanched. Lisa patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Sherry. I’ll talk to him. Did he leave you a number, Steve?”

“It’s by the phone. Listen, Lisa. Don’t expect any favors from him just because you balled him last night.”

Lisa gave him a withering look as she went to use the phone.

* * *

Lance took the first corner past the Treasure house in a skidding slide, his rear tires spitting dirt and gravel. He almost lost the pickup right then and there, but the sound of the engine’s roar and the wheels bouncing in the potholes, the lack of shocks that made the whole truck rattle, it all served to bring him back to his senses. He slowed down a little but pointed the pickup on down the road. He’d really done it now. Christ, that woman would have the police on him….

He couldn’t face that. Couldn’t face the idea of being booked, of the time in court, but most of all he couldn’t face Brenda. What could he tell her? That was the hardest thing. Because he didn’t regret the deed itself. That was something he’d always imagined doing, just grabbing some good-looking high-class woman and tearing into her. Yessir. But he’d never had the balls to actually do it—not until that goddamn music egged him on. And it had felt good, too.

For once he’d been in control. If he’d had the time, that woman would have done anything he told her to, just to keep on his good side. Yes
sir
. A moment like that balanced against all the bowing and scraping for welfare checks. It didn’t make things better. It didn’t ease the pain and confusion of the bank taking his house and land and then renting the suckers back to him. Talk about a kick in the balls. It didn’t make the little bit of money stretch any further. Didn’t make damn near begging for make-work feel any better. But goddamn, for one moment there he’d really been in charge. And that had been great—though it would have been even better if he hadn’t got caught.

How long would it take for the police to get out to her place, listen to her story, then come to get him? He slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road. Christ, what was he going to tell Brenda? She’d stuck by him through a lot of shit—a hell of a lot more “for worse” than “for better.” But she wouldn’t stand by him on this.

He closed his eyes, but all he could see against his eyelids was the woman’s frightened face, the white of her flesh in the moonlight as he tore at her clothing. Buddy Treasure’s little girl, all grown up and his for the taking. If only that other car hadn’t shown up.

Christ on crutches. But if he was going to pay for it anyway… He was almost tempted to go back and see if those people were gone, maybe finish the job if the police weren’t there guarding her. If they hadn’t taken her away. But what if she hadn’t called them? Hell, what if she didn’t know who he was? Just because he knew her didn’t mean she’d remember him. It had been years since her mother ran off with her. Why the hell should she remember Lance Maxwell? She could be just lying there alone in her house right now, thinking it was over.

He shook his head, trying to get it to clear. Christ, but it ached. It was just filling up with a kaleidoscope of images of the woman and him. Riding her wouldn’t be like doing it with Brenda. Hell, no. This one was young, smooth like a doe, and he could be her buck deer, yessir.