The Cellar (17 page)

“ ‘At length, I heard the welcome sound of his slick flesh gliding through the clay. I heard the hiss of his breath. He pushed his snout against my face, moaning and licking.

“ ‘Clenching my hair with his massive jaws, he propelled himself backward, dragging me. The pain of it was welcome to my dazed senses. When finally he released my hair, I found no more walls pressing in upon me. The air tasted fresh. I learned, later, that he had brought me to his underground dwelling, a hollowed-out space only
large enough for him to stand upright and lie down, located just beyond the limit of my property and several feet beneath the earth’s surface. The fresh air came from a concealed opening overhead, and other tunnels that led up the hillside. I learned all this in the morning, however. At the time Xanadu brought me to his dwelling, I was barely conscious, and trembling with chill. In my lover’s embrace, the chill departed. I was wrapped in blissful sleep.

“ ‘He woke me, sometime before dawn. I was much recovered. Xanadu entered my body, and loved me more gently than ever before, though not without an extreme of passion. When we were done, he led me to an opening. From the manner of our parting, I know that he will come to me tonight.

“ ‘I made my way across the dewy grass, alone and naked in the early-morning gray.

“ ‘I spent the morning in solitude, planning. Shortly before noon, my thoughts were interrupted by a young man named Gus, who wished to work for a meal. Firewood required splitting, so I gave him the job. For much of the afternoon, I heard the ring of his sledge. All the while, I planned.

“ ‘It is evening, now. Gus took supper with us, and left. The children sleep. Ethel has not yet retired, but that is no matter. Xanadu waits. I shall allow him up from the cellar, and we will again have full reign of the house.’ ”

“That’s it?” Jud asked.

Donna nodded.

Anytime, now.

In the dim light filtering through the curtain, Roy dressed. He got up and looked at the girls. Their skin seemed very dark against the white of the sheets.

He wanted to start a fire. It would take care of the girls, and whatever evidence he might be leaving behind. A fire would be perfect. But not without a delayed start.

He had no candles.

A cigarette or cigar might work as a delaying device, but he didn’t have one.

Maybe the girl.

Crouching over her small pile of clothes, he lifted the T-shirt. It had no pockets. He picked up the cut-off jeans and searched their pockets. Nothing.

Shit!

He couldn’t just set the room on fire and run:
He had to give himself time. Time to get into Cabin 12, time to get into 9, time to get a good distance away in Donna’s car.

Wait.

Shit, he’d have to burn 9 and 12, too.

Forget it.

Forget the whole thing.

He suddenly smiled. Without a delayed fire ready to set this place ablaze, he wouldn’t have to rush. He could take his time, enjoy himself.

What he’d do, he’d wipe the place clean, make sure he left no prints.

He wandered the rooms with the girl’s T-shirt, rubbing all the surfaces he remembered touching. Somehow, it seemed pointless. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt a hollow ache in his stomach as if something had gone very wrong. Something he’d forgotten about.

He dumped the backpack onto the floor. Along with the ground cloth and sleeping bags, four cans of chili and spaghetti rolled out.

He should’ve eaten. That’s what made the ache.

He rubbed the cans with the T-shirt.

No, it wasn’t just hunger. Something else was wrong.

He rubbed the aluminum tubing of the pack frame.

Shit!

Karen and Bob’s place! He’d never found out, for certain, whether or not it had burned.

That morning, on the radio, they’d only mentioned
the one fire. If Karen and Bob’s place didn’t go up, then the cops would have all the proof they’d need.

Okay, maybe it went up, and he just hadn’t heard. He should still be careful with this place.

Not leave evidence.

Not leave witnesses.

He swept the room with his eyes, wondering if he’d missed anything. When he was satisfied the place was clean, he went into the bathroom and urinated. He came out. Bending down, he raised his cuff and slipped the knife from its sheath.

A single clean slash across the throats would do it. He’d stand back to stay out of the spray.

Knife in hand, he stood.

He took one step toward Joni’s bed and realized she was gone.

Impossible!

Rushing to the bed, he slid his hands across its sheets to be certain his eyes and the darkness hadn’t deceived him. No, the bed was empty. She’d somehow worked the ropes loose.

He glanced down between the beds. No sign of her.

Under the bed?

The doorknob rattled. Roy looked, saw the small girl reaching, pulling. The door flew open for a moment, and shut.

“Oh fuck!” Roy muttered.

He ran to the door, swung it open, and stepped out. He shut it silently. Except for a few lighted
cabin windows, the parking lot was dark. Roy looked to the left, thinking she would head for the office. No sign of her. He glanced to the right. Still nothing. Maybe she’d run around back.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Okay.”

He would just finish off the other one, first.

He tried to twist the knob. It resisted, as if frozen.

Locked out. Keys inside.

Roy drew a deep, shaky breath. He wiped the sweat off his hands, then hurried around the corner of the cabin. Ahead was only darkness. Woods. The night sounds of crickets.

He wanted his flashlight.

He’d left it inside.

Walking quietly, he entered the darkness to find Joni.

The little bitch!

His hand ached, gripping the knife so hard.

He’d rip her! God, he would rip that little bitch! Up one side, down the other.

“Where are you?” he muttered. “Think you can hide from me, little bitch? I know your smell. I’ll sniff you down.”

“That’s it,” Donna said. “Lilly let the beast into the house, so it would kill the children and Ethel.”

“That’s how it looks,” Jud agreed.

“It’s not the way Maggie told it on the tour. Maggie had her barricaded in the bedroom, remember?”

“I think,” Jud said, “that Maggie lies a lot.”

“Do you suppose she lied about Lilly going mad?”

“I doubt it. That’s too easy to check on. We just need to see a local newspaper from the time to verify that. Lilly probably did flip out. If she was really behind the murder of her own children, that could send her over the edge. From the sound of it, she wouldn’t have needed more than a nudge, at that point.”

“And watching Xanadu kill the children gave her the nudge?”

“Likely.”

“I wonder what Xanadu did after she was gone. Do you think he stayed in the house?”

“He might’ve. Or maybe he went off, and continued the way he’d lived before Lilly.”

“But he did come back,” Donna said, “when Maggie and her family moved in. Maybe he was waiting, all that time, for Lilly to return. When he finally saw someone living there, he must’ve thought she’d come back.”

“I don’t know,” Jud said. “I really don’t know what to think about any of this. The diary sure throws a monkey wrench into my theory about the beast. Assuming the diary is authentic. And I think we
have
to assume it’s authentic, at least to the extent that Lilly Thorn wrote it. Nobody else had any reason to tell a story like that.”

“What about Maggie?”

“She kept it locked up. If she’d written it herself, faked it, she would’ve used it somehow: had it published, sold copies on the tour, something. I think she kept it for her own personal…”

A knock on the door silenced Jud. He picked up his automatic. “Ask who it is,” he whispered.

“Who’s there?”

“Mommy?” The girl’s voice was chocked with fear.

“Open it,” Jud said.

As Donna got to her feet, Jud lay down flat in the space between the beds.

He watched her unlock the door and pull it open. Sandy was standing in the darkness—standing on
tiptoes to ease the pain of her pulled hair, tears shiny in her eyes, a six-inch knife blade pressed to her throat.

“Aren’t you glad to see me?” a man asked, and laughed. He pushed Sandy ahead of him into the room, and kicked the door shut.

“Tell your friend to come out,” he said.

“There’s no one.”

“Don’t shit me. Tell him to come out, or I’ll start cutting.”

“She’s
your daughter
, Roy!”

“She’s just another cunt. Tell him.”

“Jud!”

He pushed his pistol under the bed, and slowly stood, hands out to show they were empty.

“Where’s your piece?” the man asked.

“Piece?”

“Everybody’s playing dumb. Cut the fuckin’ dumb show, and tell me where’s your gun.”

“I don’t have a gun.”

“No? Your buddy did.”

“Who?”

“Shit.”

“Who’re you?” Jud asked.

“Okay, knock it off. Both of you, get your hands on top of your heads and interlace your fingers.”

“Donna, who is this guy?”

“My husband,” said Donna, looking confused.

“Jesus, why didn’t you tell me? Look, fella, I didn’t even know she was married. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. You think
you’re
mad, my wife’s gonna
kill me. You aren’t gonna tell her, are you? Why don’t you put down that blade, man? The kid didn’t do nothing. She didn’t know from Adam. We just stuck her on this guy, gave him a couple bucks to babysit while we…you know, had a good time.”

“Get over against the wall, both of you.”

“What’re you gonna do? You’re not gonna…hey, we didn’t even
do
nothing! I didn’t even touch her. Did I touch you, Donna?”

Donna shook her head.

“See?”

“Face the wall.”

“Oh Jesus!”

“That’s good. Now both of you brace yourselves against it. That’s right. Lean. So your weight’s on your hands.”

“Oh sweet Jesus!” Jud muttered. “He’s gonna kill us. He’s gonna kill us!”

“Shut up!” Roy snapped. He made Sandy lie facedown on the floor. “Now don’t move, kid, or I’ll gut your mom.”

“Oh sweet Jesus!” Jud cried.

“You shut up.”

“I didn’t touch her. Just ask her. Donna, did I touch you?”

“Shut up,” Donna said.

“Jesus, everybody’s turning on me!”

“He’s already killed at least two people,” Donna said, “and we’re gonna be next if you don’t shut up.”

“He
killed
somebody?” Jud looked over his shoulder
at the man stepping toward him with a knife. “You really killed somebody?”

“Face front.”

“He killed my sister and her husband.”

“You did?” Jud asked, looking again.

The man’s grin told how much he had enjoyed it.

Jud began to turn, asking, “Why’d you…?”

“Face front!” Roy reached forward to shove Jud into position. As his hand thrust Jud’s shoulder, Jud reached back with his right hand, pressed Roy’s hand flat against his shoulder, and spun out. Roy yelped as his wrist snapped. Jud, still pivoting, smashed a forearm into the back of Roy’s head, slamming him against the wall. In the same swift motion, he hammered his knee into Roy’s spine. The knife dropped to the floor. Roy fell backward, groaning, panic in his eyes.

“Take Sandy over to 12,” Jud said. “See what happened to Larry.”

Outside, Donna crouched and hugged her crying daughter. “Did he hurt you, honey?”

She nodded.

“Where did he hurt you?”

“He pinched me here.” She pointed to her left breast, a barely noticable rise through her blouse. “And he put his finger down here.”

“Inside?”

She nodded and sniffed.

“He didn’t rape you, though?”

“He said later. And he used the bad word.”

“What did he say?”

“The bad word.”

“You can tell me.”

“He said later. He said later he’d F me till I can’t walk straight. And then he was gonna F you. And then he was gonna gut us like catfish.”

“Bastard,” Donna muttered. “The stinking bastard.” She held Sandy gently, stroking the girl’s head. “Well, I guess he won’t get a chance to do any of that, will he?”

“Is he dead?”

“I don’t know. But he can’t hurt us now. Jud took care of that.” She stood. “Okay, let’s see about Larry.”

“Larry’s okay. I tied him real good.”

“
You
tied him?”

“I had to. Daddy was gonna kill him.”

They started walking across the parking area.

“I told Daddy, if he killed Larry, I’d scream. He said he’d kill me if I did, and I said I didn’t care. I said, if he didn’t kill Larry, I’d do anything he wanted. He wanted me to pretend so he could make you open the door.”

“How did he get
Larry
to open the door?”

“He pretended to be a policeman.”

“Great,” Donna muttered, wondering how Larry could be that stupid. She tried the door of Cabin 12. It wasn’t locked. She pushed it open.

“Where is he?”

“In the bathtub. It was Daddy’s idea.”

She found Larry facedown in the empty tub, a shirt tied around his mouth for a gag. His hands were bound together behind his back, and knotted to the ankles of his upraised feet.

“We got him!” Sandy announced.

Larry answered with a grunt.

Sitting on the edge of the tub, the girl leaned forward and picked at the knots. In a few moments, she had them loose. Larry pushed himself to his knees. He tugged the knotted shirt down from his face, and plucked a black sock out of his mouth. “Dreadful man,” Larry muttered. “A total barbarian. Are both of you all right? Where’s Judgment? What happened?”

Donna explained what Jud had done, and that she didn’t know how badly he’d injured Roy.

“Perhaps we should find out.”

They crossed through the darkness to Cabin 9 and found Jud sitting on the bed. On the floor between the beds, Roy lay facedown. His hands were tied behind his back. A pillowcase covered his head, strapped tightly around his neck with a leather belt. Except for his breathing, he was motionless.

“I see you have matters well in hand,” Larry said.

Sandy, looking down at her father, squeezed Donna’s hand tightly. Donna sat down beside Jud. They moved sideways to make room for the girl.

“What shall we do with the cad?” Larry asked, lowering himself daintily onto the empty bed.

“He’s not a cad,” said Jud. “He murdered Donna’s
sister. He murdered her brother-in-law. He sexually abused Sandy. God knows what else he’s inflicted on Donna and Sandy. But we all know what he intended to do. That’s not a cad, in my book. In my book, that’s a beast.”

“What do you propose we do with him?” Larry asked.

“Put him where he belongs.”

“In jail?” Sandy asked.

Donna, feeling a chill scurry up her back, said, “No, honey. I don’t think that’s what Jud has in mind.”

Larry suddenly understood. Shaking his head, he muttered, “Oh dear God.”