The Skin Show (20 page)

“Please
let us go!”

The
supplicant whine froze Karen in mid-stride. A cold squirmy feeling tickled her
stomach.

A
woman’s
voice.

Maybe
Karen hadn’t really heard it, and her ears were tricking her. When she used to
go camping with her dad, sometimes she would think she’d heard someone talking
in the dark woods. Dad told her it was the combination of the wind blowing
through the trees and sighs of the forest critters. Add that to the active
imagination of a child, you’d get human voices.

There
aren’t any trees down there…critters maybe, but definitely no wind or trees.

“Please
don’t!”

Another
voice. The same alarmed tone, but not the same person, for sure.

Karen
turned around, stepping through the doorway, and peering down into the
basement. She almost called out to them, but stopped herself. Doing that would
announce her location. What if the people down there were in trouble? What if
Andy was one of them?

Right
now, she had surprise on her side. If she was quiet enough, she might be able to
sneak up on whatever was going on.

Might
even be able to help.

Her
purse forgotten, Karen started to go down. She stopped.
Could this be a
trick?

She
shook her head. If they wanted to nab her, they’d just do it. She doubted
they’d go through elaborate means to trap her. There were people down there,
and Andy was probably one of them.

Taking
a deep breath, Karen stepped down on the first rung. Felt it bow slightly under
her weight. There was a squeaky groan as she lifted her right foot to put it on
the next step.

Panicked
chatter resounded from the darkness below. She could hear harsh squeals, mad
bursts of words in gasping breaths growing fainter. As if they were being taken
farther away from Karen.

How
big was the basement? Unsure, she needed to put speed to her movements, or it
might be too late by the time she reached them.

Karen
put both feet down on the last step in the small tarn of light, taking a deep
breath as she raised her right foot. Toes out, she twisted her foot around,
trying to find the next step. She felt nothing but air. Leaning forward,
keeping her shoulder against the wall for balance, she nudged the dark with her
shoe. Still nothing.

The
vision of ghostly white hands reaching up from the darkness for her ankle
appeared so vividly in her head that she thought she’d actually seen it happen.
Snatching back her foot, she fell back. Her rump smashed the edge of the step,
slipped off, and landed on the step she’d been standing on. The impact jarred
her, clapping her teeth together.

Son
of a bitch!

She
slammed her fists down on the wooden plank, sending another jarring burst of
pain through her. Tears filled her eyes. Salty heat streamed down her cheeks.

“Great…”
she muttered.

Karen
felt like a fool for spooking herself. There had been no hands of any kind
groping for her feet. She backhanded the tears away with her throbbing hands.
As she started to stand, an idea came to her. To avoid another fall, she might
be better off scooting the rest of the way down.

Like
a little kid going down stairs…

She’d
feel ridiculous, and probably look it, too, but it would work. So, that was
what she did. A wedge of tongue poking out the corner of her mouth, she
scooted. There were momentary bouts of anxiety when her rump left the support
of a plank, followed by a soft jolt when it found the next one down.

Soon,
her knees bumped concrete in front of her.
The wall.
She reached out,
fingers brushing scratchy coolness. Patting around her, her hands felt over the
lip of the step, wiped cement, some dust, and small twigs and leaves.

The
basement.

Listening,
she detected the frenzied cries to her right, much softer.

Running
out of time.

Getting
to her feet was more painful than she expected. Her rump ached, making her
lower back feel compacted and sore. For some reason, her neck felt awfully
tight and she could feel a headache developing. Rolling her shoulders, she
hoped to work away the pinching bulge between her shoulder blades. It helped
some, but not enough to make her feel any better.

Karen
turned toward the voices. More darkness ahead of her, but she could see a faint
guttering of orange on the far side of the room to the left. Using that as her
beacon, she headed in that direction.

Then
her shin cracked something hard. She stumbled a few steps, her shoes making
scuffing sounds on the dirty floor. Its pointed tip made her think what she
struck was a crate of some kind. Her skirt wasn’t quite long enough to shield
her skin from the pain. And, even if it was, she doubted it was thick enough to
stop the hurt. She could feel warm fluid trickling down her shin.

Great,
now I’m bleeding. Going to kill myself before I even get to them.

Andy
better appreciate the hell she was going through. Maybe later, when they were
far away from this awful place, he could aid her wounds. Patch her up. She
smiled at the thought, and found herself really hoping it would happen.

Karen
walked the rest of the way without trouble. Reaching the end of the strip, she
stopped where the light reached around the corner. She stepped through an
opening and stopped a couple steps in.

My
God…

The
wall had been knocked down and a narrow passage excavated through the ground, distending
endlessly. Feebly illuminated by the walls themselves—glowing and dissolving in
a variety of tawdry colors—the walls looked like multi-patterned crusts,
filtered and flashing. Far ahead of her she could see a small group of
creatures like the one they’d seen outside. She remembered thinking a talented
professional was in a costume and wanted to laugh at how wrong she had been.

At
first glimpse, she thought capes were emanating from their backs, but as she
strained to examine farther, she realized it was clothing.
Women
inside
the clothing. Bowed over the creatures’ shoulders, they pounded at their backs,
shrieking and crying. The hapless victims were being carted off to parts
unknown. Thinking back to the skinned woman upstairs, Karen understood the
future was bleak for them.

A
blonde raised both her fists into the air and was about to slam them down on a
creature’s back when she spotted Karen. Gasping, she froze, her arms poised above
her.

Holding
up her hands, Karen tried signaling for Blondie to be quiet. Either she didn’t
understand Karen’s caricaturing capabilities, or she just didn’t care, because
she started screaming for Karen’s help.

The
creature’s stopped in unison, slowly turning around in a synchronized motion.
Six pairs of beady red eyes locked on her.

Karen
felt herself shrink inside. “Oh…shit…”

Their
mouths stretched, yawning unnaturally wide to release embellished roars. Even
from at least thirty feet away, Karen felt the heat of their growls buffeting
against her, blowing her hair back.

Karen
staggered back a couple steps, stumbling over her feet as another round of deep
menacing growls erupted from nearby. Wild shadows danced across the dimly lit
walls to the rear.

They’re
coming down the stairs.

Realizing
she was about to be sandwiched in the basement with monsters on both sides, she
ran. Away from the tunnel, back to where the actual basement had ended.

A
growl came again, followed by another. Separate growls that Karen could feel juddering
her deep inside. Even her lungs seemed to be trembling.

Then
something clicked in Karen’s head. Something she’d forgotten all about…

My
gun.

She’d
left it under Andy’s backseat. Sugar said she couldn’t bring it inside, so
she’d tucked it under there, hoping she wouldn’t need it. Now she did, and she
wanted to kick herself for not sneaking it in.

They
scanned us at the door with a metal detector…

The
gun would have been confiscated. At least in Andy’s car it was still available.

If
only she could get to it.

Standing
on the other side of the busted down wall, Karen looked around. At first, all
she could see were the blocks of dark basement. As her eyes struggled to
adjust, she could make out a section jutting out from the right. She ran for
it, not knowing what she would do when she got there.

Karen
bumped against the wall. She’d reached the other side of this tight space. She
looked around. To her left she could vaguely make out the pale blocky surface
of a cinder blocked wall. But, to her right, all she could see was blackness.

Maybe
I can hide.

The
scraping of feet on concrete…

No
time to hide. Karen ran to the right, not knowing if there was anything for her
at the other end. A brisk moment later, her feet got tangled in something
flimsy and thin. From the knees down it felt as if she were being bitten by
stinging mouths as her legs locked up. Her momentum carried her forward. She
landed in a heap of discarded barbwire. Strands tousled around her like the
oral arms of a jellyfish. The barbs slit her hands and arms as she shoved at
them to get back up. The pain was agonizing as the slashes mixed with her
sweat.

The
more she struggled, the more tangled she became. Drowning in her fear,
screaming and wriggling, she inched along. Barbs sliced and pricked her as she
crawled forward. Her arm came free, reaching out madly. She expected a hand to
grab her forearm as she wiggled through. None did.

Her
palm slapped cool concrete. Karen squealed with mad delight.  

Then
her skirt got hung up on the fence and she started to scream cuss words. Snarls
cut them off. Whatever had produced them sounded very close. Grabbing a handful
of skirt, she yanked with all she had. It ripped away, throwing her onto her
side. As she rolled, her skin ignited with blazing stings from the piercing
barbs.

Her
hip jabbed the concrete floor and she rolled onto her back. A section of her skirt
dangled from the tip of a barbwire bundle. Her right leg was bare from the
middle of her thigh down.

Karen
gazed over the lake of barbwire to the glowing monsters on the other side. These
were also like the one she’d seen outside. Now there were two of them: equal in
size and appearance. The same neon morphing skin, red marble eyes, glistening
mouths oozing drool and filled with large rows of dagger-like teeth.

They
could see her. Studying the floor, they saw there would be a challenge reaching
her. Not much of one, but the barbs would slow the pursuit down some. Their
snarling mouths opened wide with their screams of rage.

Karen
couldn’t stop the smile, knowing they were pissed off. Her valor didn’t last
longer than a flash of a second, though. It wouldn’t take much for them to get
on this side. With that in mind, she forced herself to her feet. It wasn’t
easy, and she couldn’t move as quickly as she wanted to. Her body pulsed with
pain.

Get
moving!

Her
left leg didn’t want to cooperate with the right and she was performing a hop
stride instead of a full sprint. Each step sent a sharp jab of pain up her leg.
She didn’t let it deter her, though, and kept moving; kept moving, not stopping
until her shins collided with something hard. It kicked her feet back, throwing
her legs behind her and bringing her down to meet more steps.

Her
chest smashed into the narrow edge of a tread. The impact felt as if it might
knock her breasts out her back. Her chin slammed down on another. Her vision
flashed.

“Ohhh…”
Her voice sounded muffled and bubbly through the clamor in her ears.

Through
the pain, she felt herself slip down. Another short drop and her face met the
step. She managed to throw her arm up and grip the back of a stair…

Stairs!

The
realization brought her from her hazy mind. She’d started to drift away to
unconsciousness but stopped herself just in time.

“No,”
she muttered. “Move, Karen…dammit,
move
!”

She
pushed herself up to her hands. Legs extended, her feet were on the floor. It
felt weird. There was coldness under the right one. Wiggling her toes, she
realized she’d lost a shoe in her fall. She didn’t dare take the time to look
for it in the dark.
Might never find it.
Besides, it would slow her
down.

No
doubt the creatures would be here any moment.

Back
arched, rump high in the air, she crawled upward. She moved along the steps like
a dog—hands slipped through the spaces between each step, shoulder falling
against the edge, causing even more pain. Feet slipped. The other sandal fell
off, and she heard it smacking the steps on its way down.

As
she was starting to wonder when she’d reach the top, she bashed her head.

Karen
pushed the solid mass above her. It gave slightly, then dropped back down. When
she’d first started her painful trek into the basement, she’d thought it had
reminded her of her grandmother’s cellar. And, if it was anything like it, what
she was pushing against would be the storm doors attached to the side of the
house.

Now
the barbwire made sense. It was a trap set for anybody dumb enough to come down
these steps. Like a spider’s web, the barbwire would keep somebody restrained
until something came to get it.

Thank
you, God, for me getting free…

She
couldn’t remember the last time she’d acknowledged God, but thought now would
be a great time to start back up. She was alive—for now—and would thank Him for
it. But, all that pain and struggle would be for nothing if she couldn’t get past
these doors.

Patting
with her hands, the doors felt thin and hollow. She was positive a lock of some
kind was on the other side preventing the doors from opening, but they felt
weak enough that she might be able to break them open.

Carefully,
she squatted, took a few quick deep breaths, holding the last one as she sprung
herself upward. She canted her head to the side just before crashing against
the doors. Something cracked—hopefully the wood and not her neck—then she
dropped back down.

And
slipped through the gap between the steps.

She
grabbed the upper step, saving herself from falling all the way through. Just
her legs this time, but it was too close a call.

Green
light began to thin the darkness around her. She looked back.

The
creatures were coming. Not very far away, they approached the stairs, walking
hunched over to avoid bashing their heads on the ceiling beams.

“No!”

Growls
returned her cry.

Karen
pulled her hips through, sitting her rump on the step. She didn’t take the time
to confirm she had purchase and scrambled back into a squat. Her toes felt like
they were being crushed as she pushed down. Then she threw herself upward,
smashing into the doors again.

More
splintering cracks, but the doors held.

When
she dropped, she landed better this time. “Dammit! Open, you bastard!”

She
stole another glance behind her. The creatures were at the stairs. Instead of
climbing them, they walked behind them. Arms reaching, they were going to try
and grab her feet.

Bastards
are probably too heavy for the stairs!

If
so, it would delay them getting her. Karen jumped. She hadn’t aimed right, so this
hit was too awkward to do much damage. Plus, she hadn’t angled her neck and
took the force of the impact directly on her crown. It felt as if the collision
pressed her neck down the center of her back. She tingled from the shoulders
down to her wrists, from neck to hips. She nearly tumbled all the way to the
floor, quickly regaining her balance as hands swiped at her ankles.

Screaming,
Karen stomped at their elongated talons, missing with each attempt.  She
squatted, felt claws slice her exposed calf through the torn skirt, and jumped.
The manufactured wood peeled around her left shoulder as it crashed through the
flat paneling. Now standing, and bent at a painful angle, she dislodged her
shoulder from the door and looked down.

An
arm reached out below her, fingers flexing, the tips of its claws hardly an
inch from her Achilles tendon. She knew she should keep working at the hole,
but she couldn’t pass up an opportunity to do this.

Karen
jumped.

All
her weight came down on the glowing arm. Both feet planted firmly above the wrist,
snapping the forearm in half. A painful shriek emanated from the darkness as
the creature worked at trying to free its arm from under her. The texture of
the writhing skin felt like scales glazed in honey. She almost slipped, so she
hopped up to the next step. The arm shot back behind the stairs.

Smirking,
she started back to the top.

Then
the stairs began to quake. The frame violently trembled, bouncing and jerking
from side to side like a bridge in a funhouse. Karen held on, her legs dancing
wildly behind her as they tried to find leverage. Her knees bounced off the
edges of the steps, sending stabs of dull bursts up to her stomach.

She
screamed for them to stop, although she knew it would do no good.

At
the bottom of the stairs, a creature emerged. Holding its hurt arm close, the
skin radiated a dark red simmer. She wondered if it was angry, hurt, or both. The
other creature remained behind the stairs, rocking them, trying to make her
fall.

So
that one down there can catch me.

Nope.
Not gonna happen…

Karen
put her back to it, crawling back to the top as the creature snarled irately
from below. Crouching on the top step, she revved back her arm and punched the
door below the hole. Her fist went straight through. She tugged it back,
scraping it on the jagged edges of the busted cheap wood. Warm blood oozed down
the back of her hand as she began to tug the border around the hole. Pieces
broke off. She let them drop and grabbed back on, tugging until even more broke
away, widening the hole.

The
creature at the bottom of the stairs growled. Understanding what she was doing,
it mounted the stairs, not caring if it broke them.

Karen
screamed cuss words at it as she continued snapping off chunks. The hole was
much bigger. As if about to take flight, she sprung once more, arms stretched out,
sailing through.

Her
breasts stopped her. 

“Shit!”

Squirming
in the hole, her breasts kept her wedged there.

“Help!”

She
didn’t know who could possibly be out there to help, but it wasn’t going to
stop her from trying. Out of options, she continued to scream as she wriggled
her clogged body. Her breasts squished so tightly they felt like they might
pop.

Putting
her hands flush on the door, Karen pushed with all she had. Her feet slipped
off the step, kicking at the air. A hand grabbed her ankle. And pulled.

She
felt herself being jerked down.

“Let
go of me! Help!”

No
one was coming to her rescue. She was alone out here and losing this battle
fast. The hand, belonging to the creature on the stairs, no doubt, yanked and
yanked. She guessed the stairs were more durable than she’d originally thought.
Keeping her hands flat, she pushed to counter him, kicking with her free foot.
She struck the arm a few times, but the hold never loosened.

The
doors continued to groan, threatening to shatter. If that happened, she was
dead.

“Hey!”

Karen
looked up to find a heavyset man dressed in jeans and a leather jacket rushing
towards her. As he neared, she saw his beard, the dark bandanna wrapped around
his head. He was struggling to buckle the belt of his pants.

One
of the bikers!

“What’s
going on?” he shouted.

“Help!”

He
dropped to his knees in front of the storm doors, reaching for her. She threw
her arms out to him, hoping he would catch them before the creature wrenched
her back down into the cellar.

He
did.

Both
of his hands clasped hers. His strength was surprising as he tugged at her.
Karen cried out when her breasts grated the jagged tips of the hole. Finally
they popped out. She felt herself being hauled through the hole. Her hips
caught, but only for a moment. The door cracked, freeing her.

The
hand gripping her ankle released, and she flew out. The biker fell back, Karen
landing on top of him. Synchronized groans gusted from both their mouths. She
could smell old beer on his breath, and felt two strong arms wrap around her
back.

“What’s
going on? Are you okay?”

“Thank
you…thank you so much! We have to get help!”

“Everyone
else already left! I was hoping if I hung around long enough they’d let me in.
Wouldn’t have even noticed you if I didn’t come back here to take a piss! Was
someone attacking you?!”

The
question gave Karen the boost she needed. If it was up to her, she would have
continued to lie there, even if it was on the chest of a beefy stranger. She
squirmed on his wilted gut, working free of his clumsy embrace. Her knee dug
into his abdomen as she rolled off him. Once she was on the ground, she fumbled
to get on her knees.

“Damn,
girl!” He sat up, moaning. “Tell me what’s going on!”

“We
need to get out of here!”

Getting
to his knees, the man rubbed his belly. Wincing, he looked at her through one
opened eye. “Wha…?” His question was cut off by the pale giant hand bursting
through the door and dropping down, palming his head like a basketball. Claws
dug into his skin, fingers pushing into his eyes up to bony knuckles.
Screaming, the man thrashed as he reached up, grabbing the forearm with both
hands. Blood flowed down his face, drenching it in a crimson mask. In a flash
of movement, the man flew back, crashing through the door. The last Karen saw
of him was his silver-toed boots vanishing inside the obscurity of the cellar.

Karen
screamed, senselessly reaching out a hand, as if to stop his rearward plunge.
She stayed that way for a few short moments that felt endless, frozen on her
knees, one arm out.

The
man’s agonizing screams, combined with the juicy rips of his flesh being
devoured, the splintery snaps of bones, the blood squirting through the gaping
hole in the door like a sprinkler system, jarred her from her daze. Karen
gauchely got to her feet. Her legs felt wobbly and weak, though she managed to
stay upright.

She
ran.

Sprinting
alongside the house, Karen kept close to the stone walls. The trees on this
side reached far out, the tips of their branches scratching at the siding.
Leaves whacked her face as she dashed through. Throwing up her hands, she
blocked some of their slaps, but not all of them. One poked her in the eye. It
filled with water and made her vision look as if she was swimming under water
with her eyes open. When she no longer felt the house to her left, she stopped
running, and rubbed her eyes with the balls of her fists.

Karen
opened her eyes. She could see better, but it was still watery and blurry. She
was at the end of the waiting line, or where it
had
been earlier. She
remembered the biker telling her no one was here. Seeing the lone Harley parked
in front of the bike rail was depressing. Its owner would never straddle the
leather seat ever again.

Karen’s
chest started to tighten. Her eyes once again became moist, but this time, it
was tears causing it. She was about to head for the parking lot when the
playful call of her name resounded through the night.

“Kareeeeen?”

 
Sugar.

The
faux southern accent was back. Turning, Karen spotted Sugar perched like a bird
atop a wooden fence post several feet away. She was black against the gray
light of the moon. Her wavy hair stirred in a breeze Karen couldn’t feel.

“Stay
away from me!” threatened Karen.

Sugar
laughed. Its playful chortle was mocking in tone. “Hooooo…and if I don’t?”

Karen
glanced to the parking lot, over cars to the area where Andy had parked. Unlike
a lot of her friends, Karen never forgot where she parked. It was a gift given
to her by God for this very night. She could find Andy’s car with no problem…as
long as she could
get
to it.

Sugar
might have read her mind. “Thinking about making a break for the car?”

“It
crossed my mind.” Karen’s voice was trembling and thin. It lacked the assertive
conviction she’d hoped for. She hurt all over and felt sticky spots spreading across
her skin. She’d been beaten up bad. Still, she wouldn’t let it affect her. She
was
not
going to let them get her.

What
do they want with me?!

Duh!
To
kill
me!

Karen
felt a cold stab in her back.

The
Skin Show was a front…an alluring sham used to bait people into a den of
monsters. She’d been duped…so had Andy…Danny…everyone.

“Then
go for it,” said Sugar.

Karen
took a deep breath. “I’m working myself up to it.”

Another
laugh. The dark curve of her head shook. “You missed your chance.”

Sugar
emitted a thin crackling noise. It sounded as if someone was unrolling a tube
of paper. Karen watched as something sprouted from Sugar’s back, spreading.
There was a tightened flap as wings extended. Not feathery annexes like those
of an angel, but dingy mats like a ragged kite, like the wings on the
she-beasts inside. The tips fluttered like a tattered flag.

A
scream tickled the back of Karen’s throat, sticking there. “Oh…shit…”

Sugar
screeched like a tortured owl.

And,
Karen ran.

She
heard a whoosh behind her, feeling the wind rustle her hair as she ran. She
bent her head, pumping her aching arms. Knees shot high in front of her as she
dashed through the tight spaces between parked cars.

Wind
buffeted her, beating against her clothes. Sugar was gaining on her. She could
feel Sugar’s hot, putrid breath on the back of her neck. Could smell the
decaying stench huffing behind her.

Karen
dove under a van just as Sugar grabbed for her. Fingers combed through her
hair, barely missing. She belly crawled under the van. Trying to catch her
breath, she heard the tinny bang of Sugar landing on the van’s ceiling.

Three
more rows. Please…let me make it three more rows to Andy’s car. You’ve done so
much already…just a little more.

Karen
didn’t give Sugar a chance to look for her. She clambered out from under the
van, scraping her back on the undercarriage as she clawed the ground. When her
legs were free, she jumped to her feet, and raced onward.