A Crying Shame (106 page)

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Authors: William W. Johnstone

BOOK: A Crying Shame
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Christy and Jean lay in silence for a few moments, catching their breath, for they had been racing down the blacktop for a mile, ending in a dead tie.
Christy sniffed the air.
Phew! What is that smell? Did you poot?”
Christy! No, I didn't. God! That does smell bad, doesn't it?”
The Links remained perfectly still behind the girls. Only a few more yards to go. The maddened young males did not know that they, too, were being observed from a distance.
The girls looked around them; they could see nothing except the dark waters of the swamp behind them and the gloom that seemed to hang over the sluggish water.
Probably a dead animal back in the swamp,” Christy said.
Jean looked into the murkiness. She shivered unexpectedly as a small finger of fear traced wetly up her back.
Place sure looks spooky.”
Christy decided to have a little fun with the city girl.
It's called the Crying Swamp.”
Jean closed her eyes.
Why?”
Because strange noises are often heard in there . . . coming from real deep in the swamp. Kind of in a haunting way.”
Jean opened her eyes and kept them open.
What kind of haunting noises?”
Wild, weird noises. Like people screaming and women crying in pain and fear.”
I think I'm ready to go now, Christy.” She stood up, flushing at her new friend's laughter. She looked behind her, at the murky waters. Her sudden screaming chilled her companion. It was a scream of pure terror.
Christy had time only to get to her knees before something foul and ugly knocked her spinning, back to the mossy earth. She had a side view of the most horrible-looking creature she'd ever witnessed . . . even in a scary monster movie. It was all covered with hair, with huge dangling arms and claws for hands. Its big head had mean yellow eyes and teeth that hung over apelike lips.
And that thing that dangled between its legs.
She knew what that was. And there wasn't any way that was gonna be stuck in her.
But she was wrong.
She opened her mouth to scream her panic but a clawlike hand clamped over her mouth, the other hand ripping at her cutoff jeans. From where she was pinned, she had a close-up view of the dangling sex organ.
She shut her eyes, trying to kick her way free. Something heavy slammed her on the side of the head, stunning her. She saw bright lights and spinning balls of fire and heard the incessant clanging of bells. But through the lights and the fire and the bells she could hear Jean wailing. Squalling was more like it. Then she heard the girl begging for them to stop.
It hurts! It hurts!” Jean screamed.
An awful scream.
A second later the girl's shrieking was abruptly silenced.
Christy opened her eyes. She kept them open, frozen open in sheer horror.
Jean was on her knees, held there by the . . . things. She was naked from the waist down. One of those . . . things was doing it to her, driving and hunching in and out of her. Blood dripped down the girl's thighs. But Christy could see that Jean was unconscious.

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