After Midnight (38 page)

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Authors: Richard Laymon

Tags: #Fiction - Horror

BOOK: After Midnight
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Elroy’ll be fine, I told myself.

45
WHERE IS ELROY?

Or maybe not.

As the minutes went by, I kept expecting to hear the door slide open. But no sounds came from the house.

What’s he doing in there?

Playing games, probably.

Payback games. He’s staying inside, wasting time, trying to scare me.

I turned my back to the pool and stared at the living-room door. From where I was standing, though, the glass reflected too much. I could barely make out any details of the dim room.

I should probably just go in and see what’s keeping him.

Yeah, sure, I thought. That’s what he
wants
me to do. So he can jump out and scare the…

What if he’s dead?

He isn’t dead, I told myself. Whoever took the saber is probably long gone. You don’t rob a house, then stick around. You get out as fast as you can.

Unless maybe it’s not just a robbery.

Maybe the whole idea is to use the sword on me.

Who would want to do that? I wondered.

Judy. She got away, somehow, and now she wants revenge.

But she couldn’t possibly know where I live. She knew nothing about me, certainly not my address or my real name.

Maybe my midnight swimmer came back for another try at me.

Get real, I told myself. A guy like that isn’t going to show up in daylight. Or any other time, probably, since he had to figure I’d called the cops on him.

Somebody
took the sword.

Probably.

But maybe not. Even though I had a specific memory of hanging it back up—had I taken it down again for some reason?

Maybe I’d done it while concentrating on something else. That sort of thing happens to me, sometimes. I suppose it happens to everyone. Haven’t you ever, say, started off on a trip but then wanted to turn back because you couldn’t recall turning off the stove or locking the front door? Even though you figure you
must’ve
done it (and you’re right), you just cannot remember the act, no matter how hard you try?

It might’ve been that way with the saber.

Instead of getting all bent out of shape when I saw that it was gone, I should’ve made a quick search of the house. Maybe I would’ve found it in the den or bedroom or kitchen—exactly where I’d left it—and saved myself all this worry.

Why not do that now?

Staring at the shut door, I shook my head. This was about as close to the house as I wanted to get.

If Elroy comes out, maybe I’ll go in for a look around.

If?

He’ll come out, I told myself. Just let him get tired of his little game. He’ll quit as soon as he realizes I’m not going to fall for it.

Never should’ve let him go in there. If he’s dead, it’ll be my fault.

No, it won’t. I told him the truth, and he laughed at me. It’ll be his own damn fault.

Anyway, he’s fine. Probably wondering, right now, why I haven’t come in to look for him yet.

Get used to it, creepazoid. I’m not coming in. You can wait till hell freezes over and our steaks thaw out, I’m staying right here.

Even as I thought that, I realized that it might be a very long wait. Elroy had already shown himself to be childish, stubborn, and inconsiderate. A guy like that would be very slow to quit.

I didn’t exactly want to go on waiting.

For one thing, his absence made me nervous; I just couldn’t help fearing foul play, even though I knew the odds were against it.

For another, I wanted my margarita refill.

“I’ll get you out of there,” I muttered.

Then I turned away and walked alongside the pool. I rounded the corner. Stopping near the diving board, I turned to face the house again. The entire rear of it seemed to be glass. I couldn’t see in. But Elroy could see out, if he wanted to. At least from the living room, where the curtains weren’t shut. Other places, too, if he peeked through gaps at the edges of the curtains.

“Elroy!” I called.

But only once. With the house shut up tightly and the air conditioner on, he probably couldn’t hear anything from outside.

Speaking quietly, to myself really, I said, “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Then I started to undo the buttons of my blouse. I began at the top and worked my way slowly downward. Even though I took my sweet time, I didn’t ham it up with any of that stripper stuff you see in the movies. That would’ve been too silly and embarrassing. I don’t mind taking off my clothes, but I’m not going to act like a dork about it.

I slipped my blouse off. I didn’t swing it around overhead, though, and give it a fling. I just dropped it to the concrete at my feet, then unfastened the couple of buttons at my hip and let my skirt fall.

Without looking down, I knew that I was pretty scratched and bruised. But I also knew that there was a lot more to look at than my injuries. My eyepatch panties didn’t leave much to the imagination, and neither did my translucent red bra.

Balancing on one foot, then the other, I pulled off my shoes and socks.

Over at the house, there was still no sign of Elroy. The door remained shut.

I took off my sunglasses, crouched, and set them on my skirt. Then I stepped onto the diving board. I walked out slowly over the water. The board bounced a little with each stride. When I reached the end, I stopped moving and the board settled down.

Still, I didn’t like standing up there. It was like being perched on a ledge. The slightest loss of balance, and I’d fall.

With my record for falling…

This time, at least, I would have a swimming pool underneath me.

I was tempted to go ahead and dive in while I still had control.

Not yet. Just wait. He’s gotta see me up here. That’s the whole point.

So I stayed put, and turned my head to look at the house. Which upset my balance. Not much, but enough to make me start to tilt. I faced forward quickly, bending my knees and spreading my arms. It was iffy for a second or two, but I managed to get steady again.

After that, I knew better than to turn my head.

I also knew it was only a matter of time before I fell off the diving board.

Are you watching, Elroy? Come on out!

Apparently, he hadn’t seen me yet, or he would be hotfooting it out for a closer look.

Maybe he can’t see me.

He’s down on the floor, dead.

Or maybe he’s watching me, all right, but afraid to come out.

Or maybe he’s got his face pressed to the glass, somewhere, and he’s gazing out at me, spellbound, frantic to watch and see what I do next.

I thought about taking off my bra.
That
would sure give him something to see. But I suddenly pictured Elroy naked and squirming against the glass door, just like the guy last night. Then he
became
the guy last night.

Enough of this nonsense.

I kept my bra on, raised my arms high overhead, bent my knees and sprang off the board.

I’m not much of a diver. I’m not much of an athlete of any kind, really. But I knew I had to be looking pretty good. Even with the worst diving form in the world—and mine wasn’t that bad—Elroy had to be drooling and erect watching me.
If
he was watching.

You better be watching, damn it.

I hit the water and went in cleanly and deep. It felt frigid, but only for a couple of seconds. After the first shock had passed, it felt okay. And then it felt just fine, cool and smooth, as I glided along below the surface. When I started to lose power from the dive, I swam underwater until I came to the shallow end of the pool. Then I stood up and turned toward the house.

And found myself looking at the den door.

First, I noticed the pale streaks down the glass.

Then I noticed a gap about ten or twelve inches wide at the door’s edge.

It’s open!

I hadn’t done
that!
I might’ve misplaced the saber—though I doubted it—but no way on earth had I left the den door unlocked and open.

I hadn’t left the curtains open, either.

But they were open now. In spite of the reflections on the glass, I could make out a few vague images inside the den. Not much, but enough to tell me that someone had opened the curtains.

Elroy must’ve done it.

Maybe he’d decided to give the house an inspection—just to make sure there really wasn’t an intruder. Along the way, he might’ve opened some curtains, opened the den door…

It hardly seemed likely, though.

He wouldn’t go around looking for intruders or signs of a break-in. Not Elroy. He hadn’t even looked to see if there were any hooks above the fireplace.

I suddenly knew the answer.

He did it as part of his plan to freak me out.

The bastard sure holds a grudge.

Or maybe he’s just doing it to amuse himself. Doesn’t mean to really scare me. Sees it as nothing more than a fun diversion, like hide ’n seek. A game to help pass the time while the steaks are thawing.

I called out, “Very funny, Elroy. I know what you’re doing, and I’m not falling for it. Why don’t you stop screwing around and come out?”

No answer came.

Frankly, I didn’t expect one.

But I hoped.

“I know you’re in the den, watching me.”

I knew no such thing.

I only hoped.

Please, let it be a dumb game he’s playing.

It has to be.

“I tell you what, Elroy.” My voice was shaking. “I’ll count to three. If you come out before I reach three, I’ll take my bra off for you. Hell, I’ll throw it to you. But only if you come out by the time I count to three. One.”

Nothing.

I went ahead and reached behind my back, anyway, to show him I meant business.

“Two.”

Nothing.

“Time’s running out. This’ll be your only chance, Elroy. If you don’t pop your head out of that doorway in one second…”

It didn’t pop out.

It rolled.

46
REUNION

Unfortunately, the rest of Elroy wasn’t attached.

His head tumbled out of the den like a lopsided, mutant bowling ball, did a little hop over the door’s threshold, then dropped to the concrete outside. As it dropped, his tongue was sticking out. The concrete clipped him on the chin, and he bit his tongue nearly off. It hung by a string of flesh as his head rolled a crooked course toward the pool—toward me.

He seemed to glance at me each time his face came up.

The stump of his neck flung blood through the air.

His tongue came off.

He bounced and rolled all the way to the pool. By the time he reached its edge, his nose was flat and his front upper teeth were broken out. He gave me a quick, awful grin, then sailed off the edge and plopped into the water about a yard in front of me.

The water went pink around his sinking head.

I waded backward as fast as I could.

Elroy’s head seemed to pursue me.

But I stopped paying attention to it when the den door rumbled open.

Out stepped my midnight swimmer.

He held the saber in his right hand.

He wore nothing but shorts. From face to feet, he was spattered with blood. Except for his left arm, which was
sleeved
with it.

Somewhere in Serena and Charlie’s house, he must’ve made an
awful
mess.

If he kills me, I thought, at least I won’t have to worry about cleaning it up.

(You think odd stuff at times like that.)

He walked straight to the edge of the pool, then stopped and rested the point of the sword on the concrete beside his bare foot.

“Hello again,” he said. He seemed serious, but calm.

I didn’t say anything. I was having trouble breathing. Then I flinched as something brushed against the side of my right leg.

“You must’ve known I’d come back for you.”

I took a step backward to get away from Elroy’s head.

“Don’t. Don’t try to get away from me. You
can’t
get away from me. I’m way too fast for you. And today, I’m the one with the sword. I could kill you in the blink of an eye. Or slice off small parts of you here and there. You don’t want me to do that, do you?”

I shook my head.

“You be my good girl, then.”

I nodded.

“Don’t move,” he said, then raised the saber, stepped off the edge, and dropped into the pool. As water splashed up around him, I took a single step backward. He didn’t seem to notice. But he waded closer to me, and I didn’t dare move away from him again. “You’re very lucky to have a pool,” he said. “I wish I had one.”

Lowering his sword, he crouched down until the water covered his shoulders. Then he swished his left arm around, apparently trying to wash the blood off, and the water around it went pink.

“Your name is Alice, right?” he asked.

(Of course, he didn’t say Alice. He said my real name, which is my secret.)

“How do you know?” I asked.

“I’ve heard.” He dunked his head.

I thought about making a break.

Before I could decide, his head came up, hair matted flat, water running down his face. With his left hand, which wasn’t bloody anymore, he rubbed his face.

“I’m Steve,” he said.

“I’m charmed,” I said.

He smiled. “Glad to hear it.”

“That’s sarcasm, Stevie.”

His left hand smacked me hard across the face, burning my cheek and knocking my head sideways. My eyes filled with tears.

“That wasn’t very nice,” I said.

“Depends which side you’re on.”

“From this side, it sucked.”

“If you didn’t like it, you’d better learn how to behave.”

“Consider me taught,” I said.

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