Blood Games (43 page)

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Authors: Richard Laymon

BOOK: Blood Games
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    ‘I’m so thirsty I’m spitting sand,’ Vivian said.
    ‘Why don’t you two go on ahead?’ Cora suggested. ‘Bring back a water bottle. I’ll be okay in a while.’
    ‘It’s not a good idea to split up,’ Vivian said.
    ‘We can keep an eye on you till you get to the lodge. It’s an open field. Nothing’s gonna happen. Just go right around to the car and hurry back.’
    ‘What about you guys?’ Finley asked.
    ‘We’ve got the shotgun.’
    ‘I’ve got Batty’s knife,’ Abilene added. She straightened up and patted its handle. ‘Go on. We’ll be all right. And get me some shoes. And a blouse or something.’
    ‘Anything else while we’re there?’ Vivian asked.
    ‘How about flashlights?’ Finley suggested.
    ‘Get going,’ Cora muttered. ‘And keep your eyes open.’
    ‘You too,’ Vivian said. ‘Be careful.’
    She and Finley started across the field, walking side by side. Abilene watched them. The sunlight out there looked very bright, very hot.
    ‘Glad it’s them and not us,’ she said.
    ‘Our turn’ll come. I’m just glad to have Finley out of my hair. What a pain.’
    Abilene smiled. ‘I’d really start worrying if she stopped being one. Did you see how she acted after Batty grabbed her boob?’
    ‘Yeah. She didn’t make a crack for all of ten minutes.’
    ‘I think it made her a little crazy.’
    ‘That’s for sure. Christ. When she’s not being a wiseass, she’s dangerous.’
    ‘Viv’s taking everything pretty well,’ Abilene said.
    ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen her lose her head, you know that? Even when stuff hits her hard. She could be tom to pieces inside, but she always keeps her cool. She’ll complain about shit. She’ll cry her eyes out sometimes. But she always gets on with business. Never flips out. Smart, gorgeous, and she’s got balls of brass. I could kill her.’
    Abilene laughed.
    Vivian and Finley were halfway across the field now. Walking slowly as if the sun were pressing down on their shoulders.
    Finley looked around.
    Abilene raised a hand.
    Finley nodded, turned to Vivian and said something. Vivian elbowed her.
    Abilene swept her eyes across the rear of the lodge, then up and down both sides of the field. Satisfied that no one was approaching them, she turned to Cora.
    ‘Are we gonna need those flashlights?’
    ‘I’ll be ready when they get back. I think. Get a load of this,’ she said, and raised her right arm. The skin of her armpit was red, abraded raw by the stock of the shotgun.
    ‘God,’ Abilene muttered.
    ‘My leg might last long enough to get me to the lodge. I hope so.’
    ‘We’ll get you there, one way or another.’
    ‘I’m not gonna be hiking to town, that’s for sure.’
    ‘Maybe we can find the car keys.’
    ‘Sure.’
    Abilene sat on the ground beside her. She was tempted to lie down, but knew she wouldn’t like the feel of the weeds and twigs and leaves against her bare back. She crossed her legs, then folded her hands behind her hpad and stretched, straining her arms backward and arching her spine. It felt so good that she moaned.
    ‘How would you like to stay with me?’ Cora asked, looking her in the eyes.
    ‘Huh?’ Abilene lowered her arms.
    ‘Somebody’ll have to go for help. I figure Finley’d be good for that, but she can’t go alone. I don’t want anyone going anywhere alone. I thought maybe Vivian could go with Fin and you could stay with me. It’s up to you. If you don’t want to, that’s fine. It’d mean spending the night around here someplace. God knows what might happen.’
    ‘There’s gotta be another way.’
    ‘If you can think of one, I’d be glad to hear it.’
    ‘We should all at least try to get off the grounds of the lodge. Down as far as the road, maybe.’
    ‘I don’t know about making it down that driveway.’
    ‘You could roll.’
    Cora grimaced at her. ‘You’re almost as bad as Finley.’
    ‘What was your plan?’
    ‘Hide somewhere in the woods, I guess. Like last night.’
    ‘Are you sure you’d rather have me than Vivian?’
    ‘I think so. If something goes wrong, I think I’d rather have you with me.’
    ‘Really? How come?’
    Cora shrugged. ‘You’re quick to use your head. You usually seem to know right away what needs to be done, and you go ahead and do it.’
    ‘Well. Thanks.’
    Looking out across the field, she watched Vivian and Finley vanish beyond the corner of the lodge.
    ‘So you’ll do it? Stay with me?’
    ‘Sure. Hell, it’d beat walking all night.’
    ‘Scoot over a little closer, would you?’
    The request perplexed Abilene, but she did as asked. Cora put an arm around her back, gently caressed her bare side.
    Her heart started thumping.
    
What’s going on?
    
She can’t be… gay. She’s married, for Godsake! Got married only three months after the New York trip. (What does that prove?) She can’t be.
    ‘Just relax,’ Cora whispered, her breath tickling Abilene’s ear. ‘Just act like everything’s normal.’
    ‘Cora…’
    ‘There’s somebody in the bushes right behind you.’
    The words slammed through her chest. ‘Who is it?’
    ‘I don’t know.’
    ‘Batty?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Oh God.’
    ‘It’s okay, it’s okay. Act normal. We’re gonna nail him.’ Cora patted her side. ‘Let’s get going,’ she said in a louder voice. ‘I’m tired of sitting here.’
    Fighting her urge to look back, Abilene got to her feet. Someone watching us.
    Helen’s killer?
    She glanced toward the lodge. No sign of Vivian and Finley. A great time for us to be split up.
    She bent over and clutched Cora’s left arm.
    She saw her blouse knotted around Cora’s ankle. Not that she needed reminding that she was half naked.
    
I don’t believe this. Shit!
    As she pulled, Cora pushed herself up with the shotgun.
    ‘Let me see if I can walk on my own. Stand back.’
    She let go and took a couple of steps away. She watched Cora, keeping her eyes from the bushes where the stranger supposedly lurked.
    Cora stayed up. ‘See? I can get along without you.’
    Pivoting on her left leg, she shouldered the shotgun and swung its barrels toward the dense foliage beside the trail. ‘Come out of there or I’ll blow your fucking head off! ’
    Abilene heard a gasp, but couldn’t see anyone through the green tangle.
    ‘Come out!’
    ‘Don’t shoot! Don’t.’
    The head of a teenaged boy rose into view. Abilene recognized his long dark hair, the almost pretty features of his smooth face. He was the kid they’d seen yesterday in the pool, the kid who’d fled into the woods.
    Helen’s killer?
    Abilene pictured her friend sprawled dead in the showerroom.
    She pulled Batty’s knife from the sheath at her hip.
    The kid’s terrified eyes stayed on Cora as he came out from behind the bushes.
    He was shirtless and skinny, wearing cut-off blue jeans low on his hips. The jeans, too big for him, were held up by a couple of ropes that came down from his shoulders like suspenders.
    His stomach was smudged with bruises. Had Helen done that to him? Punched him as she struggled for her life?
    Halting in front of Cora, he shook his head. ‘I didn’t do nothin’,’ he said. ‘Ya ain’t gonna shoot me, are ya?’
    ‘More than likely,’ Cora said.
    ‘No, please! It weren’t me. I didn’t touch her!’
    ‘Oh you bastard,’ Abilene muttered. The kid’s head jerked sideways. He looked at her. She saw his eyes lower to her breasts but she didn’t care. ‘You killed her. You butchered Helen, you filthy maggot.’
    ‘No! It weren’t me! ’ He shook his head wildly from side to side. ‘My brother done it! He’s crazy, my brother. I didn’t do nothin’ but try ’n scare ya off!’
    ‘Bullshit,’ Abilene said.
    ‘I swear it! I swear it!’ Facing Cora, he blurted, ‘Don’t shoot… hey.’ His mouth fell open. He ducked his head close to the muzzles and squinted. ‘Them barrels is all plugged up,’ he said.
    ‘Ya go and shoot me, the whole gun’s gonna blow up, more ’n likely.’
    Cora frowned. She glanced at Abilene.
    The kid drove an arm forward, pounding his hand against the double muzzles, ramming the shotgun hard against Cora’s shoulder.
    The blow knocked her backward. The barrels swung toward the sky. Even as she tried to catch herself with her right leg and cried out, Abilene knew she was going down.
    The kid bolted, looking over his shoulder at Abilene. She was rushing him before Cora hit the ground.
    He raced into the field.
    Abilene sprinted after him, flinging her legs out long and quick, pumping her arms, the blade of Batty’s knife flashing beside her face each time her right arm shot up. In seconds, she was wheezing for breath. Her muscles burned.
    The kid got farther and farther away from her.
    And he was running along the edge of the field, not across it, not fleeing toward the lodge. He’d been watching. He knew that Finley and Vivian were in that direction.
    Abilene looked toward the corner of the lodge.
    No Finley, no Vivian.
    Where are they?
    He’s gonna get away!
    Turning her head forward again, she fixed her eyes on the kid’s gleaming back. He was fifteen, twenty feet ahead of her. Closing in on the woods at the corner of the field.
    Can’t let him.
    Can’t let him get away.
    He killed Helen.
    Abilene staggered to a halt. She turned the knife around and clamped the blade tight between her thumb and the curled side of her forefinger. She cocked it back over her shoulder and threw it.
    Not a chance, she thought.
    But she knew she couldn’t chase him down.
    The knife tumbled end over end. At first, it seemed to be whipping straight for the kid’s head. That’s where she had aimed, figuring that even if she wasn’t good enough to make the blade stick, the handle might at least connect and stun him.
    But the knife began to drop.
    Gonna fall short.
    Expecting it to hit the ground behind him, Abilene wanted to be there fast to retrieve it. She forced herself to run. And only took a single stride before the blade sank deep into the back of the kid’s left thigh. He twitched and cried ‘Yeeah!’ His leg jumped upward instead of striding out. He dived at the ground as if sliding head first for a base.
    He reached around. He grabbed the knife. He yanked it out of his leg an instant before Abilene smashed down on his back. He grunted under the impact. Abilene hooked one arm across his throat and squeezed. Her other arm stretched out sideways and grabbed the wrist of his knife hand. She tried to keep it pinned to the ground as she choked him.
    He bucked and writhed, slippery beneath her. He shook his head. He dug his chin into her forearm. He shoved himself upward with his right arm. Abilene felt his body rise and tilt. Starting to slide, she swung a leg over his hip.
    Together, they rolled. He came down on top of her. Though she could barely breathe under his weight, she kept her grip on his knife hand and tried to tighten her stranglehold. She hooked her legs over his.
    When he shoved her arm away from his throat, she jammed her mouth against the back of his head. His hair was wet and oily, so thick that she thought she might not get through it. But her teeth found his scalp.
    He yelped and let go and drove his elbow down. It smacked into her just below the armpit. At the shock of pain, her mouth sprang open. He got his head away from her teeth, but she clutched his throat again. The elbow punched her a second time. And he kept on pumping it down, pounding her side. Each blow seemed to steal more of her strength.
    She was helpless to stop him when the kid pushed her arm away from his throat, freed his knife hand from her grip, kicked his legs out from under hers and rolled off.
    She lay on her back, struggling for air.
    He got to his hands and knees. The knife in his left hand was pressed against the ground. He was gasping just as hard as Abilene. Raising his head, he looked at her through cords of wet hair that had fallen over his face.
    ‘I… didn’t… do it,’ he panted.
    He suddenly raised his head higher. His face, red and dripping behind the strands of hair, twisted with despair.
    Abilene could guess why.
    She wondered if she had enough energy to turn her head so she could watch Finley and Vivian racing to her rescue.
    She was still thinking about it when the kid scurried to her side and pressed the knife blade against her throat.
    
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
    
    On his knees by Abilene’s shoulder, hunched over her and holding the knife against her throat, the kid stared up at Finley and Vivian. They halted just on the other side of Abilene.
    Finley had the old, rust-speckled knife in one hand, a water bottle in the other. Vivian was holding Abilene’s moccasins and a plaid blouse.
    ‘Go away,’ the kid said. ‘Leave me be.’
    Finley dropped the knife. ‘Just take it easy.’
    ‘Where’s Cora?’ Vivian asked.
    ‘She’s… okay,’ Abilene gasped.
    ‘I only just wanta go home,’ the kid said. ‘I never hurt no one.’

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