Body Rides (79 page)

‘Are you kidding? Not a chance.’

‘Well,’ Sue said, ‘they ain’t here yet. We better do something.’

‘I wish we had a silencer.’

‘I’ve seen ’em use pillows and stuff in the movies. How about if we shoot him through a sofa cushion? One of us can run into the living room right there, and . . .’

‘No splitting up,’ Marta said.

‘’Course, if we got us a pillow we wouldn’t have to shoot him. Just smother him with it.’

‘Who needs a pillow, then? Why not strangle him with our bare hands?’

‘Better still,’ Sue said, ‘we got us a pool right here. Why not drown him like a rat?’

‘Drown him like Rasputin.’

‘Yeah!’

‘Give me the gun,’ Marta said. ‘I’ll cover him. You take his boots off.’

After passing the pistol to Marta, Sue squatted at Glitt’s feet, tugged off his right boot, and flung it behind her. Marta kept her eyes on Glitt, but heard the boot splash into the pool. A few seconds later, his left boot followed.

Glitt never moved, never made a sound.

‘Put his feet together,’ Marta said.

While Sue shoved his feet toward each other, Marta clamped the pistol under her right armpit. Then she used her left hand to unbuckle her belt. She spread her legs to keep the shorts from falling down, and whipped the belt out of its loops around the waist of her shorts.

‘Take this,’ she said.

Sue looked over her shoulder, nodded, and grabbed the dangling belt.

‘Strap his feet together.’

Marta drew the pistol out from under her arm and aimed it at Glitt while Sue bound his ankles together.

‘Okay, now let’s drag . . .’

Roaring, Glitt pulled the knife out of his chest and sat up.

Sue yelled, ‘AH!’

Marta yelled, ‘SHIT!’

Glitt slashed at Sue. Lurching back on her knees to escape the blade, she lost her balance. As she fell backward, Marta fired. A moment later, Sue tumbled against her shins.

Marta stumbled backward, jerking the trigger again and again. Her shorts dropped. The pistol jumped in her hand, quick shots slamming through the silence, muzzle flashes lighting the night. Bullets punched into Glitt. He twitched as they hit him, but he was still sitting up, knife in hand, when Marta, tripped by the shorts around her ankles, tumbled backward off the edge of the pool.

Sue, on her back with her knees in the air, heard a tremendous thudding splash and knew that Marta had fallen in. She raised her
head. Framed by the V of her spread legs, Glitt sat just beyond her feet. He held his knife high like a mountain man about to attack a grizzly. But he didn’t move. Water rained down on Sue, obscuring her view of Glitt and drenching her.

A couple of seconds later, the shower stopped.

Sue blinked water out of her eyes.

Glitt still sat there and didn’t move.

If he’s dead, how come he just keeps sittin up?

’
Cause he ain’t dead. Just playin possum, waitin for a good chance to lay me open
.

She bolted up and leaned forward hard, reaching with straight arms between her legs, stretching, going for the belt. With her right hand, she grabbed the buckle. With her left, she grabbed Glitt’s right ankle. Then she flung herself back.

He skidded toward her on his rump.

Yer mine!

She scurried and squirmed her way backward, dragging him.

All the way, he remained sitting up, motionless, his knife raised – like some sort of weird, wax dummy of a wild murderer scooting on his ass toward a corner of Madame Tussaud’s.

The way he looked gave Sue goosebumps.

But she kept on dragging him.

From behind came quiet, splashy sounds. Gasping sounds of Marta catching breaths.

‘Stay back!’ Sue yelled.

Feeling the edge of the pool under her rump, she gave Glitt’s feet a last mighty pull and tumbled.

She saw herself facing the Man in the Moon.

He looked pale and astonished.

Marta shouted, ‘No!’

A moment later, Sue’s back smacked the surface of the pool. The cool water spread open, took her in, closed down over her. The moon dimmed and rippled. Then she heard a muffled splashing sound.

As Sue started to fall backward off the edge of the pool, her feet
flying up, Marta saw Glitt on the other side of them. Thinking he was about to plunge the big knife down and bury it between Sue’s legs, she yelled, ‘No!’

But Glitt didn’t strike. Just sat there as if frozen.

At the same moment as Sue’s back struck the water, his rump dropped off the pool’s edge. He plummeted. Marta heard a thunk when the edge caught the back of his head. His head jerked forward as if kicked from behind.

Then he disappeared into the black water.

Except for his right hand.

He held the knife out of the water. Its dripping blade gleamed like silver in the moonlight.

Get that knife away from him!

As Marta went for it, the upthrust hand and knife turned and began gliding toward the deep end of the pool. She held off. She stared.

No sign of Sue or Glitt.

Just the hand, cut off at its wrist by the black surface of the water, taking its knife on a voyage. The wrist glided silently. Behind it was a wake of shiny ripples.

He can’t be alive! Why doesn’t he drop the knife?

He
must
be alive, Marta told herself.

He doesn’t drop the knife because he still has uses for it
.

She pictured Sue down below, towing him by his feet.

He’s just waiting for the right time
.

Marta swam in from the rear. Both her hands were empty; she’d been holding Neal’s pistol in her left, and her stabbed right hand had been wrapped with his shirt. The pistol and shirt were lost.

She reached out with both hands.

Her right grabbed Glitt around the wrist. Pain erupted from her wound. She hissed, but held on.

Her left clamped the top of Glitt’s fist and wrenched it sideways.

It twisted
easily
.

It twisted too easily, and too far. Marta heard crackly sounds.

She opened the limp fingers and took the knife.

He’s dead. Must be
.

But what if he isn’t?

That’s his big trick, making people think he’s dead when he isn’t
.

Marta let go of Glitt’s wrist. His empty hand glided along, fingers drooping.

She switched the knife to her right hand, gritted her teeth against the pain as she clenched it, then took a deep breath and went down.

Under the water, she was blind.

She reached out with her left hand.

When she found Glitt’s hair, she grabbed it. She pulled herself forward. But couldn’t find the rest of him. Not at first. The water beneath his head felt empty until she leaned backward and brought her legs up.

She realized that he must still be in a sitting position.

She matched it. Felt his shirt against her breasts, the slippery seat of his leather pants against her lap, his leather legs against her thighs.

Sorry, Sue. I don’t mean to scare you
,

She spread her legs, raised them, hooked her feet over the top of Glitt’s knees, and thrust downward.

She met resistance.

But not from Glitt; she was sure of that.

The resistance came from Sue, struggling to keep her grip on his ankles.

Marta won.

With Glitt straightened out and latched fast against her body, she punched the knife into his belly. She split him open from belt to chest. Then she slashed his throat.

They climbed out of the pool and stood side by side on its edge. Water ran down their bodies. Gasping for breath, they gazed at the black surface. Its ripples flashed moonlight.

There was no sign of Glitt.

‘Ya think we done him in?’ Sue asked.

‘If he makes it through this,’ Marta said, ‘we’ll start calling him Lazarus.’

‘We better get goin.’

‘Yeah.’

But they didn’t move. They stayed on the edge and watched the pool. Marta held the knife in her left hand. Her right hand dripped blood onto the concrete by her feet.

‘He’s a goner,’ Sue said after a while.

‘I’d say so.’

‘We better get goin. The cops’re gonna show up.’

‘Yeah. But I dropped Neal’s gun in there.’

‘So?’

‘I have to get it,’ Marta said.

‘No, ya don’t. What’re they gonna do, arrest him?’

‘I just don’t want to leave it behind. Anyway, we might need it some time.’

Sue scowled down at the pool. ‘But
he’s
in there. We can’t even
see
him. What if he grabs ya?’

‘He won’t,’ Marta said, and jumped off the edge. Water splashed up, then rained down on her. Standing in the chest-high water, she began to feel around the tile bottom with her feet.

‘If Glitt grabs ya,’ Sue said, ‘don’t go blamin me.’

‘I won’t.’

‘Back in a sec,’ she said, and hurried off.

Marta continued searching for the pistol, wandering this way and that, sliding her feet around.

Suddenly, the pool lights came on.

Glitt, his bandaged head almost touching her knees, gazed up at Marta through the clear bright water. His wild bush of beard swayed gently in the currents. His teeth were bared as if he’d died snarling, ready to bite. The ragged red edges of the slash across his throat shivered as if stirred by a soft wind.

Marta saw bullet holes in the front of his black shirt. And she saw where she’d sliced him up the middle – guts bulged out through the split.

Though startled to find him so close to her, she hadn’t screamed. She’d flinched and gasped. Then, unable to look away from him, she’d moaned.

She didn’t scream until his left arm swept up from under his side and he thrust the pliers up through the water, their jaws spread.

Screaming, Marta bashed his head with her knee and flung herself backward.

The steel jaws of the pliers clashed shut an inch in front of her left nipple.

Then Marta lost her footing. She fell and went under, but only for a moment. Terrified of Glitt coming for her, she planted her feet on the pool floor and stood up fast.

Glitt was down near the bottom, face up, a couple of yards away.

Sue lurched to a halt on the edge of the pool. ‘What happened? Y’all right?’

‘He tried for me.’

‘Good thing I turned on the lights, huh? He might’ve got ya.’ Bending over slightly, Sue stared down at him. ‘He sure looks crumped.’

Marta moved closer to him.

His ankles remained bound together by the belt. But his arms were now stretched out away from his sides. Both hands were empty.

The pliers lay on the bottom of the pool. They were shiny in the lights. They appeared to waver and wobble as if made of flimsy rubber.

Beside the pliers, also wavering, was Neal’s automatic.

‘Watch him,’ Marta said. Then she ducked under the water and grabbed the pistol. She came up quickly. Glitt looked as if he hadn’t moved. She stepped to the pool’s edge and reached the weapon up to Sue.

As Sue took hold of it, Marta said, ‘Go to the garage and get the axe. I changed my mind.’

After they finished with Glitt, they shoved his body back into the pool. Water burst up and splashed them. Sue picked up his head by its hair. She swung it underhand and let go. It flew high over the pool, tumbling.

It didn’t splash.

It went too far and landed on the other side, hitting the concrete with a nasty
thonk
.

Sue muttered, ‘Oops.’

They both watched the head roll to a stop.

Then they squatted over the pool and washed their hands in the water.

When they were done, Sue used the front of her shirt to wipe the handles of the knife and axe.

Marta picked up Neal’s pistol and shorts. She dropped the pistol into one of the big front pockets. But she didn’t bother putting on the shorts. ‘Okay,’ she said.

‘Ready?’ Sue asked.

‘Yeah, let’s beat it.’