Depraved (27 page)

“Thought you was on your way into town, girl?”

Abby shrugged. “I am. Just thought I’d take a peek at the Colliers’ contribution to this year’s feast.”

Keith stopped a few feet from her. He laughed. “That fat thing? Colliers ain’t too picky, huh? Guess they can’t afford to be after last year.”

Abby smiled and moved closer. She tugged at the front of his shirt with her fingers and looked up into his eyes. “So what are you up to, boy? Come to check on me?”

Keith put a hand on her ass. “Yeah. Didn’t hear the Plymouth start up and thought you might need some help.” He pulled her close and she felt his erection pressing against her belly. She slid a hand between them and massaged the swollen crotch of his jeans.“Mmm…damn, maybe you should forget about that beer and come on inside. I’ve thought about you a lot since that one time. Always wanted to get with you again.”

“That so?” Abby forced a note of playfulness into her voice. “Maybe you should go on inside and get Lorelei warmed up for me. I really wanna go get that beer. We’ll have more fun if we can party, too.”

Keith laughed. “Hell, Lorelei’s already warmed up. Big-time warmed up. She’s the one sent me out here, you wanna know the truth. Wants you to come in and do some dirty shit with us.”

Abby wanted to scream at him.

Why wouldn’t he just go away?

She felt a mounting desperation until an abrupt flash of inspiration hit her. She smiled and tugged at Keith’s shirt again. “Okay. I’m pretty fuckin’ horny myself. Got
all turned on seein’ what the Colliers done to that girl. Let’s do some stuff to her before we go inside.”

Keith grinned. “I like the sound of that. Let’s check her out.”

He let go of her and walked toward the shack. Abby hurried after him, keeping a nervous eye on the narrow space between the edge of the open door and the shack’s dark interior. Abby hoped they’d been listening inside. Hoped Michelle would know what to do. Keith gripped the edge of the door and began to pull it open

She knew he would be frowning now.“Hey…What’s going—?”

She kicked the back of his left knee as hard as she could and he folded up, toppled into the shack. Michelle pounced on him. The hunting knife plunged into his back up to the hilt. She drew it out and slammed it in again two more times. Lisa knelt next to his twitching body and slammed a brick into the back of his head, something she’d found in the heaped-up stacks of junk in the shack. The brick came down again and again, making a pulpy mess of Keith’s skull. It was over in minutes. The man was dead. But Lorelei was still inside. She would begin to wonder about Keith’s prolonged absence and come to investigate.

She put a hand on Michelle’s trembling shoulder. “It’s done. We have to go. Now.”

Michelle stood up. Lisa dropped the blood-stained brick and struggled to her feet as well. Abby kept a wary eye on the cabin as they hurried over to the Plymouth. The lights were still on, but she saw no shadows in the windows. Chances were they hadn’t been observed. Which was lucky. If they’d been seen, Lorelei would be coming at them with a hunting rifle about now. She tugged open the passenger’s-side door and slipped into the shotgun seat. Lisa shoved the seat back—harder than
necessary, really—and slithered into the back. Michelle got in on the other side and situated herself behind the high steering wheel before gently pulling the door shut. She glanced at Abby, mouthed a silent prayer, and inserted the key in the ignition. The car started on the first try.

Abby breathed a sigh of relief and pointed across Michelle’s lap to a narrow gap in the trees.“That way.”

Michelle set the bloody hunting knife on the dashboard and put the car in gear. The Plymouth bounced and shuddered over the uneven ground. Michelle turned the headlights on a moment before steering the car through the narrow gap in the trees. She glanced at Abby.“Where do we go from here?”

“Just follow this trail for about a mile and a half. It’ll curve and wind around some, but you won’t have to turn anywhere until then.”

Michelle nodded, but didn’t say anything.

They drove in silence along the dark trail for several minutes, their progress slow due to the way the trail shifted and constricted, narrowing to almost impassable widths at times. The headlights illuminated an eerie forest scene: tightly grouped trees and low branches that looked like groping tendrils emerging from the dark. At one point, the headlights revealed a deer standing in the “road.” It bounded back into the woods as they came close. Another time they saw an old man sitting on a stump. He was alone and didn’t even look their way as they passed him.

Michelle shivered.“That old dude was creepy.”

Lisa leaned over the seat. “This whole fucking place is creepy. Can’t we go any faster?”

Abby imagined wrapping her hands around Lisa’s thick neck. She knew how the flesh would feel beneath her tightening fingers. Knew how her breath would dwindle to a thin, reedy wheeze, and then just stop. Thinking about it made her smile.

“Here.” She looked at Michelle. “See the gap coming up on your right? The trail forks away there. Go another half mile and you’ll reach an actual road.”

Michelle leaned forward to peer over the steering wheel.“I see it.”

She steered the car through the gap, and sure enough they arrived at an actual paved road a short while after. Michelle stared at the road, eyes flicking left and right. “Which way now?”

Abby nodded to the left.“That way. You’ll go a couple miles before reaching an intersection. A left turn there would sooner or later take you into Hopkins Bend proper. Turn right and go down a good ways and you’ll eventually see signs directing you to the interstate.”

Michelle smiled.“Well, shit. We’re really getting out of here then. Thank you, Abby.”

Abby’s cheeks flushed. She hoped Michelle would kiss her now. Let the fat bitch in back stew on that.“Ain’t no need to thank me. I’m just glad—”

Michelle lifted the hunting knife off the dashboard and brought it around in a savage, backhanded arc. The blade plunged deep into Abby’s stomach. Abby gaped uncomprehendingly at the handle protruding from her flesh for a moment. Michelle’s slender fingers flexed around the handle. The pain hit her, and she gasped. A rising whine emanated from her open mouth as she lifted her head to look at Michelle. She felt blood rushing fast from the wound and knew she was dying. She just didn’t know why. Couldn’t understand how this could be happening. She had trusted Michelle. Had taken great risks on her behalf. Had saved her life and the life of her friend. The depth of betrayal was beyond quantifying.

Michelle held her gaze for a long moment.

Her face was cold. Devoid of pity or compassion.

She gave the knife a hard twist and yanked it out.

Abby screamed.

Michelle adjusted the gearshift and got out of the car to circle around to the passenger’s side. The door came open and Abby felt a sigh of cool air against her trembling, sweat-sheened skin. Michelle reached into the car and grabbed her by an arm. Then she hauled Abby out and dumped her on the ground. She rolled onto her back and saw Michelle staring down at her. Warm saliva splashed her face.

Abby’s breath hitched.

She clutched at her stomach and whined again.

A sneer tugged at a corner of Michelle’s mouth.“I really am grateful, Abby. It took guts to get us out of there. But make no mistake, you’re a fucking monster. You tortured me. You burned me.” Her voice was quaking now. “You deserve to die alone in the dark. Besides, you were never meant to leave this place. Deep inside, you know that.”

Michelle turned away from her then and got back inside the car. Abby was crying by the time she heard the doors thunk shut. They were really leaving her here. They had stabbed her and were leaving her. Her dreams of a different and better life somewhere far from Hopkins Bend were as dead as her body soon would be.

The Plymouth’s engine revved.

Then it turned left onto the road, shot forward, and sped away.

Abby stared after the dwindling taillights until they disappeared.

The pain abruptly crescendoed and made her scream again, a sound that seemed to tear apart the night. The sound rose and rose…and then just stopped. And the pain started to fade. Abby knew she had only minutes left. If that. She opened her eyes and saw stars through the trees. And something else.

An old man was standing over her.

The same man they’d seen sitting on that stump.

He knelt next to her and grinned.

She managed a question:“Who…are you?”

He laughed.“Me? I’m Evan Maynard.”

Abby’s vision blurred. She shook her head weakly and squinted at the wrinkled face staring down at her. What he said made no sense, but the man did resemble pictures she’d seen of a younger Evan.“But…you’re…”

“Dead?”

A thin trickle of blood leaked from a corner of her mouth. She tried to clear her throat without much success.“Then you’re a…ghost?”

“You could say that.”

Abby coughed and more blood dribbled down the side of her face.“I’m…dying.”

The apparition stroked its chin. Its grin had faded, displaced by a more solemn expression. “That’s right. And that’s why you can see me.”

Abby’s brow creased.“Those girls. They saw you, too.”

Evan’s grin reappeared. “They did, indeed. And ain’t that somethin’?”

Abby’s vision blurred again, and the world went away for a while. Couldn’t have been long. A few seconds, maybe. Certainly no more than a minute or so. But when her eyes opened again, the ghost of Evan Maynard was gone. And maybe he’d never been there at all. Weren’t people said to hallucinate when they were on the brink of death? But Abby didn’t believe she’d hallucinated. She was sure the old moonshiner and smuggler had come to visit her. She wasn’t sure why. He’d died long before she was born. Maybe it was some lingering sense of family duty. Perhaps he attended to all the Maynards in their last moments. Or maybe she was special somehow. Either way, it would remain a mystery until she too had passed to the other side, which should be any minute now.

Some unidentifiable impulse caused her to roll onto her side. The effort triggered another whiplash of pain, but she gritted her teeth and rolled again, until she was lying facedown in the dirt. The gash in her belly leaked blood on the ground. She placed her palms flat against the ground and let loose a roar of pain as she struggled to her hands and knees. She stayed there a moment as thin threads of blood spilled from each corner of her mouth. Then she roared again and surged to her feet. She wobbled and turned in a slow circle before staggering into the woods. She bounced off trees and swiped at branches with one hand while she held the other over the wound.

Why am I doing this?

It made no sense to her. She knew there was no hope. She should lie down and know a last few moments of peace before the eternal darkness took her. But she kept going, driven ahead by the same mysterious impulse that had caused her to get up and start moving in the first place. She still didn’t understand it, but it felt important somehow. Some unconscious part of her believed there was someplace important she had to get to before she died. She walked and walked, she didn’t know how long. Seemed forever. This was some amazing reserve of strength she’d tapped, especially considering the ferocious wound inflicted upon her. Her legs felt like rubber, but still she kept forging ahead.

Then the world went fuzzy again.

When things came back into focus, she was down on one knee and on the verge of falling over. But she grabbed at a tree and pulled herself upright, the rough bark of the tree gouging her palm. She leaned against the tree for a brief moment, just long enough to gather the last of her strength. Then she shoved herself away from the tree and continued on through the woods. At last the trees began to thin, and she glimpsed something lit by moonlight.

Mama…

She plunged into the clearing and staggered on toward Mama Weeks’s tiny cabin. A last weak spark of hope flared in her. The old woman was a seer. A mystic. Some even said she was a witch. Maybe she could heal her. But when she reached the cabin and thumped the base of a fist against the front door, it opened at her touch and swung inward with a loud creak. Abby stumbled into darkness.

“Mama…” Her voice was weak, a mere whisper. “Please help…”

There was no light inside.

Mama wasn’t here.

Abby sobbed and felt despair again.

Why did I come here?

Her thigh bumped against the seer’s rickety table and she toppled over, landing painfully on her side on the floor. She rolled onto her back and stared up at the shadow-cloaked ceiling. A dangling charm was just visible through the slant of moonlight coming through the open door. An animal skull adorned with beads. Its lower jawbone dropped open, and the voice of her father said,“Good night, Abby. Time to sleep.”

Abby smiled. “Daddy…”

She closed her eyes. This time she didn’t open them.

When Cassie Weeks returned to her cabin the next day, she was unsurprised to see Abby Maynard dead on the floor. She had seen…
possibilities
during her talk with Abby. A couple of ways things could go. This had been one of them. She wished she’d warned the girl, but had let her go in hopes fate would turn the other way and grant her the happy life somewhere else that she’d desperately desired.

But the poor girl’s chance had been dashed.

It had existed, though, at least for a short time. That was
something. And she was at peace now. Mama could feel it. She dragged Abby’s body outside, where she dumped it in the hole she’d paid a Kincher boy ten dollars to dig a week ago. She shoveled dirt on top of the body and went back inside.

She sat at the table and smoked hash.

After a time, she laid her head on the table and wept.

Getting out of the Sin Den turned out to be a lot easier than Megan had expected. Helga told her Carl would poke his head in at some point to see how his guests were doing, and sure enough he did. The door opened some fifteen minutes after Helga’s shooting spree ended, and Carl came waltzing inside in his usual cocky way, a crooked grin etched across his gaunt features. The grin froze when he saw the bullet-riddled bodies splayed on the red-carpeted floor, the corpses’ glassy eyes staring up blankly at the spinning mirror ball. By then he was several feet into the room and trapped. Megan saw alarm dawn in his dark eyes the moment before he spun back toward the door.

Helga was blocking the way out.

She shut the door and stood with her back to it, the dead cop’s gun aimed at his face. “Hello, Carl. Surprise, surprise.”

Carl stared at her a moment.

Then he screamed at the top of his lungs:“MONROE! SHIT’S FUCKED UP! COME HELP ME!”

Megan tensed and stared at the door, expecting it
to burst open any second and send Helga tumbling to the floor. But several moments passed and that didn’t happen. Helga’s lips curved in a wide smile. “Monroe’s not coming, idiot.” Helga laughed.“Soundproofed room, remember? Tell me, Carl, how’s it feel to be trapped by something of your own design?” Another laugh. “Now that’s what I call Karma, baby.”

Carl seethed. His arms hung at his sides,fingers clenching and unclenching. The muscles in his neck were sharply defined. “You fucking whore. You just signed your death warrant.”

Helga came away from the door and put the barrel of the gun against his chest. “I don’t think so, you ugly fuck. But you will definitely be just as dead as these assholes if you don’t listen to every word I say and do exactly what I tell you.”

Carl’s attitude changed the moment he felt the deadly steel pressed against his flesh. His posture changed and his fingers stopped clenching. And he listened in attentive silence as Helga laid things out for him. When she finished talking, he meekly agreed to perform as instructed. Of course he did. His only other choice was death. Megan’s excitement had skyrocketed while listening to Helga. She was now sure there was a real chance she would escape the Sin Den, whereas only a short while ago she’d been sure she would spend the rest of her days here. Suddenly galvanized, she slid off the divan and knelt over the corpse of the black cop. She flipped open his suit coat and saw a shoulder rig. She undid the holster’s snap and pulled the gun out.

Helga looked over at her and smiled. “Honey, I appreciate your eagerness to help, but how are you planning to conceal that?”

Megan glanced down at the tight bustier and frowned. “Huh. Didn’t think of that.”

Helga was still smiling.“It’s okay. We’re only gonna need the one.” She jabbed the gun in her hand against Carl, making him stagger back a step.“A 9 mm magazine holds ten bullets. I’ve only used three. That leaves plenty to kill Carl stone-cold dead if he misbehaves or gives me reason to think he’s somehow signaling his lackeys on the way out of this cesspool.”

Carl was trembling now.“I—I w-won’t do that.”

Helga’s expression turned solemn. “I know you won’t. Because you’re not stupid. And you know I mean what I fucking say. So listen to me again. I don’t want you mumbling like that or looking scared as we leave. You hear me?”

Carl took a deep breath and nodded.“Yeah. Okay.”

Megan set the gun down with some reluctance and stood up.

Helga moved into position next to Carl and leaned against him. She slid the hand holding the gun up under his shirt and glanced over her shoulder at Megan.“Amber, be a dear and get the door for us, okay?”

“My name’s not Amber. It’s Megan.”

Helga laughed. “Girlfriend, do you think my real name is Helga Von Trammpe? That’s Trammpe, spelled t-r-a-m-m-p-e, by the way. Madeline came up with that after the first time I trampled a guy on stage.”

“So what’s your real name?”

Helga smirked. “You know what, I like the stage name better, so let’s stick with that. And as for you, I’ll keep calling you Amber until we come up with a better moniker for you.”

Megan shrugged.“Whatever.”

She went to the door and drew in a steadying breath before opening it. Her hand shook slightly as she gripped the knob and turned it. She tensed again as she pulled the door open, but there was no one standing right outside.
She stepped aside and let Helga and Carl walk through the door first. Then she followed them into the hallway and closed the door behind her. She sucked in a startled breath when she saw the big bodyguard who’d accompanied her with Carl on the way to theVIP room.

Helga squealed in fake delight. “Monroe, you sexy thing. Wanna party with us?”

The whole of Monroe’s attention was focused on Helga’s bare breasts. Too bad for him. He didn’t notice when she pulled the gun out from under Carl’s shirt. He saw it an instant before she pointed it at his face and squeezed the trigger. Megan grimaced at the sight of the bullet punching through his eye. The sound was loud in the hallway, but no one came to investigate. They paused a few moments longer while Helga had Carl drag the dead man out of the way. Then they resumed their former positions and went through the big metal door and down the stairs into the still-bustling Sin Den. They walked through the bar, acknowledging waves and catcalls with little nods and smiles. Carl was stopped a time or two by associates and spoke convincingly about taking the girls home for a private party. Each time he was asked why he was taking white girls with him, given his preference for darker-skinned beauties, but Carl brushed it off by saying he’d been wanting to mix things up for a while. Then they were out of the bar and heading for the main entrance at the front of the building, where they encountered one last obstacle.

Val was standing outside the door, leaning against a Harley Davidson motorcycle and smoking a cigarette. She looked like a female James Dean in her black leather jacket and slicked-back, shiny hair. “Yo, Carl. That girl.” She nodded at Megan. “I’ll buy her outright from you. I can lay my hands on twenty grand tomorrow if you’ll take a thousand-dollar down payment tonight.”

Carl turned slightly to look at her, taking care not to jostle Helga. “Get that twenty grand and she’s yours tomorrow. But tonight she’s mine, and that ain’t open to negotiation.”

Val squinted. “Since when do you like vanilla pussy?”

“Since about the time the one you want gave me the best blow job of my goddamn life. You wouldn’t believe the things she can do with her mouth.”

Val blew out a stream of smoke. “You’re killin’ me, Carl.”

Carl laughed. “Tomorrow, Val. The anticipation will make it even better. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

He turned away from her and began to walk with Helga into the parking lot. Megan followed at a close distance. She glanced back once and saw Val staring after her. The woman made a V with her fingers and put them to her mouth. Then she stuck her tongue out and wiggled it around. Megan turned away from her and began to walk faster, catching up to Helga and Carl as they reached a late-model black Porsche.

Carl opened the driver’s-side door and they got inside, with Carl behind the wheel and Helga in the shotgun seat. Megan slid into the backseat and pulled the door shut behind her. She started feeling anxious again as Carl started the car and backed out of his parking space. She looked out the window and took a look around, expecting to see burly Sin Den employees with guns closing fast on the car, but the only person she saw was Val, still leaning against the motorcycle and staring at them. Then Carl shifted gears, and they began to drive out of the lot. Megan stared through the back window at the Sin Den and the blinking neon sign in the form of a woman in high heels. It was a big building, and the large parking lot was packed. It still seemed surreal that so illicit an operation could be doing such gangbuster business out here in the middle
of nowhere. Even more surreal was how she’d entered that place and walked out again all in the same day. She watched it dwindle and disappear as the car left the lot and started down a narrow dirt road.

I’m free
, she thought.
I can go back to my life.

She started to smile, but thought of something that sobered her instantly. She turned around and stared at the back of Carl’s head.

“There’s one more thing.”

Helga glanced back at her. “What are you talking about, girl?”

Megan nodded at Carl. “Earlier today that guy and some other assholes took my boyfriend and threw him into a van. I want to know what happened to him.”

Helga’s pretty features hardened. She pointed the gun at him again.“Tell her.”

Carl looked at the rearview mirror.“He’s at my house. Maybe a little worse for the wear, but he should be okay.”

Megan looked at Helga.“I want to go get him.”

Helga was still looking at Carl. “How hard would it be to get Megan’s man out of there? I know you don’t live alone.”

Carl shrugged.“Shouldn’t be a problem. He’s in a cage out back. Won’t even have to go in the house.”

Helga nodded. “Okay. So let’s do this. We’ll swing by asshole here’s house, grab your man, then get out of here and never see this fucking place again.”

Megan thought of the suddenly very real possibility that she would be seeing Pete again soon and felt a lightening of spirit that almost made her cry. Some part of her—a big part—had been sure he was dead or lost to her forever.“That sounds wonderful.”

Carl fidgeted behind the steering wheel.“What about me? You’re plannin’ to kill me, I bet.”

Helga shook her head.“Play straight with us and don’t try to fuck us over, and that won’t happen. We’ll tie you up or something before we leave.”

Carl squinted at her.“You ain’t bullshittin’ me?”

“Nope.”

“Okay then.”

Carl seemed to settle down then and faced forward for the rest of the ride out of the woods. In a little while they were on a paved road and zipping along through the lonely rural night. Megan stared through the windows at the dark blur of trees passing by and decided she would spend the rest of her life in the city. The hell with this back-to-nature crap she’d been so keen on before. She’d told that castrated deputy her views on a lot of things would be changing if she somehow survived this. Well, it was true. She was also going to buy a gun and carry it with her wherever she went from now on. Her friends wouldn’t know what to think.

They’d been driving maybe fifteen to twenty minutes by the time they arrived at Carl’s house. It was a big ranch-style place. There were lights on inside and floodlights on outside. Megan sat up straighter as they drove down the dirt driveway. She looked out a window and saw the blue van Pete had been tossed into earlier. Carl parked beside it and shut the Porsche’s engine off.

Helga waved the gun at him.“Okay, out. And no funny shit. Don’t think I won’t shoot you in the back if you try to run.”

“Oh, hell, I know you would.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

They all got out of the car and eased the doors shut. Helga stayed close to Carl and kept the gun at his back as they circled around the house to the back. Megan cringed at the sound of dogs barking and howling. Something had agitated them to the point of absolute
frenzy. She remembered what Carl had said about Pete being in a cage out back and wondered if they had locked him in with the dogs. Her fear for Pete’s safety came back magnified a thousandfold. She wanted to ask Carl about it, but the dogs were so loud. It occurred to her to wonder why the other people here weren’t doing anything to shush them. Her skin prickled with goose bumps and her heart raced as they came around the house and saw the rows of dog pens and cages. The dogs saw them and their frenzy increased. Some of them threw themselves against the chain-link fencing. Then Megan saw that one gate was standing open, and her heart jumped into her throat. There was a body sprawled at the back of the otherwise-empty space. She kicked her heels off and took off running, passing Carl and Helga as she sprinted toward the cage. It had to be the one they’d put Pete in. There were no people in the others. And this guy, even from a distance, you could tell was dead. Megan’s eyes filled with tears as she rushed into the cage and stared down at the body.

It wasn’t Pete.

Now the tears in her eyes were tears of joy.

The dead man was one of his abductors. He had his pants down around his ankles. That was weird. Pete must have killed him. But where was he now?

She heard a scream followed by a wail of anguish.

Then Carl was next to her, kneeling over the body. “No, no, no, no! Johnny!”

Helga stepped up behind him and put the gun to his head. She squeezed the trigger and an eruption of blood and brains splattered the body on the ground. Carl toppled forward, joining his brother in death. Helga looked at Megan and shrugged.“So I lied to a bad guy. Big deal.”

Megan looked at her.“Pete’s not here.”

They turned away from the dead men to stare at the
house. There were lights on in almost every room, but no sign of activity. Helga stepped out of the big platform heels and clasped hands with Megan. “Come on. We’ll find him.”

They walked out of the cage and across the lawn to the back of the house. A short set of steps led to a back door. Like the cage, the door was standing open. They climbed the steps and entered the house. Megan’s nose wrinkled at the smell of burned meat. Someone had cooked something in here very recently. Then they were through the door and in a dining space, where they came to a dead stop. Megan squeezed Helga’s hand hard in an effort to keep from fainting.

Helga squeezed back and leaned against her. “Oh…sweet Lord…”

Megan shook her head in futile denial. “No. No. What? What? How?”

What was left of the body of a very large man was splayed across the top of a metal table. She belatedly recognized the dead man as the fat man who’d participated in Pete’s abduction. There was a chain saw on the floor. It had been used to saw off all of the man’s limbs. His belly had been opened, and there was a big, bloody wound at his crotch. There was another body on the floor. A scrawny woman. She had been scalped. Big strips of flesh had been flayed from her thighs and arms. Megan’s eyes flicked to ceramic plates set on a round dining table. Her stomach rolled. Someone had butchered this woman and cooked her flesh. And then had…
eaten
it.