Now that I seemed to be safe from a surprise attack, I went over to the counter and picked up the steaks. They were still frozen, but seemed to have a slight springiness. Maybe my body heat had quickened the thawing process.

I thought about giving Steve the treatment.

But that might wake him up. True, I wanted to get things over with as soon as possible. But if Steve would do me the favor of staying out cold for a while, I could take care of a few matters on my own.

I placed the steaks in the platter of teryaki sauce, turned them over, then washed my hands at the sink.

I wanted to wash my whole body. Even though I’d already done a quick job with some paper towels, I felt incredibly filthy—itchy and sticky from such items as sweat and teryaki sauce and Steve’s spittle and blood.

A bath or shower would have to wait.

But now that I had some free time, I went to the kitchen sink, set the saber down on the counter within easy reach, and held a dish towel under the faucet. When the towel was heavy with cold water, I turned around to watch Steve, and mopped myself with the sopping cloth. The water just seemed to flood me. It felt heavenly. It ran all down my body and made a puddle around my feet.

With a fresh dish towel, I dried myself and wiped up the puddle.

I felt so much better!

I felt like celebrating with a drink. Of course, the pitcher of margarita was on the table out by the pool, and I didn’t dare go after it. The makings were still on the kitchen counter, though. So I took down a clean glass, tossed in a couple of ice cubes, and poured myself some tequila.

I hopped up and sat on the counter. I was wearing nothing, of course, except my thong panties. The tiles were cool and smooth under my rump.

I took a sip of the gold tequila. It felt cool in my mouth, then seemed to scald my throat and stomach.

I said, “Ahhh.”

It is astonishing—and maybe one of life’s quiet miracles—how much better every situation becomes as soon as you find a chance to clean up, have a good drink and relax. You might still be in an awful pickle, but you feel so much better, regardless.

It also helps if you’re alone. With Elroy dead and Steve unconscious, I was alone for all intents and purposes. There was nobody to contend with, nobody who needed to be lied to, tricked or fought. It was such a relief.

I just sat there on the counter with my feet dangling, kept a general eye on Steve, and enjoyed my drink. I’d already knocked down a couple of margaritas. They hadn’t been nearly as soothing, though, as the tequila.

Soon, I was feeling fine and lazy.

I wished I could lie down for a nap, but that was out of the question.

I needed activity to keep from drowsing off, so I hopped down from the counter. I set aside my empty glass, picked up the saber and both the dish towels, and went over to Steve. Crouching by his head, I set down the saber. Then I used the wet towel to clean him up. As I wiped the blood off him, I kept a sharp watch for any sign that he might be coming awake.

There was none.

With the same wet towel, I mopped the blood off the floor. This required several trips to the sink and back, but didn’t take terribly long. Anyway, it was something to do while I waited.

Next, I folded the other dish towel into a square pad, and placed it against the wounds on top of Steve’s head. With long strips of strapping tape (which I cut with the saber), I fastened down its corners to his ears and the sides of his face. It made him look stupid. Which was fine with me.

Pigs deserve to look stupid.

With the mess cleaned up and Steve bandaged, I felt free to relax again. But I was hungrier than ever.

Over at the counter, I checked the steaks. Nearly thawed out, they felt springy and firm, but stiff in the center.

Why wait any longer? I thought. You can’t barbecue them on the grill, anyway. Not unless Steve comes to about now.

Well, I could drag him outside.

Right. No way.

I tossed some more ice cubes into my glass, added more gold tequila, took a sip, and sighed.

Squatting and duck-walking, I searched one cupboard after another until I found Serena’s wok. I took it to the stove and set it on a burner. Then I hunted out her vegetable oil. I poured some into the wok, turned the burner on, and spent the next couple of minutes cutting the two steaks into bitesized chunks.

Naturally, I took time out, every half a minute or so, to make sure Steve hadn’t moved.

I tossed the two bones into the waste basket beside the stove.

By the time I managed to find Serena’s wooden stirring spoon, the oil in the wok seemed good and hot.

I poured in the meat and teryaki sauce.

Hiss, sizzle, spit, spatter!

“Shit!” I yelped and leaped away, my belly and breasts stinging with a thousand pin-pricks of fire. My skin glittered with specks of oil.

Here’s a cooking tip: never stir-fry topless.

Except for a few moments of amazing pain, no real damage was done.

The wok no longer seemed to be erupting, so after a glance at Steve, I picked up the wooden spoon and started to stir the mixture of oil, teryaki sauce, and chunks of steak.

If they cooked too long, they’d be tough. So I counted to sixty in my head a couple of times while I continued to stir. Then I shut off the burner, hurried over to a cupboard and snatched down a couple of dinner plates.

I piled about the same amount of steak teryaki onto each plate. Which seemed pretty generous, considering Steve’s treatment of me. Also considering it would probably be cold and ruined by the time he might get around to eating it.

I set aside Steve’s dinner, then found myself a fork and hopped up onto the counter. The counter made a fine seat. Not only did it feel cool and smooth under me, but I liked having the elevation. Perched up there, I had an excellent view of Steve. And I could jump down and run over to him in about a second if I had to.

With the plate resting on my lap, I sipped my tequila and ate the tasty chunks of steak. There should’ve been a bed of those crispy, squiggly Chinese noodles underneath the meat and sauce. That would’ve been great, but I hadn’t thought of it. At this point, I didn’t want to bother hunting for the noodles.

I wished I hadn’t thought of them, though. It’s a lousy thing, when you’re eating fabulous steak teryaki, to ruin it by worrying about the noodles that might’ve been.

Forget about the noodles! Relish the meal you’ve got!

Words to live by.

Hey, have you ever noticed how much better food tastes when you’re a little tipsy? For some reason, aromas and flavors seem so much more wonderful than when you’re completely sober. If you’re not a drinker, you’re really missing a treat.

Of course, you’re also missing the aftermath, where you feel crummy and may vomit.

I guess it’s a toss-up.

Done with my meal, I hopped off the counter. I rinsed my plate and fork at the sink, and stowed them away in Serena’s dishwasher. Then I had a little dab more tequila. When the glass was empty, I filled it with cold water and took a good, long drink.

Now what?

Steve was still out cold, and I’d run out of things to keep me busy.

Try to wake him up?

I refilled my glass with water, then added a few ice cubes. Taking the saber along, I walked over to the chair that I’d placed over Steve’s torso. I sat down on it, my feet on the floor just above his shoulders, and rested the saber across my lap. Then I leaned forward and peered down between my knees.

He looked asleep.

“Steve?” I asked.

He didn’t move.

I gave his shoulder a nudge with my foot. Still no response.

If he’s going to stay out cold…

Instead of dumping the glassful of water onto his face, I drank it. When nothing was left except for a few ice cubes, I bent way down and set the empty glass on Steve’s forehead.

Then I settled back, sliding my rump toward the front edge of the chair. I stretched out my legs, folded my hands down low on my belly, shut my eyes and let my head droop forward.

I know, I know, I know. I had to be crazy to try and take a nap under these circumstances.

But I was so damn worn out by then. I’d had too much excitement, too much stress, too much strenuous activity, too little sleep, and maybe a smidgen too much tequila.

And I figured that Steve was no great threat. Even if he should wake up before me, he was pinned under the chair with his legs bound together and a glass resting precariously on his forehead. He had a slim chance of taking me by surprise.

He might get the upper hand, but it didn’t seem likely.

It wasn’t likely enough to worry me.

Or keep me awake.

After positioning myself for the nap, I must’ve stayed awake, worrying, for about five seconds. If that.

This was a straight-backed, wooden chair without a seat pad, but I zonked right away. Which tells you how badly I needed some sleep.

I was dead to the world.

Until the noise of bursting glass shocked me awake in the near-dark room and the chair lurched, throwing me off.



50


THE AWAKENING


Earthquake!

That was my first thought. I’d been through some bad ones. They nearly always hit while you’re asleep, roaring and shaking you furiously and scaring the crap out of you.

Falling sideways, I was halfway to the floor when I figured out this wasn’t any quake.

This was Steve.

My right shoulder hit the floor, and I rolled. Rolled and tumbled as fast as I could, hanging on to the saber. The chair toppled over. Part of it pounded my back, but not very hard.

Clear of Steve and the chair, I scrambled to my feet.

He was already sitting up, but still trying to free his feet from the electrical cord.

“Stop!” I shouted.

He looked up and saw me coming at him.

Even though the kitchen was dim with the gloom of dusk, I must’ve been quite a sight charging across the kitchen in nothing but my panties, my breasts leaping, my saber high.

One glimpse of me, and Steve let out a yelp.

He quit fooling with the cord and stuck up his hands. “I give!” he yelled. “Don’t do it! Please!”

I slid to a halt beside him. Still holding the saber overhead with both hands, I said, “Lie down and don’t move.”

He sank backward until he was stretched out flat.

Never turning away from him, I sidestepped to the nearest light switch. I flicked it up and brightness filled the kitchen.

As I approached Steve, he lifted his head off the floor. He winced and flinched, but didn’t take his eyes off me. Fingering the dish towel that I’d taped to the top of his head, he asked, “What’s…going on?”

“I won, that’s what.”

“I don’t remember.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“What happened to my head?”

I shook the saber.

“You chopped my head open? Oh, my God!”

“Don’t blow a gasket,” I said. “I just gave you a few raps with the handle, that’s all. If I’d used the blade, you wouldn’t be asking me questions about it. Lie still, and I’ll take care of your feet.”

“Okay,” he muttered.

“I’m not even gonna warn you about trying something.”

He eased his head down against the floor.

With the saber in my right hand ready to strike him, I squatted near his feet and used my left hand to unwind the cord. “As long as you cooperate with me, you’ll be fine.”

“I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Good. I went ahead and ate, by the way. I couldn’t wait for you.”

“That’s okay.”

“But I saved you some.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

When his feet were no longer bound together, I stood up and backed away, the end of the cord in my left hand.

He pushed himself up to his elbows, looked, and saw how I’d fashioned a tether for his left ankle. “Cute,” he said.

“It’ll let you get around.”

“I guess so.” Meeting my eyes, he said, “I can’t say that I blame you for not trusting me.”

I laughed at him. Then I said, “Get up and come over here.”

He made it to his feet, and I led him over to the counter where his plate was waiting. I was careful not to let him get close to me.

“Where do you want me to eat it?” he asked.

“Right there.”

“What about a fork?”

“So you can stab me with it? Use your fingers.”

He started to pick up the plate.

“Put it down,” I said. “Leave it on the counter.”

He set it down. Then, bending over, he started picking up pieces of steak one at a time. He got a couple into his mouth before he really started chewing. “Mmm,” he said. He shoved more in. “Good.”

“I know it’s not human, but it’s the best I could do on short notice.”

“That was Milo’s gig,” he said. The words came out mushy because of the meat in his mouth. “Not mine.”

“You don’t eat people?”

Grinning over his shoulder, he said, “Not that way.”

“Very funny.”

“He was nuts. Milo.”

“He was your mentor.”

“Yeah, but he was a fuckin’ cannibal. I’m no cannibal. Shit, he did all kinds of weird stuff. Not me.”

“Not you. Sure.”

“This is really good steak. Really delicious.”

“You should’ve had it when it was still hot.”

“Well. Can’t have everything.” He shoved more into his mouth.

“I want to hear the rest of your story,” I told him.

“What do you want to know?”

“You said you watched me in your camp last night. When I took care of Milo and stuff. And then, after I left, you killed Judy. Then what?”

“Did I say that?” He gave me another grin. His lips were shiny with steak juice. “I don’t believe I said anything about killing Judy.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“If I said that, I must’ve been mistaken.”

I felt a strange, fluttery tightness inside. I don’t know quite what it was. Hope? Fear? Excitement? In some ways, I wanted Judy to be dead. She was a loose end. She could get me in big trouble. But in other ways…Hell, I liked her.

“You didn’t kill her?” I asked.

“No, no, absolutely not.”

“Bad choice of words, pal.”

“Huh?”

“‘Absolutely not.’ Makes me you think you’re lying.”

“Oh. Jeez. I see what you mean. Protesting too much, huh?”

“What did happen after I left?”

He shoved a couple more chunks of steak into his mouth, chewed for a minute, and said, “How about something to drink?”

“The sink’s right there,” I said.

“A glass?”

“Use your hand.”

So he sidestepped to the sink, ran some water, cupped his hand under the faucet and took a few drinks.

“What about Judy?” I asked.

He slurped some more water out of his hand, and said, “What about her?”

“If you didn’t kill her, what happened to her after I left?”

Steve sighed, wiped his wet hand across his lips, then shut off the faucet and turned around and grinned at me. “I cut her down.”

“You cut her down?”

“The ropes, the ropes. I freed her from the ropes from which she was so cruelly hanging, thanks to you.”

“I didn’t do that to her.”

“But you didn’t cut her down.”

I didn’t need to be reminded of that.

“Are you done eating?” I asked.

“No!” Losing his grin, he turned away and hurried over to his plate and stuffed more steak into his mouth.

“Okay,” I said. “So what happened after you…took her down from the ropes?”

“Plenty.”

“Tell me.”

“Fucked the daylights out of her, for starters.”

I struck him hard across the ass with the flat of the saber blade. He shrieked and arched his back and clutched his buttocks. For a while, he stood there gasping for air. Then he bent forward a little and braced his hands on the counter top. I could see him shaking.

“You forgot who has the sword,” I told him.

“You asked…”

“I didn’t like your answer. I don’t want to hear about that stuff. What else happened?”

“We…we buried the bodies. Milo and Marilyn.”

“Where’d this Marilyn come from, anyway?”

“The tent. Milo had her in the tent.”

“Where’d she come from? Is she from around here? Did you catch her in Miller’s Woods?”

“Huh? No. We grabbed her when we were on the road.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Well, we spotted her at a gas station. That was a few days ago, when we were up north. We’d stopped for a fill-up, and there she was, pumping gas into her Toyota. A real babe. She wore these short shorts…” He glanced back at me and at the saber. Then he went on. “Anyway, we followed her when she left the station. We wanted her to rear-end us, so we got ahead of her, then slowed down. This Marilyn was impatient, so she tailgated us, trying to get us to speed up or pull over. A real bitch move. So then, when we came to a place where nobody was around, Milo suddenly stomped on the brakes. Wham! She rear-ended us. Well, we all got out to check the damage and exchange information. And that’s when we snatched her. We threw her into the back of the van, I jumped in with her, and Milo drove off.”

“You have a van?” I asked.

“Sure. You’ve gotta have a van.”

“Where is it?”

“Oh, we’ve got it hidden in the woods. Not too far from a road, but far enough so it’s out of sight.”

“So you brought Marilyn here to the woods?”

“Right. And put up our camp and had ourselves…” He gave the saber an uneasy glance. “We kept her as our guest in the camp for a couple of days, and then she died.”

“Died, huh?”

“Well, Milo cut her throat.”

“Milo, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“How many other people have you two killed?”

“Between the two of us? Quite a few. I couldn’t say for sure.”

“How long were you together?”

“Milo and me?”

“Yeah. Traveling around in your van, killing people.”

“A couple of years.”

“My God.”

He grinned at me. “Just doing some population control. Environmentally speaking, over-population is a real…”

“Shut up.”

“Sorry.” He faced forward again.

“So what happened,” I asked, “after you and Judy dug the graves last night?”

“Nothing. Well, we threw Milo and Marilyn in and covered them with dirt, of course. Then we went to sleep. That’s all.” Reaching out, he picked up a single piece of steak. He looked at me, then stuck it into his mouth and started to chew.

“But you came back here today,” I told him. “What’d you do with Judy when you left camp? Where is she?”

“Still there…in camp.”

“Alive?”

He nodded.

“Tied up?”

He grunted, then said, “Tied and gagged. In the tent.”

“And in what condition?”

“Fine. She’s fine.”

“She can’t be fine.”

I didn’t hurt her.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“Not much.” He leered over his shoulder at me. “I’d be glad to take you to her.”

“Not interested,” I said.

“Sure you are. You’re very interested.”

“You know what I want?”

“Judy.”

“No. I want this house cleaned up. I want you to haul Elroy’s body out—and get his head out of the pool. Then we’ll take a little trip. You buried Milo and Marilyn somewhere near your camp?”

He nodded and stuffed more steak into his mouth.

“You have shovels?”

“Sure. Tools of the trade. Got a couple of them.”

“Okay. Then I guess we will go to camp. You can bury Elroy there with the others.”

“And you can have a nice reunion with Judy.”



51


TEAMWORK


“Cut it out about Judy,” I said.

“Whatever you say. You’re the boss.”

“Finish up with the food. We’ve gotta get on with this.”

He stuffed the last three or four pieces of steak into his mouth. Chewing, his sidestepped to the sink.

“You raped her, huh?” I asked.

He made a garbled sound.

“What?” I asked.

He shook his head and continued to chew. Then he ran the faucet, leaned forward and cupped water into his mouth like before. When the faucet was off, he stood up straight. He wiped his mouth. Then he turned around to face me. “I thought you didn’t want me to talk about Judy.”

“Yeah. You’re right. I don’t. Never mind.”

“Anyway, I didn’t rape her.”

“But you said…”

“I said we fucked. I didn’t say anything about rape. A rape requires force or coercion. She was quite willing. After all, I’d cut her down. You should’ve cut her down. Maybe you would’ve gotten lucky.”

“Okay, that’s enough. Let’s go find Elroy. You lead the way.”

Holding the end of the cord in one hand, the saber in the other, I followed Steve out of the kitchen. The rest of the house was pretty dark. As we walked through the foyer, I switched a light on.

“How long have you been here today?” I asked.

“Oh, I arrived around noon. Hoping to find you sunning yourself by the pool like yesterday. I was severely disappointed.”

“How did you get in?”

“Sliding doors are a cinch.”

He turned to the left and stepped into the guest bathroom. Now that he was no longer blocking my view, I saw a trail of blood drops on the hallway carpet. Steve must’ve made them carrying Elroy’s head from the bathroom to the den. The trail was sure to continue on through the den.

Entering the bathroom, I said, “Nice job on the carpet.” And then I saw the mess near the toilet. “Oh, my God.”

Steve grinned and shrugged. “What can I say? He made a nice splatter pattern. Could’ve been a lot worse, though. At least he fell into the tub.”

I walked closer to Steve, sidestepped to see past him, and spotted Elroy in the bathtub.

My memory flashed an image of Murphy, also dead in a tub. Rub-a-dub dub, two men in a tub…

Unlike Murphy, Elroy had his clothes on. And he wasn’t sitting sideways in the tub, feet sticking out. He probably had been crooked, since he’d fallen from a standing position in front of the toilet. But now he was stretched out on his back, feet toward the drain. His penis was hanging out the open fly of his trousers. His blood-soaked shirt was still tucked in, and his bow-tie, no longer blue, was still in place at the throat of his shirt. Above the bow-tie, he had a ragged stump of neck.

“You want me to pick him up?” Steve asked.

“That’s the idea.”

“And do what with him?”

“Get him out of the house, for starters.”

“He’s bound to drip, you know.”

“Run the shower on him,” I said. “That’ll get the worst of the blood off.”

“Aye-aye, ma’am.” Steve stepped to the foot of the tub, started the shower spraying down onto Elroy, then slid the plastic curtain shut.

“We need something to put him in,” I said.

“A couple of plastic garbage bags should do the trick.”

“Those’d be out in the garage.”

“No problem.”

“Yeah, it’s a problem,” I said. “I’m not taking you all the way out there just to get some garbage bags.”

“Afraid I’ll make a break for it?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, we could get a sandwich baggie from the kitchen and put it on his stump.”

“Very funny,” I said. But his suggestion made me realize that, if the shower did its job, we really didn’t need to worry about blood from anywhere except Elroy’s neck.

So we marched back to the kitchen. I instructed Steve where to look, and he found Serena’s roll of cellophane wrap in the cupboard underneath the sink.

We returned to the bathroom.

While I held the saber and my end of the cord, Steve shut off the shower. He slid open the curtain, stepped into the tub, and got to work on Elroy.

First, he raised the body to a sitting position. Then he removed Elroy’s bow-tie and opened the top two buttons of his shirt. After that, he tore off a foot-long section of plastic wrap and draped it over Elroy’s neck stump. He squeezed it down firmly so it clung to the raw stuff inside. Finally, he tucked the edges of the cellophane underneath Elroy’s shirt collar to hold the wrapping snug.

“That should do the trick,” he said.

“I think so,” I agreed.

The shower had done a fine job cleaning the blood off Elroy and his clothes. The white shirt was badly stained, but it wouldn’t be dripping blood on the way out. With the neck stump secure, he was ready to move.

“Okay,” I said. “Now pick him up and let’s get him out of the house.”

Steve looked at me and raised his eyebrows. “Are you going to lend a hand?”

“No.”

“But you’re so good at body handling.”

“I’ve retired,” I said. “You killed him, you carry him.”

“What a sweetheart.”

“That’s me. Let’s get going.”

Squatting behind Elroy’s back, he reached beneath the arms, hugged him around the chest, and lifted.

As Steve hauled Elroy out of the tub, I backed away, giving him plenty of slack with the electric cord. Then I waited while he struggled to find the best way to carry the body. He ended up cradling Elroy in his arms the way you see guys carry their brides over the threshold in movies.

“Ready?” I asked.

“All set,” he said. “You ready, Elroy?”

“Cut out the funny stuff,” I said. “He was a nice guy.”

“Give me a break. He was a pain in the ass. You couldn’t stand him.”

“Maybe so, but you shouldn’t have killed him.”

Smirking, he said, “You made me do it. I would chop the heads off an army to get my hands on you.”

“Go to hell,” I said.

Then I led us out of the bathroom. “We’ll take him out the front door,” I said, turning and moving backward for the foyer. As I walked, I watched Elroy. He dripped onto the carpet, but only water—so far as I could tell. The cellophane on his neck seemed to be working fine. “We’ll put him in his car and drive him to the woods.”

“Now, that’s a good idea. I was afraid you might make me walk.”

“Can’t leave his car here, anyway. We’ll park it at the picnic area, and you can carry him the rest of the way to the camp.”

I opened the front door, glanced outside to make sure the coast was clear, then stepped out of the way. Turning sideways, Steve carried Elroy past me. I left the door open (since I had no keys on me) and followed them across the lawn to the driveway.

“You’d better put him in the trunk,” I said.

Nodding, Steve trudged to the rear of Elroy’s car. “How do we unlock it?” he asked.

“Use his keys,” I suggested. “They’re probably in a pocket of his pants.”

“How about coming over here and finding them for me?”

“Thanks, but no thanks. Do I look that stupid?”

“I won’t try anything,” he said.

“I’m sure I believe you. Just put him down and get the keys yourself.”

He started to crouch, then apparently changed his mind. Instead of lowering Elroy onto the driveway, he eased the body down on the trunk of the car. Then he patted both front pockets of the trousers. I heard keys jingle.

The body started to slip, so Steve halted it with one hand. Holding it still, he shoved his other hand into the right front pocket. A moment later, he came out with a key case.

He tossed it to me and said, “Catch.”

It sailed toward my left shoulder.

In my left hand, I held the end of the cord that led to his ankle.

I clutched the cord more tightly, and didn’t go for the keys.

The leather case smacked me below my left shoulder, slid down my breast and fell to the grass.

“Nice catch,” he said.

“Nice try,” I told him.

He laughed softly. Then he said, “I know it’s asking a lot, but if I pick up your friend and move out of the way, would you be kind enough to unlock the trunk for us?”

“No.”

“Please? Pretty please with sugar?”

“Which hand do you want me to use for the keys?” I asked. “The one with the saber in it, or the one with the cord in it?”

“Either would be fine,” he said.

“I’m sure.”

“You know what? I’ve got a terrific idea. Why don’t we simply dispense with the cord altogether? In fact, why not forget this entire captive routine and work as a team?”

“You’re dreaming.”

“Let’s be partners from now on. How about it? It would make life so much easier for both of us if we start working together instead of fighting each other.”

“Only one problem with that,” I said. “I’d turn up raped and dead.”

“No, no, no. Don’t be ridiculous. I wouldn’t hurt my partner.”

“Forget about it. Come over here and pick up the keys.” I gave the cord a couple of quick tugs.

“Okay, okay.” Leaving Elroy on the car’s trunk, Steve came toward me. I backed away. “I know you want me,” he said. “You should’ve seen the look on your face last night when I was up against the door. You wanted to be the door. Not to mention in the kitchen tonight when I licked the teryaki off your incredible, luscious body…”

“Just shut up and grab the keys.”

He squatted, reached forward into the grass, and picked up the key case. Staying low, he gazed at me and said, “You want me, I want you. We’d be great together. We could go off tonight…Hell, we could leave Elroy here and drive away right now. I’ll take you to my van, and we’ll hit the roads. We’ll leave all this behind. What do you say?”

“Eat shit and die.”

Laughing, he stood up. “That’s what I love about you. You’re so tough. And you’ve got a sense of humor. Not to mention your killer figure.”

“He’s slipping,” I said.

“Huh?”

“Elroy.”

Steve looked over his shoulder just in time to watch Elroy’s body slide off the car’s trunk and tumble onto the driveway. Facing me again, he shook his head, smiled, and said, “All the guys fall for you.”



52


HEAD GAMES


It worked out well. With Elroy sprawled on the driveway, Steve was spared the extra chore of lifting him off the trunk.

I waited near the side of the car while Steve unlocked the trunk. As the lid swung up, he stuffed the keys into a front pocket of his shorts. Then he turned around, picked up Elroy, carried him over to the trunk and dropped him in. The car squeaked and rocked a little. Steve slammed the lid shut.

“Shall we be off?” he asked.

“Not quite yet,” I said. “We’re missing something.”

He grinned. “I suppose we’d forget Elroy’s head if it weren’t attached.”

“Let’s go get it.”

Worried that Steve might try to shut me out of the house, I stayed ahead of him, walking backward all the way to the front door.

I’d liked it better when he had his arms full.

In the foyer, I said, “Let’s make a stop in the kitchen, first.”

For that, I let him take the lead.

As we entered the kitchen, he warned, “Careful of the broken glass.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“You’re welcome. What are partners for?”

I stepped around the glass. “We’re not partners.”

“Maybe not yet. But soon.”

“Yeah, sure.” I spotted my own keys near the end of the counter, exactly where I’d left them after coming into the house with Elroy. “Step over to the right,” I said.

Steve followed instructions. When he was out of my way, I walked toward the counter.

“Need your keys?” he asked.

I didn’t bother to answer.

“Which hand will you pick them up with?” he asked. “The one with the cord, or the one with the sword?”

“This may work,” I said. Then I tucked the plug under my right armpit. I clamped my upper arm tightly against my side to hold it there. “Now if the cord gets away from me,” I said, “I’ll just have to chop your head off.”

“Hey, we’re a team,” he said. “Get your keys. I won’t try anything.”

Watching him closely, I sidestepped to the counter and used my left hand to pick up the key case.

He watched me closely as I slipped the case down inside the front of my panties. The leather felt smooth and cool. “Lucky keys,” he muttered.

“Shut up,” I said. “Let’s go get Elroy’s head.”

Being careful again to avoid the broken glass on the floor, we left the kitchen. From there, we had several possible ways of getting to the pool. I decided on the den door, mostly because I wanted to inspect the carpet damage.

The trail of blood started at the doorway of the guest bathroom and dribbled along the hall toward the den. Not great quantities of blood, but enough. Too much.

“I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do about these stains,” I said, walking a few paces behind Steve. “They aren’t going to clean up. Damn you, anyway. I’ve been cleaning up after myself ever since last night. I’ve covered up everything. I’ve worn myself out, cleaning up and covering up and…What am I gonna do about this? There’s no way to make all these blood stains go away, you bastard.”

“Replace the carpet,” Steve suggested.

“Yeah, sure. You think my friends wouldn’t notice a new carpet?”

He grinned over his shoulder. “Come away with me, and it won’t matter.”

“No way.”

He entered the den. I followed him, pausing long enough to hit a light switch with my elbow. A lamp came on, and I saw the dribble of blood leading to the den’s sliding door. “I guess I could tell them I got cut and it’s my blood.”

“Excellent idea. You have such fine ideas. That’s one of the things I love about you, darling. Along with your…”

“Shove it.”

“So sorry.”

“Why’d you have do that with his head, anyway?” I asked.

“Cut it off, you mean?”

“And carry it through the house and roll it at me.”

He chuckled. “I was hoping to bowl you over.”

“You’re a sick fuck,” I said.

“I’m a splendid fuck, as you’ll soon learn.”

“Yeah? Has hell frozen over?”

As Steve neared the sliding door, I quickened my pace. I was about one stride behind him by the time he stepped outside.

I glimpsed the stains he’d put on the glass last night.

Then I stepped out, let him walk ahead, and gave the cord a sharp pull. Its other end jerked his left leg backward. Yelping with alarm, he fell headlong onto the concrete. He caught himself with his hands, but seemed to land fairly hard.

“Just another guy falling for me,” I remarked.

On his hands and knees, he looked back at me. I suspect he might’ve been scowling, but I couldn’t see much of his expression because of the darkness.

“That’s a lousy way to treat your partner,” he said, pushing himself up.

“Knock off the partner crap.”

“If you say so.”

“We aren’t partners. We’ll never be partners.”

“We’re already accomplices,” he said. “In the eyes of the law.”

“I don’t plan for the eyes of the law to look in my direction. So just shut up about the eyes of the law and get in that pool and find Elroy’s head.”

“All right. Partner.” Steve took a few steps and halted at the edge of the swimming pool. Then he stood there, slowly turning his head.

Pretty soon, he said, “Oh, my.”

“What?”

“It’s gotten dark.”

“I noticed.”

“I can’t seem to locate the head.”

“It’s down there someplace.”

“Does the pool have lights?”

“Give me a break,” I said. Stepping closer to the edge, myself, I looked down into the water. It might’ve been a pool of black ink.

“Do you see his head?” Steve asked.

“No.”

“I suggest we try the lights.”

We didn’t seem to have much choice. “Okay,” I said. “They’re over here. Come on.” I gave the cord a small tug.

“Don’t do that.”

“I’ll do whatever I want. Let’s go.”

“Where?”

Using the saber, I pointed out the electrical panel on the wall behind the outdoor table. “You first,” I said.

He started toward it, and I stayed a few strides behind him, giving the cord plenty of slack.

The bag of tortilla chips and the margarita pitcher were still on the table.

“Shall we take a break for cocktails?” Steve asked.

“Keep going. Don’t touch that pitcher.”

“How about this?” he asked. Stepping around the table, he scooped up my bra with his bare right foot. It draped his foot like a huge red mask, flopping about but not falling off as he kept on walking. “Of course,” he said, “I prefer you without it.”

“Big surprise. You made me take it off.”

“But I’ll let you have it, now.”

“Don’t bother.”

He stopped at the electrical panel and flicked a couple of switches.

Lights suddenly flooded the patio. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw that the pool lights had come on, too. “That’ll do it,” I said.

“Excellent,” Steve said. Turning around, he swung up his foot and flipped the bra at me.

I snagged it out of the air with the saber. It slid down the blade until it met the crosspiece. “Thanks,” I muttered.

“Aren’t you going to put it on?”

“Maybe later.”

“It does look like your hands are full,” Steve said. “Would you like me to lend you a hand?”

“Let’s go get the head.”

I backed out of his way. He walked past me.

As I followed him, I lowered the saber. My bra slid down its blade and fell off. I stepped over it.

At the edge of the pool, I stood a couple of yards to Steve’s left. The water was brightly lighted, and looked pale blue because of the pool’s blue tiles. The hot night breeze ruffled its surface.

“Thar she blows!” he called out, and pointed.

Elroy’s head had dropped into the pool at the shallow end. But it hadn’t stayed there. It had wandered to the deep end, where it now rested under about twelve feet of water. It seemed to be face-down as if giving the drain a close inspection.

“Now we have a problem,” Steve said.

“Do we?”

“Who goes down for it?”

“You do.”

“Well, I don’t believe the cord is long enough. Not if you’re planning to stand here and hold it.”

“We’ll see. Move over that way,” I told him, and gestured to the right with my saber. “We’ll get as close as we can.”

We both walked along the edge until Steve was adjacent to Elroy’s head.

“We’re still not close enough,” he said. “The cord’s too short.”

“Go anyway.”

“If you say so.” With that, he suddenly dived off the edge.

Before he even hit the water, I was leaping out. I held the saber high in my right hand, the end of the cord low in my left. Feet first, I plunged deep.

Through a frothy curtain of bubbles, I saw Steve trying for the bottom. He was in front of me and lower in the water, nearly vertical, kicking and reaching. His shorts had almost come off in the dive. You could see a few inches of his butt crack. From neck to rump, his skin looked very pale and stark and wavery in the underwater lights.

Near his left ankle, his kicking flung the cord this way and that. But he still had slack.

And he still had slack when his right hand thrust down and clutched Elroy by the hair. Hanging on to the head, he curved away from the bottom and began to rise.

Which is when I tried to come up.

And couldn’t.

For one thing, the saber weighed me down. For another, I held the cord in one hand and the saber in the other, leaving no hand free to paddle at the water. Though I struggled to kick my way to the surface, I didn’t seem to be making any progress.

I didn’t panic, though.

I was in no danger of drowning.

Before letting that happen, I would empty my hands and swim to safety.

But what kind of safety would it be if I left the saber at the bottom of the pool?

Just let go of the cord, I told myself.

But I kept my grip on it.

You’ve gotta let go!

Can’t! He’ll get away!

Suddenly the cord jerked and nearly flew out of my hand. I squeezed hard and kept hold of it by the plug.

The cord began to tow me through the water.



53


THE GETAWAY


Above me but still below the surface, Steve was swimming toward the shallow end of the pool. He must’ve known he was pulling me along behind him, but he didn’t do anything about it.

He had no idea, I’m sure, that he was helping me.

If he’d known, he would’ve stayed in the deep water. That would’ve forced me to drop the cord or the saber or both.

But he towed me to safety.

Just when I was starting to ache for a breath of air, the bottom of the pool suddenly sloped up sharply under me. I tried to lower my legs and stand up. I couldn’t manage it, though, with Steve still pulling me forward.

Then he stopped.

I planted my feet on the tile bottom and burst out of the water, gasping for breath and thrusting my saber high. I blinked my eyes clear.

I was standing in water high enough to touch the undersides of my breasts. Ahead of me, Steve turned around in water up to his waist.

The light shimmered on his slim body. He hadn’t lost his shorts, but they were down below the pool’s surface. So was Elroy’s head. They wavered and undulated the way things do when they’re under water.

“Have a nice ride?” he asked.

“Yeah, thanks.”

He lifted Elroy’s head by its hair. It came up looking at me, water spilling down its face, its eyes and mouth wide open.

When the head was level with Steve’s shoulders, he changed his hold on it. He put his left hand under the pulpy neck to act as a platform. Then his right hand let go of the hair and gripped the back of Elroy’s head.

He turned the face toward himself. “And how did you like the ride, Elroy?”

“It was just super, Stevie boy,” Steve responded on Elroy’s behalf, speaking in an enthusiastic nasal voice and moving his lips like a lousy ventriloquist.

“Cut it out,” I said.

“Stevie alweady cut if OFF, and boy did it hoit! Ouch!”

“That’s okay, Elroy,” I said, glaring at Steve. “In about two seconds, I’ll cut off Steve’s head. You’ll like that, won’t you?”

“Oh, dear me, yes! Give him a taste of steel, the bwute!”

Ignoring Elroy, Steve said to me, “You don’t want to cut off my head. Not here in the pool. Think of the mess. Aside from the blood, you’d have two heads and a body to haul out.”

“Just turn around and get moving. I want to get done with all this.”

“Aye-aye.” He started backing away from me. I followed, taking a few strides into shallower water.

The level had slipped down to my waist when he suddenly stopped and frowned at Elroy’s head. “What’s that? A secret?” He brought the head close to his ear and pretended to listen. He nodded. Then he said, “No, I’m not going to ask her that. You ask her.”

He swiveled Elroy’s head so it faced me again.

“Stop this,” I said, “and get out of the pool right now.”

“But Elroy wants to ask you something.”

“I don’t want to hear it. Get out.”

“Pwease?” Elroy begged.

“Steve!”

“I wubb you, honey. I wub you so bad. Will you wet me kiss you?”

“Shit. Knock it off, Steve. I’m warning you.” I raised the saber.

“Juss one wittow kiss on the wips?” Elroy asked.

And Steve hurled the head straight at my face.

I slashed at it, trying to knock it aside. But I swung too soon. The tip of my blade whipped across Elroy’s gaping mouth, slicing through both cheeks. His mouth jumped wide open as if he suddenly wanted to take a really big bite out of me.

I flung up my left arm in front of my face and started to twist away.

The head crashed against my forearm.

The electrical cord jerked and flew out of my hand.

The head caromed off the bottom of my arm. I looked down just as Elroy’s chin punched me in the solar plexus, snapping his mouth shut. I grunted with the sudden pain. He fell almost straight down, gazing up at me from between my breasts until he plopped into the water in front of my belly.

As he sank, I waded backward, doubling over and fighting for a breath.

I knew that I’d lost hold of the cord. But the place where Elroy had struck me is almost like your crazy bone, only worse. Blasted with pain, my main worry was staying on my feet.

Besides, I still had the saber.

And Steve wasn’t attacking me, anyway.

While I stood there, hunched over and struggling for a breath, Steve waded for the end of the pool. The shallow end had underwater stairs at the corner nearer to the house, but he ignored them and charged straight forward. He came to the wall, slapped its top with both hands and lunged up. Water sluiced down his body. His shorts dropped, baring his ass and trapping his legs from the knees down. As he tried to spring to his feet, the shorts seemed to tackle him. He let out a yelp and fell sprawling onto the concrete.

By that time, I’d had a few moments to recover.

I still couldn’t take a deep breath, but I no longer felt paralyzed by the blow.

Hunched over and gritting my teeth, I trudged toward the end of the pool.

Steve’s feet were near the edge. The cord from his left ankle dangled down into the water, and I could see its length below the surface, curling toward me like a strange, skinny snake with a three-pronged head.

Grab it!

I tried to hurry, but the water pushed at me as if it had an urgent need to keep me away from the cord. I leaned forward and kneed my way through it.

Steve flipped over onto his back. He sat up. He saw me coming.

Looking somewhat alarmed, he leaned way forward over his outstretched legs, reached to his ankle and grabbed the cord and snatched it toward him.

Under the water, it darted away from me.

I dived for it, leaping as far as I could, slamming myself down through the water, stretching out my left arm.

And got it!

Tweezed the plug between two fingers.

But then it jumped free.

My hand struck the end of the pool. I reached up out of the water, pawing for the cord, but didn’t touch it.

Fast as I could, I got my feet under me and stood up.

Blinking water from my eyes, I saw Steve staggering backward away from the pool. He held the cord in his teeth. It swayed in front of him, its other end still attached to his ankle. His hands were almost finished tugging up his shorts. His penis vanished under the waistband.

I could’ve been on him in a couple of seconds, except for the saber.

It’s hard to climb out of a pool with a sword in your hand.

I wasn’t about to let go of it, though.

I guess I could’ve gone for the stairs, but that probably would’ve taken even longer than climbing out the awkward way I did, boosting myself over the edge with the saber clutched in my right hand.

Steve never took his eyes off me. He backed farther and farther away while he watched my progress. He even took a few seconds, after his shorts were up, to tighten his belt.

As I got to my feet, he took the cord out of his teeth.

Holding it in his left hand, he whirled around and broke into a run.

“Stop!” I yelled.

Of course, he didn’t stop. Why should he?

I went after him.

We sprinted over the warm dewy grass, Steve well ahead of me. I held the saber overhead, ready to strike him down.

If I could only get close enough.

Being built like “a brick shithouse” is never a picnic. But it’s a disaster when you’re trying to chase someone. You want to be tall and slim and lithe. You want to be flat. And quick.

I didn’t stand a chance of catching Steve.

The distance between us kept stretching.

I didn’t give up, though. I stayed after him, running as hard as I could, saber waving high and breasts leaping, until he vanished into Miller’s Woods.



54


WIRES


Lowering the saber until its tip met the ground, I slouched and huffed for air and didn’t go any farther.

My lungs ached from the hard run.

My legs felt heavy, as if loaded with granite.

My heart raced like crazy.

I was drenched. A combination of sweat and pool water, probably. It spilled down my body, dribbles sliding down my skin, all over, tickling me. Drops fell from the tips of my nose and chin and breasts. I used a hand to wipe my face, but it wasn’t much help.

I was worn out.

Vulnerable.

Saber or no saber, I would’ve been easy prey for Steve if he doubled back and jumped me. I was too exhausted. And much too close to the edge of the woods.

When I’d recovered a little, I trudged backward. I was too tired to move quickly, but I put more and more distance between myself and the woods.

I wanted to lie down on the grass.

The grass would make me itchy, though.

So I kept moving, and didn’t stop until I reached the apron of the pool. There, I eased myself down and stretched out on the warm concrete. It felt awfully hard against the back of my head. It didn’t feel that great under my heels, either. Otherwise, though, it felt okay. I liked that it was solid and dry.

I held on to the saber, my right arm on the concrete by my side, the blade resting across my thigh.

This isn’t so bad, I thought. This is pretty nice.

But what do I do now?

Steve got away.

I got away.

We both escaped from each other.

After such a close call, Steve probably wouldn’t be coming back. And he wasn’t likely to tell any tales, since he’s the one who’d murdered Elroy.

Just let him go. Call it even.

What about Judy? She’d promised to keep her mouth shut about me. I couldn’t completely trust her about that, but she would probably never get a chance to do any damage. If she wasn’t dead already (and I figured she might be, even though Steve claimed otherwise), Steve would almost certainly kill her sooner or later. She knew too much. He couldn’t just let her walk away.

Maybe I can rescue her.

Yeah, right.

For one thing, you can’t exactly rescue someone who’s already dead. For another, supposing she isn’t dead, why would I want to save her? Dead gals tell no tales.

Besides, I probably wouldn’t be able to find the campsite, anyway.

And if I did, I’d end up facing Steve again.

I’d been damn lucky to survive this encounter with him. Next time, he might win.

Forget it.

Forget both of them. They’re out of the picture.

And I’m almost home free. Just a few little matters to take care of…

Such as?

Elroy’s head was still in the swimming pool, and the rest of him was locked inside the trunk of his car.

I needed to get rid of them.

Fish out the head, take it around to the car and throw it into the trunk and…

Steve’s got the keys!

Out front by the car, I’d seen him drop them into a pocket of his shorts.

Without Elroy’s keys, I wouldn’t be able to open the trunk.

Or drive his car away.

When I realized that, I suddenly went all hot and squirmy inside. I sat up. And sat there, head down, groaning.

Doesn’t it ever end?

My God, my God.

Killing Tony had been an accident!

All I ever wanted to do was get out from under it—make it go away so I could get on with my life.

It had seemed so simple, at first. Clean up the mess and drop off the body somewhere else. So simple.

But some things aren’t simple, and some things can’t be undone.

Maybe nothing can ever be undone.

That’s probably more like the truth.

Once you’ve done it, it’s been done forever and there’s no making it go away.

Because too much is attached.

You might think you’re dealing with just one matter—like Tony’s body—but then it turns out that the body has a dozen wires attached to it. Or a hundred. And every wire leads off into the unknown. One’s attached to Judy. Another to an answering machine. Another to poor Murphy. You go to cut those wires, but run into more. Elroy, for instance. And Milo and Steve. Always more wires leading off somewhere.

I guess this might sound like I’m talking about “loose strings.”

I don’t see them as strings, though. Strings are soft and you can usually break them with your bare hands. What I mean are thin, steel wires. If you try to break these with your hands, they’ll cut into you.

They’re everywhere, attached to every word out of your mouth, to your every action, to every person you encounter—and they all lead off somewhere else and drag new stuff into the picture—new stuff with wires leading off…

Sitting there by the side of the pool, I felt lost and desperate.

There has to be an end to it, somewhere!

Oh, yeah?

I’d gone through so much. I’d cut so many of those wires…A few more, and maybe I’d be free.

Fat chance.

There’ll be more. Always more.

It’s hopeless.

So what’ll you do? I asked myself. Just call it quits, take a nice bath, go to bed, pretend everything is fine?

And go out for the newspaper tomorrow morning and find Elroy’s car in the driveway?

I had to do something.

Start with Elroy’s stupid head.

I sprang to my feet. Standing at the edge of the pool, I spotted his head deep in the water, migrating toward the drain again.

After scanning the grounds to make sure Steve wasn’t sneaking toward me, I put down the saber and dived into the pool. The cold of the water shocked me. But then it felt good.

And I felt much better than before.

My despair had gone away.

Apparently, it had been shoved away by the mere act of making up my mind to get on with things.

Fuck the wires.

Take care of business.

You know the mistake I’d been making? Why I’d felt such despair a little earlier? Because I’d been looking at the Big Picture. It’s the biggest mistake you can make.

Fuck the Big Picture.

Deal with one problem at a time, take care of it, move on to the next.

That’s my advice. Take it from me, the deep thinker.

Speaking of deep, I went plunging down through about ten feet of water to reach Elroy’s head. He happened to be face up, at the time. I would’ve preferred to grab him by the hair, but it wasn’t convenient so I stuck my hand in his mouth and picked him up by the jaw.

Then I kicked for the surface. I rose at an angle, and came up close to the side of the pool. Holding the edge with one hand, I swung Elroy’s head up with the other and set it on the concrete.

I’d left the saber on the other side, so I quickly swam the width of the pool, boosted myself up and climbed out.

As one who learns from her mistakes, I didn’t attempt to swim back across. Not with the saber. Instead, I ran around to the side where I’d left Elroy’s head. I snatched it up by the hair. With the head swinging by my left side, I jogged over to the garage.

At the side door, I set down the saber. I plucked the keys out of my panties, fumbled with them until I found the right key, then unlocked the door. Inside the garage, I slipped the keys back inside my panties and hurried past my car.

I knew right where to find everything. First, I put on a pair of gardening gloves. Then I went to the cupboard where Serena and Charlie kept their box of plastic garbage bags. I pulled one bag out of the box, shook it open, and dropped Elroy’s head inside.

Unfortunately, I should’ve been holding the bag higher. Its bottom was resting against the concrete floor, so Elroy’s head didn’t have a nice, soft landing. It made such a nasty THONK! that I had to cringe.

Good thing he was already dead.

Anyway, I shut the top of the bag with its plastic drawstring, closed the cupboard, and hurried on out of the garage. I kept the gloves on.

After retrieving the saber, I ran to Elroy’s car.

I had no idea whether I would find the doors locked.

But I set down the bag and tried the driver’s door. It opened. The car’s ceiling light came on. I flicked the lock switch to make sure all the doors were unlocked, then stepped to the back door and pulled it open. I picked up the bag and swung it in. After dropping it onto the floor, I stepped back and shut the back door.

Just for the hell of it, I put down the saber and climbed into the driver’s seat to search for keys. You never know. Some people hide a spare set of keys in the glove compartment or under a floor mat or in a magnetic device underneath the dashboard.

Not Elroy, apparently.

And I had not the slightest idea about how to “hot-wire” a car. It sure looks easy in the movies. I’d tried it a couple of times in the past, though, and knew I couldn’t do it. So I didn’t bother fooling with the wires under the dash.

Unable to find any hidden keys, I used my gloved hands to wipe any areas inside the car that I might’ve touched on the ride over. Then I climbed out. I left the door unlocked, and shut it.

After picking up my saber, I hurried to the other side of the car and wiped the handle of the passenger door.

Then I whirled away from Elroy’s car and ran for the back of the house.

As fast as possible, I gathered up all my clothes. You don’t want to be leaving home on an excursion in nothing but thong panties. I carried everything over to the table. I set the saber on top of the table, its handle in easy reach. Then, keeping an eye out for Steve, I got dressed.

Jeans and a dark top would’ve been more appropriate for the next stage of my plans, but they were upstairs in my room. I was in a hurry. So I wore what I had: my red bra, my bright yellow blouse and long green skirt with the slit up the side. Also, of course, my white sneakers.

All dressed, I picked up the pitcher and treated myself to a few gulps of margarita.

I took a couple of steps toward the switch panel, intending to kill the outdoor lights. But I changed my mind and decided to leave them on. They might help me find my way back, later.

Anything else?

A flashlight? Maybe an extra weapon of some kind?

I glanced into the house through the sliding glass door.

Don’t waste any more time. Every minute counts. Get going!



55


INTO THE WOODS


Gasping for air after my sprint across the back yard, I stopped at the edge of the woods. Stopped and listened.

Steve was probably long gone.

But you never know.

He could be sneaky.

Last night, after pretending to run off, he’d circled around to the front of the house and spied on me. He’d actually bragged about it.

So I figured he might be just about anywhere.

After catching my breath and listening for a while, I entered the woods. I moved along as quickly as I dared.

No reason to sneak. If Steve was near enough to hear me tromping through the foliage, the noise wouldn’t matter because he was probably already watching me.

I hadn’t brought a flashlight, though. A little moonlight came down through the trees, speckling some areas and throwing patches of snowy brightness onto others. But mostly the forest was dark. All around me were dim shapes of gray and black.

Last time, I’d fallen plenty of times in the darkness and even crashed into that broken branch. I didn’t want any more accidents like those, so I walked fairly fast but not too fast.

I soon managed to find a trail. It was a trail I’d probably used many times in daylight. In the darkness, though, it didn’t seem familiar at all. I had only vague notions about where it might lead. All I knew for sure was that it was taking me deeper into Miller’s Woods.

Good enough.

I didn’t know how to find Steve’s campsite, anyway.

And if I somehow found it, he might not even be there. I had no guarantee that he’d returned to his camp after getting away from me.

Maybe he’d gone there, packed up…finished off Judy…and hit the road in his van.

Taking Elroy’s keys with him.

I’d be screwed.

What if I can’t get my hands on the keys?

There must be another way to get rid of Elroy’s car. That’s all I really need to do—move it out of the driveway, leave it somewhere else. Just about anywhere, so long as it’s a fair distance from Serena and Charlie’s house.

I tried to think of a way.

It helped take my mind off other things.

How heavy the saber felt, for instance. It seemed to grow heavier every minute. Now and then, I had to switch it from one hand to the other.

How hot and sweaty I was, for another instance. I’d been better off without my clothes. They kept the air away from my skin. They clung to me, and seemed to hold the heat in. I didn’t have socks on, so the shoes felt slimy under my feet.

I tried not to think about any of that, and concentrate instead on my real problem.

What’ll I do with Elroy’s car?

Can’t get it started without the key. So how…?

There must be a way.

Call a tow truck? That’d open a whole new can of worms. I’d have to contend with the driver, his company records…who knows what else? Forget that.

How else can I move it?

I’m not exactly capable of pushing the car myself.

Hire some workers to push it away? But then I’d have them to worry about.

Kill them all. Ha ha.

I lifted my blouse and wiped sweat off my face.

So damn hot.

The heat was fine if you happened to be in an airconditioned house, or sitting around outside or enjoying cocktails or swimming in the pool. But when you’re trudging through the woods with a saber in your hand…

I took off my blouse. That helped quite a lot. I didn’t want to lose it, so I tucked it under the waistband at the back of my skirt and it hung behind me like a tail.

I kept my bra on. Even though it felt wet and uncomfortable, it stopped my breasts from bouncing and swinging all over the place. I kept the skirt on, too. It was wet and clingy against my rump, but otherwise okay. Besides, I figured it would be easier to wear than to carry. I also kept my shoes on. You don’t want to go walking through dark woods barefoot.

With the blouse tucked behind me, I tried to focus my mind again on the problem of Elroy’s car.

There must be a way to get rid of it!

How about pushing it with my car? That might work. Push it backward out of the driveway. Once it’s on the street, tow it away.

Yes!

Of course, I’d have to do it at night to lower the chances of being seen.

Out on the street in front of the house, I could fasten my rear bumper to Elroy’s front bumper with some rope or electrical cord—or even pick up a chain at a store tomorrow, and save the job for tomorrow night. Tow Elroy’s car into Miller’s Woods. Leave it near the picnic area, maybe.

Fantastic!

It would mean a lot of work, and a whole new series of risks, but the plan should succeed fine if I didn’t get caught in the act.

I was glad to have a back-up plan. But it sure made me want to find Steve and get my hands on Elroy’s ignition key.

So where are you, Stevie boy?

I’d been walking for long enough to be fairly deep into the woods. I might even be somewhere near the camp.

Maybe fifty yards away from it.

Or half a mile.

Or a mile.

It might be dead ahead. Or somewhere to the left or the right.

For that matter, where was the creek? What about the picnic grounds? The parking area?

I’d be glad to find any familiar place. But even if I could get my bearings, I still might have trouble locating the campsite. I’d only stumbled onto it by accident, last night. With such a dim notion of where it might be, I probably had no chance at all of finding it again.

There’s always some chance, I told myself.

Fat chance.

Maybe if Steve has an enormous bonfire…

Or if Judy screams…

Or I scream?

Shaking my head, I muttered, “How nuts am I?”

Nuts enough, apparently.

I stopped walking, then took a deep breath and shouted, “HELLO! IT’S ME! I CHANGED MY MIND! DON’T GO AWAY WITHOUT ME! I’M COMING! CAN YOU HEAR ME? I WANT TO GO WITH YOU!”

In the quiet of the woods, my voice must’ve carried awfully far.

I listened for an answer.

After a minute or two, I realized that Steve wouldn’t call out, even if he’d heard me.

He might come for me, but he wouldn’t call out.

“WAIT FOR ME!” I shouted.

As I walked on, I was still worn out and sweaty and breathing hard, but now I had fear mixed in.

By yelling, I’d probably improved my chances of meeting up with Steve—but I’d lost any chance of taking him by surprise. From now on, the element of surprise would be on his side.

“Idiot,” I muttered.

Just keep quiet and maybe he won’t find me.

And I for damn sure won’t find him, either. Or Elroy’s key.

The key isn’t worth dying for.

So why am I doing this?

I realized that I could turn around right now and hurry silently away, find my way back to the house and not have to deal with Steve tonight—or maybe ever again. I could take a bath and go to bed. Tomorrow, clean the house. If I couldn’t get the blood off the carpet, I’d cut myself and make up a story for Serena and Charlie. They would probably believe whatever I decided to tell them. After dark, I’d tow away Elroy’s car with his body in the trunk and his head in the back seat and be done with all this.

I could do that.

But even as it went through my mind, I kept on walking deeper into the woods.

I’m not sure why.

Maybe it was something inside me that didn’t like to quit, that needed to see it through to the end, no matter what.

Something that needed to cut the last wires.

Not only did I keep walking, but I started shouting again. This time, I used his name.

“STEVE! HEY, STEVE! WHERE ARE YOU? CAN YOU HEAR ME? I DON’T KNOW WHERE YOU ARE! COME AND GET ME!”

Even if Steve wanted to keep clear of me, I figured he might be tempted to come looking—to stop me from shouting his name through the woods.

No telling how far my voice might be carrying.

Or who might be listening.

More than likely, we weren’t the only two people within the sound of my voice. There might be a couple of campers, or someone out for a jog or stroll, maybe some lovebirds or a dog walker or a wino, maybe even a criminal or two using the forest as a place to hide from the authorities or hunt for victims.

Or there might be only the two of us.

I didn’t know, and neither did Steve.

“WHERE ARE YOU, STEVE?” I called out. “COME AND FIND ME! DON’T YOU DARE LEAVE ME BEHIND! I’M NOT GONNA LET THEM NAIL ME FOR THIS. IF THE COPS GET ME, I’LL TELL EVERYTHING! I’M NOT GONNA TAKE THE FALL FOR YOU, STEVE! YOU’RE THE ONE WHO MURDERED HIM, NOT ME! I HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT. YOU DID IT ALL, AND I’LL TELL THE COPS THAT.”

I knocked off the yelling for a while, and just walked along and listened. I heard nothing except the usual sounds you hear on a hot summer night in a forest, such as birds and bugs and frogs and the breeze creeping through the trees and bushes.

“I SWEAR TO GOD, STEVE, YOU’D BETTER NOT LEAVE ME HERE! I’LL SPILL MY GUTS! I’LL TELL THEM ALL ABOUT HOW YOU CUT OFF ELROY’S HEAD! I’LL TELL THEM ABOUT YOU AND MILO, TOO! THE FBI WILL LOVE TO HEAR ABOUT YOU GUYS!”

I had a sudden inspiration.

Just in case a stranger might actually be listening to me and paying attention—

“I’LL TELL ABOUT HOW YOU CHOPPED UP TONY ROMANO, TOO! AND HOW YOU SNATCHED AND RAPED JUDY! AND MURDERED HER! I’LL TELL THEM EVERYTHING I KNOW IF YOU DON’T GET ME OUT OF HERE!”

I wondered if I should throw in Murphy for good measure.

No. Why drag poor Murphy into this? He was my own business, my own private loss.

Anyway, I was tired of yelling. I was out of breath and my throat hurt.

And I’d already shouted more than enough to draw Steve’s attention—and wrath.

If he’d heard me, he would probably be on his way.

In a rage.



56


I FALL FOR STEVE


A few minutes later, as I went rushing down a dip in the trail, something tripped me. It caught me across the front of my right ankle, then my left. It felt like a taut rope or cord.

With both feet snagged, I plunged headlong.

I flung out my hands, hoping to break the fall. They probably helped a little. But the ground bashed them out of the way and I slammed down hard. By the time my body struck the trail, my feet were free from whatever had snagged them. I skidded down the sloping earth.

The moment I came to a stop, someone rushed out of the darkness beside the trail. A bare foot stomped down on my right wrist, pinning the saber to the ground. I figured it must be Steve’s foot. Before I could do anything, he dropped a knee down, punching me between the shoulder blades. Then he clobbered me in the head. I felt an explosion of pain, glimpsed a bright flash, and then I was out.

But not for long.

At least, I don’t think so.

While I was knocked out, Steve dismantled his boobytrap, brought it down to where I was sprawled on the trail, rolled me onto my back, removed my bra, and bound my hands together in front of me with the same length of electrical cord I’d used on him.

I woke up to find him standing in front of me. He held the saber in his right hand, an end of the cord in his left. Tugging the cord, he tried to pull me into a sitting position.

“Okay, okay,” I said.

“Ah, Sleeping Beauty wakes up.”

It sounded like something poor Murphy might’ve said. For a moment, I thought I was back in his bed…but then I remembered he’d fallen into the bathtub…with me on him. Fallen and broken his head open.

This wasn’t Murphy, this was Steve.

I suddenly felt lost and sick.

“Go to hell,” I muttered.

“You don’t sound very perky,” Steve said. “Hope I didn’t break you.”

“Fuck you,” I said.

Steve hauled away at the cord. It tightened around my wrists and stretched my arms. Leaning forward, I struggled to stand up. It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t successful, either. When I got to my knees, he jerked the cord and I flew forward and landed hard.

“You must try to be less clumsy,” he said.

I wanted to make another crack, but I couldn’t because I’d started to cry and didn’t want him to find out.

He gave the cord a couple of tugs. “Up we go,” he said.

I shoved at the ground with my elbows and knees. I thought he’d probably try to pull me down again, but this time he let me stand up.

“Very good,” he said. “Now, let’s see. How’ll we do this? I don’t want to have you behind me, so…You take the lead.” He stepped to the left side of the trail and pointed the way with the saber. “Ladies first,” he said.

As I walked by, he swatted me across the ass with the blade. I flinched and gasped. Then he came in behind me, holding the cord low. It dangled from my wrists and hung against the side of my left leg.

“We’ll just stick to the trail for a while,” he said. “I’ll tell you where to go.”

Pretty soon, he asked, “You weren’t satisfied with getting out alive?”

“I…want to go away with you.”

“So I heard. So everyone must’ve heard in ten counties. But I figure you were lying about that. Just like you were lying when you said I killed Tony. I didn’t rape or kill Judy, either. Bad enough you were yelling your head off like a lunatic and accusing me of all kinds of shit, but making false accusations…That really takes the cake. How could you do that to me?”

“I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I just figured…I don’t know…I thought if I said enough really awful things about you, you’d have to come and get me.”

“It worked,” he said, and laughed.

“I was telling the truth, though, about going away with you. I want to be your partner.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You said you wanted me.”

“Still do, hon. And I aim to have you. But maybe not for my partner. I happen to think you’re playing games about that. You’ll be all nice and chummy till you get the upper hand, then you’ll nail me.”

“No, I won’t. We’ll hit the road together. I’ll help you…”

“No, you won’t.”

“I will! I want to!”

“You’re just saying this to save your sweet rear end. That’s about all you’re interested in. You don’t want to be my partner. You hate me.”

“I do not.”

“I’ve got a nasty wound on my head that says otherwise.”

“I only did that because you were hurting me. You bit me!”

“Ah, yes. I was enjoying a taste of tit teryaki.”

Real cute.

“We could be great together,” I told him. “You know damn well how tough I am.”

“Tough? Not at all. I’ve rarely put my lips around such nice, tender tits. Love ’em.”

“They go where I go,” I told him. “Take me on as your partner, and we’ll all be together.”

“Or I could take them without you.”

Don’t let him get to you!

“I won’t be much good to you dead.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”

“I mean as a partner.”

“Oh, that. True.”

“You’re going to need a partner.”

“Now that you’ve killed Milo?” he asked.

“Right. Exactly. And you owe me for that, don’t you?”

“Owe you how?”

“No more sloppy seconds.”

“True, true,” he said. “I thank you.”

“And now you need a new partner, and I’ll be it. I can drive for you. I can do all sorts of stuff. Like help you get girls. I can even…you know…help do stuff to them.”

Do stuff?” he asked.

“Like tie them up, help you kill them or whatever, help you dispose of their bodies. Whatever you want.” I looked over my shoulder at him. “You know I can do that sort of stuff.”

“Yeah, you’re a bad cat.”

“Bad enough.”

“Not nearly bad enough, honey.”

“I am, too.”

“You’re a pussy.”

“Tough enough to kill Milo and Tony and knock your brains half out of your head.”

Again, I couldn’t bring myself to mention Murphy. I didn’t want him to be part of this.

“If you had what it takes,” Steve said, “you would’ve taken care of Judy. You left a living witness.”

“She didn’t know enough to get me in trouble.”

“Bullshit. She knew plenty. You didn’t kill her because you’re not as tough as you think you are. You liked her, so you let her live.”

“No.”

“You had the hots for her.”

“Did not.”

“You fell for her, so you didn’t have the heart to take her down.”

“You’re nuts.”

“That so?”

“Yeah. So maybe I didn’t kill her, I beat the crap out of her and left her for dead. I figured she’d never get out of the woods alive.”

“Who are you trying to kid?” Steve said.

“Nobody.”

She’s probably the real reason you came out here tonight. You never had any intention of hitting the road with me, you came out here to save that girl’s ass.”

“You’re nuts.”

“Or maybe whip it,” he added, and laughed softly.

“Judy had nothing to do with this,” I insisted. “I came because I want to go away with you. That’s the only reason. After you got away…never mind.”

“No, no. Please, don’t stop now. I can’t wait to hear it.”

“Why should I waste my breath? You won’t believe me, anyway.”

“Oh, try me.”

Looking over my shoulder again, I said, “I missed you.”

“How sweet.”

“I figured we’d probably never see each other again, and I suddenly realized how much I…I wanted to be with you. I know it sounds crazy. And you probably don’t believe me, anyway. But there’s something about you. I can’t explain it. All I know is that I suddenly felt this horrible emptiness inside after you were gone. And I knew that the emptiness was because…I was afraid I might not be able to find you, that I might have to go the rest of my life without you.”

“I’m deeply moved,” he said. “You loved me so much that you came after me with a sword.”

“It wasn’t meant for you.”

“But I’ve got it, and I thank you.”

“That isn’t what I…I only brought the saber along for protection. I never intended to use it against you.”

“And you never will.”

“That’s fine. I would’ve handed it to you, if you’d asked. You didn’t have to ambush me for it.”

“You know something, Alice?”

“Plenty.”

“You are marvelous. I’ve mentioned that before. But the more we’re together, the more I discover. Now I find that you’re not only sexy and stacked and gutsy and witty and tough—but you’re a quite a fine liar, too.”

“I don’t lie.”

A laugh burst out of him. “You could be President!”

“I just want to be your partner.”

“There you go again. But you know what? Considering your many wonderful attributes, I might just be willing to let you have a go at it.”

“At being your partner?”

“Exactly.”

This was pretty much what I’d been hoping to hear, but I sensed trouble. “What’s the catch?” I asked.

“No catch. There will be an audition, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t know what an audition is?”

“Of course I do. But I don’t see the point. I mean, you’ve already seen me in action.”

“My dear, I’ve felt you in action.”

“So why do I have to prove myself?”

“It’s simple. You’re not the only sweet young thing interested in the role.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Judy.”

Judy?

He laughed. “Of course! Who else would it be? Marilyn? Marilyn’s a looker, but she’s much too stiff for the part. Of course it’s Judy.”

“She really is alive?”

Steve had claimed, before, that he hadn’t killed her. But I’d figured he must be lying. Now I believed him. Now that I’d have to be going up against her for the “role” of Steve’s partner.

It made me feel strange, somehow, to find out she wasn’t dead. Relieved, I guess. Nervous. Excited.

I felt dread, too.

Because I would probably have to kill her, this time.

“What makes you think Judy wants to be your partner?” I asked.

“Told me so, herself. Fact is, until you came along shouting all that shit for the whole world to hear, I’d say that Judy pretty much had it in the bag. I don’t think she’ll be very pleased to find out she has competition.”

“She’d make a lousy partner for you,” I said.

“Oh, I’m not so sure of that. I happen to think she’ll make a spectacular partner. Better than you, in some ways. She’s younger than you, certainly more beautiful. Though she’s lacking your magnificent figure, she has a certain innocence that I find very appealing, tremendously sexy.”

“Yeah, well, that’s her problem. She can’t be partners with a thrill-killer. She’s a fuckin’ goody-two-shoes.”

“Which is why we need the audition,” Steve said. “She’ll have to prove that she has what it takes.”



57


SEARCHING THE DARK


“Let’s head over in that direction,” Steve said. Stepping up close behind me, he pointed to the right with the saber. “We don’t have much farther to go.”

I could see nothing over there except more dark forest. I stepped off the trail, though, and started hiking through the undergrowth. The ground was rougher, littered with rocks and fallen limbs. There were also plenty of unexpected dips and rises. I walked very carefully. I’d already had too many falls, and sure didn’t want to go down with my hands tied together.

As I made my way along, low bushes clawed at my skirt and pushed at my legs as if trying to keep me back. Higher limbs slid their moist leaves against my bare arms and breasts and face. Some limbs scraped across my skin like dull claws. Others poked and scratched me, drawing blood. I couldn’t see the blood, but felt it dribbling down my skin, here and there.

Every so often, Steve gave me instructions about which way to turn. I tried to do what he said. Sometimes, though, I displeased him. Either I didn’t move fast enough, or my turn wasn’t exactly what he wanted. He’d jerk the cord, hurting my wrists and twisting me around. Or he’d smack me with the flat of the saber blade. Once, he even jabbed me in the right buttock hard enough to make me bleed. The seat of my skirt got so wet that it stuck to my rump, and I felt blood trickling down the back of my leg.

After he did that, I said, “I’ll make you a better partner if you don’t wreck me.”

“But I enjoy wrecking you. Anyway, I need to soften you up a little for Judy.”

“What do you mean, soften me up?”

“You’re bigger and stronger than she is.”

“So?”

“We need a level playing-field.”

“What for?”

“The audition, of course.”

“What’re you gonna do, have us fight?”

“Among other things,” he said, sounding very chipper. “Winner becomes my partner. Loser loses.”

“But I’ve got to be ‘softened up’?”

“Exactly.”

“That’s not fair.”

“We’ve got to be fair to Judy, don’t we? You have all the natural advantages. Besides, she’s been through a lot.”

I’ve been through a lot.”

“Not as much as Judy. She was rather roughly used by Milo, myself and you. In her present condition, she wouldn’t stand much of a chance.”

“Then let’s just skip this ‘audition’ crap, and you can declare me winner by default.”

“Not a chance. I think you’d better hang a left about now.”

“If I’m so much better than she is…”

He jabbed my other buttock.

“OW!”

I turned left and kept on walking.

He kept giving directions.

After a while, he kicked one of my feet sideways, tripping me. As I stumbled forward out of control, he said, “Oops!” Then I fell. With my hands bound together, I couldn’t catch myself. I struck the ground hard.

“What a klutz!” he said, and laughed.

I pushed myself up, and we continued through the woods. Finally, Steve took the lead. He stayed well ahead of me, pulling the cord so it stayed taut between us. This went on for a while.

“Are we lost?” I asked.

“We’ll find it. I know we’re close. I had no way to keep the fire going, though. I was gone most of the day, and Judy was certainly in no position to add any wood.”

“How’ll we find it if there isn’t a fire?”

“I know the area pretty well.”

“Not well enough, apparently.”

He gave the cord a rough tug. It jerked my wrists, stretched my arms, and made me lurch forward, staggering. This time, though, I didn’t fall.

We kept walking.

After a while, I said, “Do you mind if I make a suggestion?”

“Suggest away.”

“Not if you’re gonna hurt me for it.”

“What have you got in mind?”

“Maybe you should try calling out to Judy.”

“I don’t think she’ll answer.”

“What kind of partner is she?”

“I left her with a gag on.”

“Maybe she got it off. Why don’t you at least try calling her? These are big woods. We might never find your camp.”

Stopping, Steve turned around and faced me. “You call her,” he said. “She’s more likely to answer if it’s you.”

“After everything I did to her?”

“It’s not half what I did. Tell her you ran into me and killed me and now you want to help her get free.”

“She won’t believe that.”

“Make her believe it.”

I gazed through the darkness at Steve.

If I refused to call Judy, maybe we wouldn’t be able to find her.

It might save her life. Or mine.

“Do it,” he said.

“What if I don’t?” I asked.

Steve walked slowly toward me. “You want to find her as much as I do,” he said.

“So she and I can have some sort of fight to the death?”

“Against her, you stand a chance.” He raised the saber blade and moved it slowly torward my chest. Because of the way my wrists were tied, my breasts were pushed close together by my upper arms. They had a deep, narrow crevice between them. Steve slipped the blade in. Then he flicked it from right to left to right to left, paddling the sides of my breasts a few times. Not very hard. Gentle slaps that didn’t hurt much, but made me flinch anyway. And worried me.

If he turns the blade…

“Think you stand a chance against me?” he asked.

“Not at the moment,” I said.

“Call out to Judy. Make her answer.”

He gave the saber a quick, hard flick. It slapped the side of my right breast.

“JUDY!” I shouted. “IT’S ME! ALICE! WHERE ARE YOU?”

Steve and I stood in silence, listening.

Nothing.

“CANYOU HEAR ME? STEVE’S DEAD. I TOOK HIM BY SURPRISE AND KILLED HIM! HE CAN’T HURT YOU ANYMORE! I WANT TO SET YOU FREE! ARE YOU AT THE CAMP? WHERE ARE YOU? MAKE SOME SOUNDS SO I CAN FIND YOU!”

No sounds came.

Just the breeze and the birds and the bugs.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” Steve whispered. He slipped the blade deeper into the crevice until its point met my chest.

“COME ON, JUDY! I’M SORRY ABOUT EVERYTHING, OKAY? I KNOW I HURT YOU. I WENT TOO FAR, AND I’M SORRY. NOW LET ME HELP YOU.”

Nothing.

“Maybe she couldn’t get the gag off,” I whispered to Steve.

“Or she might be afraid to speak up,” he said. “I knew the gag might not be enough to keep her quiet, so I gave her a gentle warning. I said if I heard her yelling, I’d come back and do some very nasty things to her. You know. With my teeth. With burning sticks.” I couldn’t see Steve’s smile, but I knew it had to be there. “In tender, intimate places.”

“You pig.”

He stuck me.

OW!

“Be nice to the man with the sword. Now, try again.”

I felt a thin stream of blood sliding down between my breasts. “What do you want me to say?” I asked.

“Whatever works.”

“Maybe she can’t hear me. Maybe she’s already gotten away.”

“I don’t think so. Try again.”

“JUDY!” I shouted. “HE’S ALIVE. HE’S GOT ME. KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT, AND MAYBE HE WON’T FIND…”

“Fucking…!” he blurted, and jerked the blade up.

While I tried to back away, the point sliced a vertical slit up the middle of my chest, missed my throat, and nicked the front of my chin. Then I was falling backward.

I slammed the ground. It smashed my breath out, but at least I didn’t land on anything terribly hard or sharp.

Steve lunged at me with the sword.

Its tip popped through the front of my skirt, pierced my panties and poked me.

“No!” I cried out.

And Judy, somewhere not very far away, shouted, “STOP IT! I’M OVER HERE!”

Steve turned his head toward the sound of her voice.

“LEAVE HER ALONE, STEVE! DON’T HURT HER! I’M RIGHT HERE IN CAMP WHERE YOU LEFT ME.”

“Okay,” he called. “Stay put, and keep talking till we find you.”

He raised the saber and stepped away from me. When the slack was gone, the cord grew tight and pulled at my wrists. To save myself pain, I didn’t resist. I sat up, then struggled to my feet.

“Speak to me, Judy,” Steve said.

“I’m over here.”

He towed me in that direction.

“Speak up.”

“Are you okay, Alice?” Judy asked.

“Sure. Dandy. How about you?”

“I’ve been better.”

“What’d Steve do to you?”

“He…”

“All right, all right, ladies. Knock it off. Just count, Judy.”

“Just die,” Judy said.

“Count. One, two, three, four…”

“Go to hell.”

When she said that, Steve jerked my cord. I stumbled forward. Arms stretched forward like a diver (thanks to the cord), I flew off my feet.

Not again!

I cried out, “AHH!” and crashed down to the ground in front of Steve’s feet.

“What’d you do to her?” Judy called.

I didn’t do anything to her—you did.”

Instead of giving me time to stand up, he trudged backward, pulling the cord, dragging me.

“Alice?” Judy asked.

She sounded no more than a few yards away.

“RUN!” I shouted as Steve dragged me closer to her. “GET AWAY!”

“I can’t.”



58


THE AUDITION


He made me lie flat on the ground, face down, my legs spread wide apart and my arms stretched overhead. “Don’t move,” he told me.

Crouching just beyond my bound hands, he worked on the fire. He got a small blaze going, then added sticks from a nearby pile. The flames grew. I could feel their warmth. The fire crackled and hissed and popped. He added larger chunks of wood. Soon, he had a roaring, hot campfire with flames leaping two and three feet into the air.

“Okay,” he said. “Get up on your knees.”

I pushed myself up. Kneeling, I settled back on my haunches.

And scanned the campsite. It looked pretty much the same as last night, but Judy was no longer hanging by her wrists from the tree limb. I didn’t see her anywhere.

Leaving my hands tied together, Steve shoved my wrists in against my belly, then wrapped the cord around me a couple of times like a belt. He drew it backward and looped what was left of it around my ankles.

“Now,” he said, “stay put.”

He picked up the saber, then headed for the tent. Twisting sideways, I watched him. He flung one of the tent flaps aside, poked the saber into the ground nearby, then ducked into the dark opening.

A few moments later, he scuttled out backward. He was bent over, straddling Judy, dragging her by her upper arms. Her head was between his feet. She had it raised and turned sideways, trying to keep her face off the ground.

She was naked, of course.

And hogtied with rope—hands bound together behind her back, feet forced up and tied almost within reach of her hands.

As Steve dragged her toward me, she strained upward, arching her back. She managed to get her upper body off the ground so she was skidding along on just her thighs.

About six feet away from me, Steve hoisted her to her knees. Leaving her, he hurried over to the tent and retrieved the saber. With the weapon in his right hand, he took up a position midway between us but slightly off to the side where he wouldn’t obstruct our views.

Judy and I stared at each other.

The old, red bandana hung around her neck.

She looked awful. And beautiful.

Her sweaty body was smudged with dirt, smeared and streaked with blood. She gleamed like gold in the firelight. She was a battered ruin of welts, bruises, scratches and cuts. I’d given many of them to her myself.

Including a bullet wound to the right side of her head. The gouge from that was out of sight, hidden under the curls of her wet, blond hair. I knew she had it, though. And knew I’d done it.

Shot her. My God. Tried to kill her.

What’s the matter with me?

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

“Shut up,” Steve said. “You can look, but don’t talk.”

So I kept on looking.

In spite of all the damage to her body, Judy didn’t seem beaten. Hurt, badly hurt, but not beaten.

She knelt like a proud soldier at attention, her body straight and rigid, belly sucked in, chest out, shoulders back, chin up. She had a fierce look in her eyes. The only sign of weakness or vulnerability—her lower lip was clamped between her teeth.

My throat felt tight and thick, but I managed to say, “I wish I’d never gotten you into…”

“Shut up,” Steve said.

“Go to hell,” I told him.

He smiled at me. “Better be nice. Only one of you gets to be my loyal sidekick. The other stays here, toes up, ticket cancelled, farm bought, dead as dirt. And I’m the sole judge. In other words, you’d better start kissing up.”

“Kiss my ass,” I said.

“I’m sure I’ll get to it sooner or later,” he said. “Now, let’s start the audition. Is everyone feeling well rested and fit as a fiddle?”

Judy and I looked at each other, but said nothing.

“Good!” Steve blurted. “Let’s begin. Who would like to go first?”

“Go first?” I said. “I thought we were supposed to have a fight.”

“All in good time, my dear. This’ll be a multi-part audition, with the fight as the finale.” Grinning, he added, “We’ll work our way up to it.”

“So what else do we have to do?” I asked.

“Anything I say. Now. Who would like to start? Do we have a volunteer?” He turned his grin from me to Judy. “How about you, sweet thing?”

She glared up at him, but didn’t answer.

“Remember, ladies, cooperation counts.”

“What do I have to do?” Judy asked.

“Competition number one?” Raising the saber high, he used his other hand to unfasten his belt. “The Great Suckoff!” he announced. His cut-offs dropped around his ankles.

Even though I despised him and he disgusted me, I’ve got to admit he had a wonderful body. All slender and smooth, with sleek muscles and a small, tight rear end. His penis stuck out straight in front of him. It was only about halferect, but already seemed pretty huge.

Resting the saber on his shoulder, he stepped out of his shorts and walked over to Judy.

She stared straight forward, her lips pressed together in a tight line.

Steve stopped by her left side.

“Turn and face me,” he said.

She turned. It didn’t look like an easy task, the way she was tied. But she managed.

“Excellent,” Steve said. He moved closer to her. When he stopped, he was almost touching her lips.

Judy’s mouth was shut. Apparently breathing only through her nostrils, she sucked in air as if she’d just finished a sprint. The quick panting made her chest swell and contract, her breasts lift and fall. She looked as if she’d been dipped in melted butter.

“Open wide,” Steve said.

She didn’t.

He prodded her lips, but she kept them shut.

“Do you want to lose by forfeit?” he asked.

I’ll do it,” I told him.

“I’m talking to Judy,” he snapped. All the tease was gone from his voice.

“Do me instead! She doesn’t want you. I do. Come on over here and put it in. I’ll suck your brains out.”

“Your turn’ll come. Now butt out.” To Judy, he said, “Open up, honey. Right now.”

She shook her head.

So then Steve grabbed her by the hair and jerked her head back. Her mouth stayed shut.

“Don’t!” I cried out.

Ignoring me, he did a little prance. I couldn’t tell exactly what was going on, but he must’ve knocked her in the belly with either a knee or a foot. She suddenly grunted and her mouth sprang open. With the hand clutching her hair, he jerked her head forward.

He shoved himself in.

“Yes!” he cried out. “Now suck, honey, suck!”

He waved his saber high.

Judy wheezed and gagged as he thrust.

“Stop it!” I yelled. “Leave her alone!”

“You’re next!” he shouted.

“Bite him, Judy! Bite his fucking cock off!”

Maybe afraid she might follow my advice, Steve suddenly flung her away. She fell onto her back, her tied arms trapped beneath her and her knees in the air.

Steve tossed the saber aside. Hands free, he threw himself on top of Judy. His hips shoved her legs even farther apart. He clutched her shoulders to pin her down. Then his ass rammed forward and she gasped and I knew he was in her.

“NO!” I shrieked. “STOP THAT!”

He hadn’t done much of a job securing me.

I had no trouble at all working my feet free. By the time I’d managed to stand up, the cord that Steve had wrapped around my waist was hanging in a couple of loose coils down my rump and legs.

But my hands were still lashed together.

I struggled to jerk them free. The cord had no give, and only dug into my wrists.

But I didn’t intend to let it stop me.

Steve was still on top of Judy, grunting and thrusting.

I couldn’t take the risk of going for the saber. It was in his line of sight—if he happened to look up from Judy. Besides, it’d be a tricky weapon for someone whose hands are bound together.

Whereas the carving knife was conveniently located high on the inner side of my right thigh—and just the perfect size for one-handed use.

It had come from Serena and Charlie’s kitchen.

Before setting out to hunt for Steve, I’d decided against a flashlight but in favor of a knife.

Hurrying toward him now as he raped Judy, I used both hands to reach in through the slit of my skirt. With my left hand, I drew the knife downward, freeing it from the single strip of tape that held it to my thigh.

The way Steve was huffing and thrusting, he must’ve been just about ready to come.

I changed the knife to my right hand and twisted my wrist so the blade pointed forward.

Judy was writhing and sobbing under him.

Steve’s firelit ass bobbed up and down, buttocks flexing.

I dropped toward him, my hands low, the blade straight out like a steel version of his penis and aiming for the shadowy crack between his cheeks.

The blade slid in easily and deep.

Suck this, asshole!

Steve squealed.

I gave the handle a hard twist, turning the blade, and his squeal jumped an octave higher. My ears hurt. He jerked and thrashed under me. Hot fluids flooded out over my hands. Mostly blood, I suppose.

He tried to throw me off, but he didn’t stand a chance. Not the way he was caught between Judy and me. Not the way his nervous system had gotten trashed with the first thrust of my attack.

I’d nailed him but good.

As badly as I wanted to climb off and escape from Steve’s gushing ass, I wanted even worse to keep at him until the job was done. So I stayed on him with the knife buried deep, and went on working its blade around, really ripping him up inside.

For quite a long time, he shuddered and twitched and screamed.

Finally he settled down.



59


AND THE WINNER IS…


Underneath me, underneath Steve, Judy wept.

“It’s okay,” I told her. “It’s over.”

“Is…is he dead?”

“If he isn’t, he wishes he was.”

“Could you…get him off me? He’s…” She started crying too hard to go on.

I shoved myself off Steve’s back. On my feet behind him, I bent over and grabbed him, clutching his right ankle with my right hand. As I dragged him off Judy, his face rubbed between her breasts and down her belly. About the time his mouth got to her navel, I gave his ankle a strong jerk and stumbled backward. His face sped the rest of the way. The slight rise of her pubic mound must’ve acted like a ramp. Going over, his head jumped up as if he needed to take a last peek at her. Then he dropped off and his face struck the ground.

I kept staggering backward as fast as I could, dragging him by the foot, until our momentum ran out. Then I let go and stood above him and tried to catch my breath.

Judy rolled onto her side. She lay there sobbing quietly.

Crouching, I pulled the knife out of Steve’s butt.

Then I stood up straight. I raised my hands and studied them in the firelight. They were crossed at the wrists and tightly wrapped with the electrical extension cord.

Right away, it was obvious that I wouldn’t be able to reach the cord with the knife’s blade.

I could think of only one way, without help, to free my hands from the cord.

By loosening it with my teeth.

Both my hands were bathed with blood and filth from Steve. I brought my hands toward my mouth, anyway, but the stench made me gag.

Forget it.

Maybe there was a way to use the knife, after all.

Bending over, I spread my skirt open and clamped the knife’s handle between my knees so that the blade pointed upward. Then I lowered my arms, easing my wrists down until the blade slipped between them.

I moved my hands up and down, rubbing the cord against the blade’s edge.

The coating of the cord—rubber or plastic, I guess—was so hard that the blade didn’t have much effect on it.

Maybe try it with the saber.

This’ll work. Just gonna take a while.

I tried to apply more pressure, but my knee-grip wasn’t secure enough so the knife slipped.

“What’re you doing?” Judy asked, her voice quiet and shaky.

“Trying to cut this damn cord off me.”

“Can’t you…just untie it?”

“Not with my hands tied.”

“I’ll do it for you.”

“Thanks anyway,” I said, and kept rubbing. Pretty soon, my legs began to tremble from keeping such a tight hold on the knife. Also, my back started to ache.

“Are you afraid of me?” Judy asked.

“Give me a break.”

“Then why won’t you let me help?”

“I’d have to cut you loose.”

“So…now I’m your prisoner? Again?”

“I don’t know.”

“Just great,” she murmured. “I thought…after all this…you’ve saved my life, Alice. Twice.”

“I know.”

“You just…killed Steve for me.”

“For both of us.”

“I’m the one he was raping.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

“Sure.”

“And you’re afraid I’ll…jump you?”

“You might,” I said.

“I won’t.”

“Sure.”

“So what are you going to do, kill me?”

When she said that, I pushed too hard or flinched or something. I’m not sure exactly what went wrong, but my knees let go of the knife and it fell to the ground. I blurted, “Shit!” and almost felt like crying, myself.

“Just come here and I’ll take care of you,” Judy said.

“Okay. Okay.” I squatted, picked up the knife, and walked over to her with the long end of the cord trailing behind me.

“Do you know what I think?” Judy asked.

“What?”

“I think we should go away together.”

“Huh?”

“Just disappear. You and I.”

“Yeah, right.” Crouching behind her, I slipped the knife blade under the taut line connecting her hands and feet. With one hard tug, I severed it.

Judy said, “Ah.” She straightened her legs. “Oh, God,” she said, and stretched. “That feels so good. Thank you.”

Her feet were still tied together. I decided to leave them that way, and started to cut through the rope binding her wrists together.

“No funny stuff,” I said, “or I will kill you.”

“I mean it about going away together,” she said.

I stopped cutting. “The hell you do,” I told her.

“These guys have a van,” she said.

“I know.”

“Maybe we can find it. They sure as heck don’t need it anymore. We can use it for our getaway.”

“You don’t want to run away with me. Hey, I was pulling the same stunt with Steve. So were you, apparently. It’s not a bad ploy if you can pull it off, but…”

“This is different.”

“Oh, yeah? How?”

“I hated him. I don’t hate you.”

“You should. Everything I did to you.”

“You were just scared, that’s all. Trying to protect yourself.”

“By killing you.”

“But you didn’t kill me,” she said. “And you saved me from Steve and Milo. I owe you.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t owe me for anything. After all the awful things I did to you…”

“Forget about that stuff, Alice.”

“Sure.”

“I think we’d be great together. We could take their van and hit the road.”

“Why?” I asked.

“You know why.”

“You tell me.”

“Because we’re in this whole thing too deep,” Judy said.

You’re not. You’re just a victim.”

“The cops won’t know that. My ex-boyfriend’s body is in the trunk of his car—in the parking lot of my apartment building. I’ll be a suspect right from the start. And one look at me, they’ll know I’ve been tangling with someone.”

“Right. Milo and Steve. And me.”

“That’s the point, Alice. I can’t tell the truth without telling on you. And I won’t do that. So I’ll be in deep trouble if I stick around.”

“I guess you’re right about that,” I admitted.

She was right. We’d gone way past the point where all might be explained by a few simple lies.

The truth would get Judy off the hook—if the cops believed her—but it would destroy me.

“You’d really…give up everything and go away with me?” I asked.

“What’s to give up? I’ve got no family, no boyfriend, a crummy job. We can drive off and start all over, just you and me. Change our names, maybe dye our hair…Wouldn’t it be great?”

“Sounds pretty good to me,” I said.

If we went away together, I supposed I would miss my room above the garage, and Serena and Charlie and their kids. But my life hadn’t really been all that spectacular so far, anyway. I wouldn’t be giving up much, that’s for sure.

And the idea of going off with Judy…I felt almost like a kid on the eve of a great adventure.

Not that it’s going to happen.

“Do you really mean it?” I asked.

“Yeah. I mean it.”

I went ahead and finished cutting her hands loose. “Oh, that feels so great,” she said. She rolled onto her back. Sighing, she rubbed her wrists. “Thanks. Give me a second or two, okay?”

“Sure.”

While she stretched and rubbed her wrists and tried to recover, I crouched by her feet and sliced through the rope between them.

She said, “Ah,” and “Thanks.” Then she sat up and rubbed her ankles. “Feels so good.” Smiling up at me, she said, “Now, let’s take care of that cord.”

On our knees, we faced each other.

I still held the knife in my right hand.

“What’re you gonna do with that?” she asked.

“It’s just in case.”

Leaning forward, Judy put her hands gently on both sides of my face. She gazed into my eyes.

God, she was so beautiful.

“What kind of friends are we going to be?” she asked. “If you feel you need a knife…?”

“You don’t really want to go away with me,” I said.

“Yes, I do.”

I swallowed hard, and said, “Bull.”

“Trust me, Alice.”

“I’d like to trust you,” I said. “But I can’t.”

“Yes you can. You can trust me. You can depend on me. We’ll be best friends, now and forever.”

“Yeah, sure,” I said. My eyes filled with tears.

Judy put her hands on my shoulders. “You won’t have to be lonely anymore. Neither will I. We’ve both been so lonely…and hurt. But no more. We have each other, now.” She leaned in closer and gently kissed each of my wet eyes and then the tip of my nose.

I let the knife fall from my hand.

Judy sighed as if very relieved. Then she whispered, “Thanks,” and leaned back and picked up the knife. With a strange smile on her firelit face, she said, “Now I’m the one with the weapon and you’re the one tied up.”

“That’s right,” I said.

I suddenly felt cold and sick inside.

“You believed me?” Judy asked. “You really believed you could trust me?”

“I guess,” I said, my voice shaking. Her beautiful, golden face was blurry through my tears.

“You really thought I wanted to be your best friend? And run away with you?”

“Yeah. No. I guess not. But…but I wanted to believe you. I wanted it so badly.”

Then I was bawling like a kid with a crushed heart and I couldn’t stop.

Not even when Judy tossed aside the knife and freed my hands from the electric cord.

Not even when she pulled me against her and hugged me tightly and stroked my hair.

Not even when she whispered, “Believe,” in my ear.

EPILOGUE


How do you like that?

Judy had meant it.

When I was finally able to settle down and stop crying, I found myself to be about the happiest I’d ever been in my whole life. Filthy, worn out and hurting all over, but…spectacular!

So that’s pretty much where the story ends.

I’ve got to stop it somewhere, right? This seems like a good place, since all the bad guys are dead, Judy and I are safe, and we’ve agreed to hit the road, together, for parts unknown.

There are still a few things that ought to be told, but I’ll try to be brief.


For starters, there at the camp when I finally finished crying, I took off my skirt and we both used it to wipe most the blood and assorted yuck off our bodies.

Then I searched the pockets of Steve’s shorts and gathered all the keys.

We buried Steve. Now, that was a chore!

When he was underground, we took down the tent and made the whole campsite go away.

We searched out the van, tossed the tent and some other odds and ends inside (including an astonishing and horrible collection of Polaroid photos that we’d found in the tent), started up the van with Steve’s keys, and drove back to Serena and Charlie’s house.

There, we took a quick shower in the master bathroom. (How wonderful to be really clean again!) Then we helped patch each other with an assortment of bandages, pads and tape. You should’ve seen us. We ended up looking like a couple of mummies.

We got dressed, borrowing shorts and tops and footwear from Serena.

By that time, it was about one o’clock in the morning. We still had quite a lot of night left. So we shuttled Elroy’s car (with him in it), back to Miller’s Woods and left it in the parking area near the picnic grounds.

Then we drove the van over to Judy’s apartment building. Scouting around, we found Tony’s car in the parking structure. The neighborhood seemed quiet. Maybe the body had been discovered and the place was staked out by cops. But we doubted it.

If I’d had Tony’s keys, I might’ve moved his car to a new location. But I’d long ago (the previous night), thrown them into the campfire. I could’ve dug them out while Judy and I were breaking camp, but it hadn’t occurred to me. Anyway, I suppose it’s just as well. Trying to move Tony’s car might’ve set off a whole new series of problems. You know how it is: everything is connected. Wires, wires, everywhere. So his car stayed put.

Up in Judy’s apartment, I helped her pack. We made several trips down to the van. Though we had to leave a lot of her stuff behind, we took everything that was truly important to her. Then we drove on back to Serena and Charlie’s house.

We parked the van in the garage.

Judy hurried upstairs with me, and helped me pack. We made a few trips down to the van. When I was satisfied that I had everything truly important—including the tapes from the answering machines, the five thousand dollars in cash from poor Murphy, and the autographed copy of his book—I locked up my room for the last time. Downstairs, I removed the license plates from my car and put them on the van. I also spent a couple of minutes in my car, signing it over to Serena.

Then, with me carrying the saber, we went to the main house. The sun was rising. We desperately needed to sleep, but we couldn’t risk it. Before too much longer, one of the bodies was sure to be discovered.

They were all over the town and woods, like bombs that might go off at any moment.

So we didn’t even try to sleep. Instead, we went to work cleaning up the mess that Elroy had left behind, thanks to Steve. In the guest bathroom, we scrubbed the walls and toilet and tub and floor. Then we worked on the carpet stains.

Which were pretty much hopeless.

I’d known they would be.

There was just no easy way around those stains. Lies would probably work with Serena and Charlie, but if the police should get involved…

Anyway, I would be gone. They could make whatever they wanted of the bloodstains.

By the time Judy and I finished our attempts to clean things up, it was about eight o’clock in the morning. Together, we made coffee and breakfast for ourselves, for each other. We had a delicious, leisurely meal.

While Judy cleaned up the breakfast mess, I wrote a note. It went like this:



Dear Serena and Charlie,Great news! An old friend dropped by—someone I hadn’t seen in years. We really hit it off. The upshot is, I’m going away with him. Whatever I’ve left behind, including my car, is yours. I’ve signed the pink slip for you. It’s in the glove compartment.I’m not sure when I’ll be back this way again. But thanks for everything. You’ve been great friends and landlords. I’ll miss you and the kids.Give my love to Debbie and Jeff.When I get settled, I’ll give you a call.Love and kisses,AliceP. S. I’m so sorry about the blood stains on your carpet. I had a minor accident with a beer bottle. Jim and I did our best to clean the stains, but you may need to replace the carpet. Maybe you can pay for it by selling my car.Bye,Me



I propped up the note in the middle of the kitchen table.

Just before leaving, I cleaned the saber, dried it thoroughly, and hung it up on the wall above the fireplace where it belonged.

On our way out of town in the van, we stopped at our bank. We both had accounts at the same branch, which was not very strange when you consider the size of Chester. We went in separately, ten minutes apart, and withdrew our money. It didn’t come to much. But added to the cash from Murphy, we had enough to get by on for a while.

Back in the van, we headed for the city limits.


During our travels, we followed the newspaper, TV and radio accounts of what came to be known as the Miller’s Woods Massacre. It was a big story. A huge story. I mean, you’re not supposed to have that sort of slaughter in quiet, small towns like Chester.

Here are the basics.

Elroy’s body, found where we’d left it, triggered a major search of Miller’s Woods. Which led to the discoveries of several shallow graves. They not only dug up Milo, Steve and Marilyn, but two more female corpses that we knew nothing about.

When they found Tony’s dismembered body in the trunk of his car, they figured he’d been done in by the same culprit who cut off Elroy’s head. This connected Tony to the Miller’s Woods Massacre, even though his body was discovered several miles away, in a parking space at Judy’s apartment building.

Which dragged Judy into the picture.

Judy, missing and presumed dead. The authorities seem to think that she’s buried somewhere in Miller’s Woods, but they eventually quit looking for her body.

Murphy Scott, the manager of Tony’s apartment complex, may or may not have been murdered in connection with the Miller’s Woods Massacre. His death might’ve been an unrelated murder, or an accident. They just don’t know. Nicely ironic, if you ask me. The mystery writer’s death, in the midst of so much mayhem, remains a mystery.

In the course of the entire investigation, so far as I know, my name has never come up.


As for all that has happened to Judy and I since leaving Chester, I could make another whole book out of it. But I won’t. Not for now, anyway. Maybe never.

There are a couple of items I should mention, though.

For one thing, I was in the doctor’s office last month and read in Entertainment Weekly that this really major actor has signed on to star in a film version of a movie called The Dark Pit, from the novel of that title by the late Murphy Scott.

Cool, huh?

He would’ve liked that.

It made me awfully sad, though.

The other thing is, Judy and I are going to be mothers. Both of us. We’re due at about the same time, early in April. Sounds corny, I know. I mean, like a soap opera or something. But you might say it’s sort of a mixed blessing.

The father of my baby has to be Murphy. Which is wonderful, I think. Wonderful and sad, like the fact that they’re going to make a movie of his book, only better than that, and worse. Him being dead…

But Judy’s child—well, we don’t know who the father is.

Possibly Tony. But he’s a long shot, considering the time element. The father is almost certainly Milo or Steve.

Not exactly the best news.

Genes count for plenty. Do we really want to bring a kid into the world if half his genes come from a vicious rapist, a sadist, a thrill-killer, a cannibal?

Judy and I talked about terminating the pregnancy.

But we decided against it.

For one thing, we wanted nothing more to do with killing.

For another, half the baby’s genes will be from Judy, and that’s got to count for plenty.


RAVE REVIEWS FOR RICHARD LAYMON!


“I’ve always been a Laymon fan. He manages to raise serious gooseflesh.”

—Bentley Little


“Laymon is incapable of writing a disappointing book.”

—New York Review of Science Fiction


“Laymon always takes it to the max. No one writes like him and you’re going to have a good time with anything he writes.”

—Dean Koontz


“If you’ve missed Laymon, you’ve missed a treat.”

—Stephen King


“A brilliant writer.”

—Sunday Express


“I’ve read every book of Laymon’s I could get my hands on. I’m absolutely a longtime fan.”

—Jack Ketchum, author of The Girl Next Door

MORE PRAISE FOR RICHARD LAYMON!


“One of horror’s rarest talents.”

—Publishers Weekly


“Laymon is, was, and always will be king of the hill.”

—Horror World


“Laymon is an American writer of the highest caliber.”

—Time Out


“Laymon is unique. A phenomenon. A genius of the grisly and the grotesque.”

—Joe Citro, The Blood Review


“Laymon doesn’t pull any punches. Everything he writes keeps you on the edge of your seat.”

—Painted Rock Reviews


“One of the best, and most reliable, writers working today.”

—Cemetery Dance


Загрузка...