The Devil's End

by D A Fowler

  “Which means,” Dennis grinned, “that Nancy and Jay’s plans are to boff each other’s brains out.”

  Marla slammed her door shut. “Wouldn’t surprise me, even though Nancy really doesn’t even like Jay that much, she just goes with him because he’s captain of the football team. She told me once she could hardly stand to kiss him. But don’t you dare tell him I said that, though.”

  “Sounds like you’re pissed at Nancy.”

  “I am.” Marla closed her eyes for a moment, nervously biting her lower lip. “She’s acting like we aren’t even friends anymore, which is fine with me…what do I need her for? I don’t know what her problem is…I haven’t done anything to her. Yet. But ever since she…” Marla paused, her eyes boring into his. “Can you keep a secret? I mean it, Dennis. You can’t say anything to anybody. Though I guess the way it worked out, we didn’t really do anything wrong. I mean the door did open by itself. We didn’t break in, you know, but I doubt that makes it all right to just go on in and take whatever you want…”

  Dennis cocked his head; he hadn’t the vaguest idea what the hell she was talking about. “What door? Where? Mind giving me a few more details?”

  “The Obers’ tomb,” she answered tersely. “Nancy and I talked about breaking in that place for about three years, ever since I told her my gramma’s stories about Morganna Ober, their daughter. You should’ve seen Nancy’s eyes light up. Anyway, we just talked about it for a long time; I think Nancy was too afraid she’d get disappointed. As long as we were in suspense, without knowing for sure what was in there, she could come up with all kinds of possibilities. I never really thought we’d actually go through with it. If nothing really unusual was in there, then the fun would be over.”

  Dennis sighed. “Are you making a long story longer, or what? Just spit it out.”

  Marla pursed her lips and shot him a dirty look. “We made definite plans to do it last Saturday night—all of a sudden she decided it was time, since next year we’ll be away at college. So Thursday I went up there by myself to check it out, see what kind of tools we would need and stuff. That was the day we got in all that trouble too, so I wasn’t in a big hurry to get home. So I got up there, and it looked like there really wasn’t any way to get in without dynamite. I pushed on the door, and it was solid—didn’t budge. Then I stepped back a few feet and about fifteen seconds or so later the door started opening by itself. About scared me to death.”

  Dennis chuckled slightly and stuck a cigarette in his mouth. “You girls are so stupid. I’ve been in that tomb before; you think you were the first to come up with that idea? Me and Wayne got in there a couple of years ago, just fucking around. No big deal.”

  Marla gasped. “How did you get in? Did the door just open for you too?”

  “Nah; Wayne picked the lock. He’s good at shit like that. I think he boogered it up, though; we couldn’t get it to stay locked when we left. The door must’ve just gotten rusted up or something, and came loose when you pushed on it. What did you think, that one of the Obers got up and opened it for you?” His eyes danced with ridicule as he puffed on his cigarette.

  “So it was you,” Marla shot back accusingly. “What did you and Wayne do with the bodies?”

  “We didn’t do anything with ’em,” he said defensively. “What are you talking about?”

  “They’re gone, that’s what I’m talking about. Nancy said the coffins were empty.”

  “Well, they sure as hell weren’t empty when we were there, and we didn’t touch ’em. Wayne wanted to take the skulls home and make candle holders out of ’em, but I said no. You get caught with something like that and you’re up shit creek. So what, you didn’t go in? Just Nancy?”

  Marla’s eyes were round as saucers. “So what the hell happened to the bodies?”

  “Fuck, I dunno. Somebody else came along later and stole ’em, I guess.”

  Dennis was getting tired of the conversation, and he still didn’t know what any of it had to do with Marla being pissed at Nancy. “What’s this all about, anyway? What’s the big deal?”

  “I had a strange feeling that Nancy found something she wasn’t telling me about. Something about the look on her face, and she kept her right hand hidden under that awful cape. I forgot to tell you, she found a gross old cape in there, wadded up on the floor, she said, in front of Myrantha’s coffin.”

  Dennis found this slightly interesting. “Both the corpses had black capes on when we saw them,” he commented dryly.

  “Did you see anything else? Anything unusual?”

  “No, Marla, just a couple of dead people. What did you think there’d be, a goddamn spell book?” He sprayed laughter.

  “Spell book.” Marla tried the words on her tongue. After being in the tomb, Nancy hadn’t seemed so distraught about the trouble they were in. Said just not to worry about it. And the next morning, of all the luck, Montgomery had a mysterious attack and got taken to the hospital. Nancy’s face, when she’d first spotted Montgomery in the office. No dismay, no anger. Surprise. She’d been surprised to see him. Proof positive in Marla’s book; she’d been right on target.

  “I know something really bad is going on,” she said finally. “I want to go in the tomb. I want to see for myself if those coffins are really empty.”

  “Whatever turns you on.” Dennis fired up the Monte Carlo and peeled out of the circle drive just as Roger and Beth Snell pulled up in their white Volvo at the opposite end.

  Even though Dennis was fairly muscular and could hold his own in a fistfight, his presence was little comfort to Marla in such a dark place of death. Chilled wind rustled through the treetops, swayed branches, gave motion to ominous shadows. She could hardly believe she had come back, and after the sun had gone down, no less. But she had to know now. She clung to him as they approached the tomb’s metal door, looking like the very doorway to Hell in the impotent glow of Dennis’s flashlight. At every sound other than their own footfalls, Marla’s heart leapt into her throat. She longed for extra eyes in the back of her head so she could see in every direction at once. But most of all she longed to get the hell out of there before she had a massive coronary. The place reeked of evil.

  Dennis might have been taking a stroll through Disneyland in broad daylight. He knew with comfortable certainty that dead things stayed dead. Now if they were strolling through some place like Central Park in New York City at night, that would be something else. Living people could do all kinds of damage to their fellow beings. But not the dead. They could only lie there and rot some more, send up more stink. And that’s all they would ever do. There were no homicidal lunatics in the graveyard, or residing anywhere near Sharon Valley. If anyone else did appear, it would most likely be a high school or junior high kid, a familiar, friendly, thrill seeking face. Nothing green or red-eyed or fanged. The only animal life they were likely to encounter would be a deer, perhaps a raccoon.

  He pushed the door open, illuminating the cracked concrete floor. “I suppose you want me to go in with you?”

  “Hell yes, I want you to go in. I’m not going to touch those horrible coffins.”

  Dennis led the way with a grunt of disgust. A coyote howled in the distance, turning Marla’s blood to ice. “Hurry, please. Let’s get it over with.”

  As Dennis brought the flashlight up and around to shine on Myrantha Ober’s coffin, Marla caught a glimpse of some figures drawn on the back wall. “Shine it over there again,” she commanded, pointing. “I thought I saw something.”

  “What?” Dennis bathed the wall in mellow light, then froze, a shuttered memory colliding with his present vision.

  Marla clutched him tightly. “Look at that, Dennis. And the inverted cross…that’s the sign of the Devil. At least Nancy wasn’t lying about that.” Her words echoed in the small chamber; even their breathing seemed far too loud. Marla’s heartbeats were cannon explosions.

&nbs
p; “It looks like the same—” Dennis began.

  “Same what?” She shook him roughly. “You act like that wasn’t there when you were in here before. Was it, Dennis? Was that there a few years ago?”

  He shook his head slowly. “No, it wasn’t. But just the other night…I was up here, on the overlook, and heard somebody scream. Found a dead white rabbit on one of the flat grave markers down near the end, and those same markings were around it. I think. They look the same. Anyway, it doesn’t mean jack shit.”

  For a moment Marla thought she was going to faint. “You didn’t…didn’t see anyone?”

  “No. But Jay’s Charger was parked up there. That’s why I stopped. I asked him about it the next day, and he said he hadn’t heard anything. Said he and Nancy were down the other side at the Boy Scout camping place. I’m sure somebody’s just playing a joke. Jay and Nancy, probably.”

  “I don’t believe this is a joke, Dennis. Open the coffin.”

  Dennis opened the lid and shined the light inside. Marla forced herself to look, then let out the breath she’d been holding. “Well, that’s something else Nancy didn’t lie about, but after what you just told me…take me back home, Dennis. I’ve got a phone call to make.”

  Lana shoved the pile of textbooks onto the floor and muffled a scream in her pillow. When she lifted her face, Bruce patted her on the head.

  “Feel better now?”

  She smiled. “Much.”

  He glanced blearily at his Mickey Mouse watch. “It’s getting late. I’d better—”

  “Oh please, you can’t leave yet. We haven’t really had much time to talk about anything but this crappy schoolwork. I want to know more about you. I don’t even know if you have any brothers or sisters.”

  “I’ve got twin sisters four years younger than me,” Bruce answered with a sour look on his face. “They drive me nuts. My stepfather is a Forest Ranger, and my mom’s a bookkeeper. We’re what you call lower middle class. Or is that upper lower class?”

  Lana pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t say things like that. You don’t have anything to be ashamed of.”

  How little did she know…

  “Well, you haven’t seen me naked yet.”

  His quip hung in the air for an interminable length of time; Bruce flushed with embarrassment. “Hey, I didn’t mean—”

  “I know, you were just bein’ Mr. Funny again.” Lana giggled, but her heart was mysteriously pounding.

  Bruce wasn’t sure if that was entirely true, but he wasn’t prepared to deal with a subject like that in seriousness. He was still a virgin, and naturally wanted to rid himself of that plague, but he was afraid. Afraid he might fuck it up. If anyone could fuck up fucking, he probably could. He didn’t do much of anything else right.

  His only escape from the subject was a leap into absurdity. “Have you ever seen an elephant barf?”

  “Oh Bruce, yuck.” Lana screwed up her face. “Why? Have you?”

  “Yeah, fed one a bunch of cotton candy at the circus when I was a kid. Out came this huge, pink gooey mass…turned out to be the lady that rode around on his trunk.”

  Lana’s gullibility had its limits. “Would you lie about somethin’ like that?”

  “Yeah.” His ridiculous dodging maneuver hadn’t worked. He could still feel the reverberations of his previous comment; they continued to bounce between the two of them in tangible waves. There seemed only one sensible thing left to do: slay his dragon. He cupped his hand around her neck and drew her toward him. Her eyes fluttered, then closed. Her lips parted. Bruce’s body flooded with excitement. Lips touched, tongues probed.

  The door flew open.

  “Ommmm! I’m tellin’,” Luke declared loudly. “You’re s’pose to be in here doin’ homework, an’ all you’re doin’ is kissin’!”

  The couple instantly disengaged themselves and sat bolt upright, both glaring at the unwanted intruder. Lana shouted, “Luke, you know good an’ well you’re s’pose to knock on a door before bargin’ in, Creepo! Now what the…what do you want? An’ for your information, we have been doin’ homework, up till just about thirty seconds ago.”

  Bruce made the Boy Scout sign in support of her testimony.

  Luke sneered. “Yeah, sure you have. Well, what I want is Sam. An’ also Mom said to tell you, it’s time for your friend to go home.”

  A slight look of alarm crossed Lana’s face. “Sam’s not out in the garage?”

  “No, I thought you had ’im in here. Great. You don’t know where he is?”

  “You were the last one playin’ with ’im, Luke Bremmers. If he’s gone, then it’s your—”

  Carol appeared in the doorway behind her son, her wire-rimmed hexagon reading glasses perched on her nose. “What’s all the shoutin’ about?”

  “Sam’s gone,” Luke wailed. “An’ Lana says it’s my fault. It’s not. I put him back in the garage ’fore supper, an’ now he’s just gone. I thought Lana had ’im in here.”

  “Well, go check outside,” Carol said, silently adding a prayer of thanks. It would be nothing to her if the dog was never found. “But stop the yellin’, okay? I’ve got a headache.”

  Luke dashed off down the hallway. Carol gave Lana a fleeting, guilty glance and said with challengeable authority, “I think it’s probably about time for your company to go home.”

  “Just as I was saying,” Bruce said cheerfully, sensing the tension, like a Bengal tiger preparing to spring, rising in Lana. He didn’t want to be the cause of a mother-daughter blowout.

  Lana opened her mouth to argue, but quickly snapped it shut again. Not in front of Bruce. She silently scooted off the bed and put her shoes on, intending to walk him out to his pickup. Carol disappeared like an unpleasant thought. The way Lana saw it, her mother’s simpering actions of late concretely proved her guilt; Lana had hit the nail right on the head. Her mother had actually asked for the transfer. All she cared about was herself. She probably wanted Bruce to leave simply because she was jealous of the fact her daughter had a boyfriend. Misery loves company.

  Luke was frantically whistling for Sam up and down the block, dashing in and out of shadows, occasionally calling out in a loud, harsh whisper, “Sam, Sam! C’mere boy! Here, Sam!”

  “If that dog’s gone, Spiro’s gonna be real upset,” Lana said, remembering with dread the scene she’d witnessed in the school parking lot earlier that day. “I told him I’d take care of Sam. He’s gonna hate me.” The thought made her shudder.

  They stood in the street, leaning against the left bed wall of the pickup. Bruce put his arms around her, shielding her from the cold wind. “If he’s got a crush on you, I doubt you have anything to worry about. Jeez, I couldn’t believe him throwing that guy today, though.” He remembered too. “He’s never done anything like that before that I know of…I’ve seen people spit right in his face, and he’d just turn around and walk away.”

  “How awful.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t think anybody’s going to try something like that again, unless they have a fervent death wish. Word will get around pretty fast.”

  “You really think Spiro could…?”

  “Somebody like that, who the hell knows?” Their eyes met; the subject of Spiro dispersed like a vapor. Now there were only the two of them in the entire universe, nothing to worry about, nothing to do but explore and enjoy.

  “Kiss me,” Lana demanded softly.

  Bruce slowly lowered his face to hers, but instead of kissing her, for which she was prepared, he whispered teasingly, “What will you pay me if I do?”

  Lana’s eyes flew back open, unable to focus with Bruce’s only two inches away. “Are you ever serious?” she grumbled.

  He shrugged. “From time to time.” He buried his lips on hers.

  A tearful Luke came through the front door after a fruitless twenty-minute search. His
mother was sipping a glass of milk on the couch while flipping through the TV Guide. The shower was running; Lana was in the bathroom.

  Luke closed the door and flung himself into a chair. “I couldn’t find him anywhere, Mom. Sam’s flat gone.”

  Carol shook her head with pretended sympathy. “That’s too bad, honey. Well, maybe he’ll show up tomorrow.”

  “He won’t,” her son sulked. “We won’t never see him again, I just know it. I think somebody got in the garage an’ stole ’im.”

  “I don’t know…I guess that’s possible.” Carol frowned, upset by the idea that someone would steal anything—including a pup she didn’t want anyway—from her property. One of the reasons she’d chosen Sharon Valley was because of its incredibly low crime rate. “Do you think maybe one of your little friends came over to get ’im, you know, just to play with ’im or somethin’? At any rate, it’s past your bedtime. We can worry about this tomorrow.”

  Too dejected to argue, knowing full well that neither of his two friends would have taken Sam without asking, Luke silently headed for his bedroom, dragging his feet on the carpet. Carol picked up the remote control and switched channels. A man and woman were passionately engaged in a kiss. She quickly switched to another, damning Hugh Bremmers under her breath. He hadn’t even called to see if they’d gotten here safely. She supposed bitterly that he now had more important things to think about than his own children. And what was happening between her and Lana was really his fault, when you got down to the root of the matter. If he hadn’t been so obsessed with satisfying his precious ego—not to mention a certain twenty-four-year-old!—then none of this would be happening. They would all be living happily ever after.

  Lana stepped out of the shower and rubbed her hair with a towel, then wrapped it around herself, picked up her discarded clothing from the floor and went across the hall to her bedroom. After closing the door, she tossed the clothes over a chair and let the towel fall from her body. Moving toward her dresser, she studied herself in the mirror with satisfaction. The first time Greg had seen her naked, he had candidly exclaimed that she looked just like she’d walked out of a Playboy magazine.