Dark Mountain

by Richard Laymon

  “I’d really like that.”

  “Great.” He let out a nervous laugh. “This is so weird.”

  “What’s weird?”

  “Asking you for a date. I mean, like we were almost strangers or something.”

  “We’re the same people who were in the mountains, Nick.”

  “I know. I guess so.”

  “You guess so?” She laughed softly.

  “It’s just that, you know, now we’re back. It’s strange.”

  “I haven’t changed. I still feel the same about you.”

  A smile trembled on Nick’s lips. “I feel the same, too. I really miss you. How about seven o’clock?”

  “Fine. Just let me check with Dad. Hold on a minute.”

  Nick waited. He took a deep, shaky breath. He’d done it, he’d asked her and she’d seemed as eager as he was. I still feel the same about you. It was almost too good to believe. He was already nervous, anticipating the date.

  “Okay,” she said. “It’s all set. Tomorrow night at seven?”

  “Great. I’ll see you then.”

  “Do you know how to find the house?”

  “No, but Dad…” He didn’t want to lose the sound of Julie’s voice. “Maybe you’d better tell me.”

  There was blue terry cloth under Karen’s face. Her lungs felt on fire, pain blasting through her body as a spasm of coughing shook her. Someone’s hand was rubbing her back. As she lifted her head, nausea swept through her. She managed to get to her knees and twist around, briefly meeting Meg’s worried eyes before scurrying to the toilet and vomiting.

  When she finished, she sat on the toilet seat, sobbing and coughing, gasping for breath. Through teary eyes, she watched Meg fold up the bloody bathmat. She unrolled some tissue, wiped her eyes, her mouth and chin.

  “How’s the noggin?” Meg asked in her low, husky voice.

  Karen groaned. She drew fingers through her wet hair, and felt a lump above her ear.

  “Thank God I heard you yell. I was about to turn on the TV.” Meg opened the medicine cabinet. She took down a box, slid a tampon out, and tore off its wrapper. She handed it to Karen.

  While Karen inserted it, Meg pulled the bathtub stopper. “I tell you, kiddo, you scared the shit out of me. How’re you feeling? Should I run you over to emergency?”

  “I’m okay,” she muttered.

  “I was gonna give you about ten more seconds to wake up, and then I was gonna call the paramedics.”

  “How long was I out?”

  Meg shook her head. “No idea. Maybe three or four minutes, I don’t know. I just knew your ticker was still ticking and you were breathing. I figured you’d come around, sooner or later, but I started to have my doubts.”

  “What a mess.”

  “The bathmat’s a goner. I’ll clean up the rest after you’re in bed.”

  “No, I’ll—”

  “You’re in no condition to do anything, kiddo.”

  Karen looked down at herself, wrinkled her nose, and unrolled more toilet paper. As she rubbed away streaks of blood, she said, “I’ve gotta take another shower.”

  “I suppose you do. Sit tight for a second.” Meg hurried from the bathroom. Karen continued to clean herself. Soon, Meg returned with a spool of tape. Reaching up, she worked at securing the shower curtain to its rod. “Think it was the curse?” she asked.

  “I know it was the curse.”

  Meg chuckled.

  “A week early.”

  “Stress’ll do that. On the bright side, at least you know the bastard didn’t knock you up.”

  “I knew that before,” she said.

  When the curtain was in place, Meg ran the water. Karen clung to her arm for support, and staggered on wobbly legs to the tub. At her friend’s urging, she didn’t try to stand while she washed. She sat under the hot spray. With Meg waiting on the other side of the curtain, she shampooed and soaped herself and rinsed.

  Meg stood by, hands out to catch her, while she climbed from the tub and dried. “Safe now?”

  “Yeah. Thanks.”

  “You finish drying. I’ll get us a little something.”

  “A little what?”

  “I’ll surprise you.”

  Left alone, Karen wrapped herself in the towel. She washed down two aspirin tablets with a glassful of cold water. She brushed her teeth. Then she drew a comb through her hair, wincing as she snagged tangles.

  “In your room,” Meg called from the hallway.

  Karen went to her bedroom. Meg, just inside, greeted her with a wink. The covers of her bed had been pulled back, showing her flowered blue sheets. Her chair had been dragged close to the bedside. On its seat rested a tray adorned with crackers, a wedge of cheddar, a small wheel of Gouda, and a cheese knife. Two wine goblets stood on the lamp table, and beside them was an open bottle of white wine.

  In spite of her aches, Karen managed a smile.

  “Medicine,” Meg said. “Cheese and crackers to settle your gut. A Masson Sauvignon Blanc to help you sleep.”

  “You’re really fantastic.”

  “I know.”

  Karen put on her nightgown. She climbed into bed, pulled up the top sheet, and eased herself against the headboard. Meg poured the wine. She set the tray across Karen’s lap, and sat on the chair.

  They lifted their glasses. “Here’s how,” Meg said.

  “Here’s to you,” Karen said. “You saved my life.”

  Meg blushed. “What are roommates for?”

  They clinked their glasses, and drank.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  “A decent meal,” Arnold proclaimed, pulling up his chair to the breakfast table. He sniffed his plateful of bacon and fried eggs, and sighed loudly. “Ah, the comforts of home.”

  Smiling, Alice set a plate down in front of Heather. “I didn’t see you turning up your nose at your other breakfasts.”

  “You even wanted mine,” Rose reminded him.

  “I’ll eat anything in the mountains. But this, now—this is real food.”

  “I wonder what’s keeping Nick,” Alice said.

  “He’s probably getting ready for his big date.”

  “At nine in the morning?”

  Arnold laughed, and started to cut his bacon.

  Alice carried the final two plates to the table, then went to the kitchen doorway and called for Nick.

  “Right there!” he yelled.

  “Your egg’ll get cold,” Alice warned. She returned to the table, sat down, and sighed, glad to be off her feet. She didn’t look forward to grocery shopping, walking the aisles with stiff legs and blistered feet. There wasn’t much choice, though. Not if they wanted supper to night.

  She heard the shuffle of Nick’s moccasins on the kitchen floor. He came up behind her, and sat at the table. He gave her a quick smile. His eyes had a jittery look. “Are you all right?” Alice asked.

  “Sure. I didn’t sleep too well, is all.”

  “Nervous about the big date?” Arnold asked.

  Shrugging, Nick picked up his fork. It quivered in his shaky hand. He started to cut his eggs with the edge of it. Alice felt uneasy watching him, as if his tension were contagious. She started to eat, but barely noticed the taste of her food. Obviously, the boy was bothered by more than anxiety over tonight’s date with Julie. He’d been through a nightmare, and she couldn’t begin to guess how deeply it might’ve affected him. Julie might help take his mind off the rest of it.

  “Where’ll you be taking her?” she asked.

  Nick shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll have to check the paper. There’re all kinds of movie theaters in the Valley.”

  “Plenty of drive-ins,” Arnold said.

  “I don’t want you taking her to a drive-in.”

  “Why not?” Rose asked. “They’re neat.”

  “Nick knows why not.”

  “We go,” Rose persisted.

  “That’s different.”

  “Why?”

  “Just you never
mind, young lady.”

  “We used to call them passion pits.”

  “Arnold!”

  Rose tilted back her head and smiled, showing a mouthful of chewed bacon. “Oh, I get it.”

  “What?” Heather asked.

  “Mom doesn’t want ’em making out.”

  “Some of my fondest memories…” Arnold started.

  “That’s enough.” She turned to Nick. He was staring at his plate as if oblivious to the conversation, swabbing up the last of his egg yolk with a bit of toast. “You will not take Julie to a drive-in. I’m sure her father wouldn’t approve, either.”

  “I’m not arguing,” Nick said.

  “Especially on a first date—”

  “He’s not arguing,” Arnold interrupted.

  “Okay. I’m not one to nag. I just want to be sure we understand each other.”

  “I understand,” Nick said.

  “So,” Arnold said, “what’s on the agenda for today?”

  “I, for one, have to go grocery shopping.” Alice got up from the table. “Who wants to come along?” She picked up the coffeepot.

  “Me,” Rose blurted.

  “Me, too,” said Heather.

  “You’d better stay home,” Arnold told her, “and keep off your feet.”

  “Oh, Dad.”

  “He’s right,” Alice said, stepping around the table to refill his mug. “The more you stay off that foot, the quicker it’ll heal.”

  “Time heals all heels,” Nick said, and smiled. His first real smile of the morning.

  Alice poured him more coffee, then refilled her own mug and took the pot back to the counter. “Anything special I need to pick up at the store?”

  “Vodka and Dos Equis,” Arnold said.

  “Of course.” She sat down and took a sip of hot coffee, pleased that she’d turned the conversation to a less objectionable direction. “I think I’ll pick up a new Ace bandage. The old one’s a disgrace.”

  “I used up the Ben-Gay last night,” Nick said.

  Arnold sniffed. “So that’s what I smell. Thought it was Rose’s breath.”

  The girl make a face at him, and Heather laughed.

  “I think I lost my comb,” Nick said.

  “Better buy him two or three,” Flash said. “A young man in love is lost without his combs.”

  Rose made an O with her mouth. Heather giggled. Nick’s face turned as red as a ripe tomato. “Jeez, Dad,” he muttered.

  Arnold was beaming. “Oh, did I say something wrong?”

  “How’s your dandruff shampoo holding out?” Alice asked her husband.

  “Fine,” he said. “A little low on the pit-slick, though.”

  “May I be excused now?” Nick asked. “I want to air out the sleeping bags.”

  “Just throw them over the line,” Arnold said.

  Nick left the kitchen. Arnold met Alice’s gaze, and shrugged. “You embarrassed the boy half to death,” she said.

  “Is he really in love?” Heather whispered.

  “Your father was just being his usual obnoxious self.”

  Arnold chuckled.

  “I bet he is,” Rose said.

  “Regardless,” Alice warned. “It’s nothing to poke fun at. Being in love is a very serious matter.”

  “Especially when you’re seventeen,” Arnold added.

  “Come on, Rose, help me clear the table. I want to beat the crowds to the supermarket.”

  Benny held a plate under the kitchen faucet, and watched the steaming water melt away the clumps of sugar left over from the cinnamon rolls. When the plate looked clean, he handed it to Tanya. She put it into the dishwasher, and he grabbed another plate. “Do you think they’d let a kid use the library?” he asked.

  “What library?” his cousin asked.

  “At the college.”

  “What is it you’re looking for? Maybe I could find it for you.”

  “Just some stuff.”

  Tanya set two coffee mugs upside down in the machine, and stared at him. She raised a dark eyebrow. “Occult stuff?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” he admitted. “Witches and things.”

  “Did you try your bedroom?”

  “Yeah, last night. I haven’t got that much, though. Nothing with the details. And the public library stinks.”

  “They probably don’t want to corrupt the youth.”

  “Anyway, what I was thinking was that maybe I could go along with you and take a look around while you’re in class.”

  “For two and a half hours? Aren’t you afraid you’ll get bored?”

  “I never get bored. Dad says boredom’s a sign of a weak mind.”

  Tanya grinned, brushed a lock of hair away from her forehead, and took the plate from Benny. “Well, you’re welcome to come along, if that’s what you want. But you’d better check with your dad first. He might have some chores for you. Go on ahead. I’ll finish with the dishes.”

  “Thanks,” he said, and hurried outside. His father, in his faded blue swimming trunks, was down on one knee beside the pool, checking the thermometer. “Hey, is it okay if I go over to the college with Tanya? It’s all right with her if it’s all right with you.”

  “Fine with me. What’s up?”

  “Nothing. I just want to fool around in the library.”

  Dad’s mouth curved in a half smile. “The only known copies of the Necronomicon are said to reside in the Miskatonic University library and—”

  Benny laughed. “You know about that?”

  “You’d be surprised what your old dad knows. I ain’t completely illiterate, boy. Anyway, go ahead if you want. Be warned, though. Karen’ll be showing up in an hour or so.”

  Benny’s eagerness faded. He didn’t want to miss Karen. On the other hand, this was too important to delay. Maybe he wouldn’t find anything helpful in the college library, but he had to give it a try. “Well,” he said, “I’d better go anyway. We’ll be back around one.”

  “Karen should still be here. She’s staying for supper, I imagine. Good hunting.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  They were on a quiet, tree-shadowed lane no more than six blocks from home, Rose fooling with the radio dial to bring in a rock station, when a German shepherd wandered out from behind a parked car. Alice gasped. She threw an arm across Rose’s chest, knocking the girl backward as her foot shot down on the brake pedal. The tires shrieked. The dog swung its head around, seemed to glare at Alice, made no move to get out of the way. The hood hid it from view an instant before it was struck. The impact jolted the station wagon. Alice whimpered as the left front tire bumped over the dog.

  “Oh, Mom!” Rose cried. She had a look of horror in her eyes.

  Alice glanced at the rearview mirror. The shadowy lane was deserted behind them. She didn’t know what to do. She wanted to drive on and get far away from it all, but she couldn’t do that without a rear tire passing over the dog. The thought of that sickened her. Her right leg, still stretched out and mashing the brake pedal to the floor, started to bounce in a frenzy as if its muscles had all gone berserk.

  Rose fumbled with her seat belt.

  “Just wait a—”

  “We’ve gotta help it, Mom!” She flung open her door and leaped out.

  “Rose! Damn it!”

  The girl, paying no attention, was running around the front of the car. With a shaky hand, Alice turned off the ignition. She set the emergency brake, struggled to free herself from the seat belt, and shoved open her door. Her jumpy right leg started to collapse when she put weight on it. She hung onto the door to hold herself up. “Rose!”

  It was too late. The girl was standing rigid by the front tire, staring down, her pretty features twisted hideously, palms pressed to her ears as if to block out a terrible noise.

  Alice glanced down at the crushed remains of the dog. She raised her eyes quickly to Rose. “There!” she snapped. “Are you happy? I told you not to look!” She hadn’t, not really, but she’d tried. “I wish,
damn it, just once, you’d listen to me when I tell you something!”

  The girl kept staring at the dog. “Oh, Mom,” she muttered, and dropped her hands to her sides.

  “Did you hear anything I told you?”

  “We’ve gotta help it,” Rose said again, and started to cry.

  “Oh, Rose, Rose.” Alice hugged her daughter fiercely. She started to cry. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m sorry I yelled. I just didn’t want you to see. I’m sorry.”

  “We’ve gotta help it.”

  “It’s beyond our help, honey. It’s with God now.”

  “No. Please. It can’t be dead.”

  “I’m sorry, honey.”

  “We’ve gotta take it to a vet.”

  “It’s dead. There’s nothing a vet can do for it.”

  “Please. If we don’t try…We’ve gotta try!”

  “Trouble?” someone called.

  Alice spotted a young, bearded man striding down the nearest driveway. Please, she thought, don’t let it be his dog. “It ran out,” she said. “I couldn’t stop in time. It just…ran right out in front of me.”

  He stepped past the front of the car, and looked down. “You sure creamed it, all right. What a mess.”

  Alice wiped her eyes. “Do you know who it belongs to?”

  “Never seen it before.” He crouched down close to the remains. “Doesn’t seem to have a collar. A stray maybe.”

  “We’re gonna take it to a vet,” Rose said.

  The man raised his eyebrows. “You want to put that in your car?”

  “No—”

  “Yes! We have to, Mom. Please.”

  “Honey, it’s dead.”

  “No, it’s not!”

  “Looks pretty dead to me,” the man said. He sounded a bit amused. “I’m no authority, but the way its guts are spread around—”

  “Stop that!” Alice snapped.

  “Sorry. I didn’t…Tell you what. If you really want to take it with you, I’ll give you a hand. Let’s not mess up your car, though. You want to hang on a minute, I’ve got some Hefty bags out in the garage. Go ahead and open your tailgate. I’ll be back in two shakes.”

  Alice stood mute while he hurried away. She didn’t want the awful thing in her car. But she felt trapped. She couldn’t drive away without running over it again—not unless she first dragged it out from under the car. Besides, Rose would never forgive her.