These Unquiet Bones

by Dean Harrison

  Amy shook her head, growing increasingly uncomfortable. In the back of her mind, Dr. Massie’s voice spoke about projecting her fear of the Nightmare Man on others. How she had a tendency to do that. Amy wondered if she were doing it now and that’s why she felt so unsettled.

  The skinhead belched loudly. “So, what’s your name, cutie?”

  She didn’t take her eyes off the TV screen. “Amy.”

  “I’m Billy Brown. You a cheerleader? You look like one. Got a hot body. Nice tits, too. Wanna go have some fun upstairs?”

  The sound of shattering glass snatched Amy’s attention.

  “Asshole! Look what you did!”

  Across the room, Catherine was chastising a drunk who had shattered one of her mother’s prized Elvis collectibles.

  Shaking her head regretfully, Amy lifted her cup to her lips and took another sip of Coke.

  “Hey, you listenin’ to me?” Billy jabbed Amy’s side with his meaty elbow, making her spill her drink down the front of her blouse.

  “Shit!” She sprung to her feet, dripping cold soda. “Thanks a lot!”

  Billy shrugged. “You stuck up or somethin’?”

  Amy spun around in a flash of humiliation and nearly collided into Catherine.

  “Who invited these people,” Catherine asked. Her eyes widened as she noticed Amy’s soaked blouse. “What happened?”

  “The jerk over there.” Amy gestured over her shoulder

  “Sorry,” Catherine said. “Some of these freaks are Michael’s friends and I’ve never met them before. Swear I’m going to kill him for inviting them. Go to my room and pick something out of my closet. I’ll wash that for you tomorrow. Where is Layne?”

  “I don’t know.” Amy slammed her cup down on the coffee table. “I’m going to change shirts.”

  As she shoved her way back through the crowd, she heard Catherine yelling at Billy Brown, a friend of Michael’s.

  Should’ve known.

  She remembered when Catherine started dating Michael last spring. Amy was shocked. The guy gave her the creeps.

  He resembled a member of the trench coat mafia and acted like he’d show up to school with a shotgun and pull a Columbine. Amy wished she knew what Catherine saw in him other than sex.

  Catherine talked to her often about the sex. Amy really wished she didn’t. It disgusted her.

  So did Billy Brown, but for reasons she couldn’t define.

  She made her way through the kitchen to the foyer, and climbed the winding staircase to the second floor.

  The hallway was dark, empty and quiet. She entered Catherine’s room and turned on the light switch.

  Closing the door, she peeled off her wet shirt and thought about Billy Brown. Her embarrassment returned. Anger followed.

  The whole situation was humiliating, and it ignited a flame of fury in her chest. But the more she thought about Billy, the less angry she got.

  And the more disturbed she became. He seemed so familiar.

  His face, his cold blue eyes, gave her an inexplicable sense of dread. His crooked grin unnerved her.

  Why? Was it simply a matter of projecting her fears? Did she do that with all men, and not just her father?

  No, she didn’t with Layne. Besides, she felt she had seen Billy— or someone like him— somewhere before. She just couldn’t say who or where.

  Probably nothing. Stop obsessing.

  But she couldn’t. In her mind, Billy’s eyes still leered at her like a predator, and gave her a chill that sunk straight to the bone.

  Amy opened the closet doors and shifted through Catherine’s clothes, looking for something to wear.

  “Damn, you’re one sexy lil’ bitch!”

  She spun around. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped open. She folded her arms across her chest and stiffened. Fear gripped her heart.

  Billy Brown’s chilly eyes roamed her body as he eased the bedroom door shut and locked it.

  “Gotta be careful,” he said. “Be sure you lock doors in a house full of freaks.” A devious grin cracked along his acne-riddled face. “Never know who just might walk on in and get’cha!”

  Chapter 11

  After tossing Amy’s jacket onto Catherine’s bed, Layne headed downstairs with a stomach full of fluttering butterflies.

  Tonight’s the night, man.

  Tonight’s the night you pour your heart out to Amy. Tonight’s the night you finally tell her how you feel about her.

  In the foyer he was stopped by the sweet, pungent scent of marijuana hanging in the air. He smiled, thinking of the perfect way to cure his nervousness and ease the tension swelling in his gut.

  Layne joined the small group of stoners in the living room for a hit. After bumming a joint from some guy named Scooter, he slumped down in a wide, leather wing-backed chair and gathered his nerve.

  Tonight’s the night.

  He savored the weed.

  Tonight I lay it all on the line.

  He tried to tune out the droopy-eyed stoner in the Pink Floyd T-shirt who was sitting by the fireplace and jabbering to his dazed-looking friends about Pink Floyd and The Wizard of Oz.

  Layne hated Pink Floyd and that stupid movie. So did Amy.

  Tonight I don’t hold back. Tonight I make her see that she belongs to me. Tonight I make her mine.

  Layne finished off his joint, pushed himself to his feet, and said to the Floyd fan, “Get your head out of Oz and listen to Black Sabbath.”

  As he left the room, feeling a little more confident, he heard the phone ring. One of the stoners answered and said, “Clancy? There ain’t no Clancy here, man. Wrong number.”

  In the kitchen, Layne grabbed himself a bottle of Bud Light and headed to the noisy den.

  He found Catherine in the swarm of dancing bodies and asked her about Amy. When she told him what happened to her, his cheeks burned with fury.

  “Ah, fucking hell,” he spat. “Where is that shithead, Billy Brown?”

  “I kicked him out,” Catherine said. “I’m going to kill Michael for inviting these creeps to my house, when I find him that is. Have you seen Michael?”

  “No. But if I do…” He looked into Catherine’s narrowed eyes and reconsidered. “Ah, forget it. Amy still upstairs?”

  “Probably. I haven’t seen her since all that happened.”

  “All right. I’ll go check on her.” Layne took a long pull from his bottle of Bud and retraced his steps.

  What happened between Amy and this punk named Billy Brown would be a minor setback. He’d make everything okay again. He’d make her feel better. He’d make her happy.

  Layne was sure of it. He’d make her forget all about Billy and the Nightmare Man.

  Chapter 12

  “You’re mine, bitch! And I’m gonna teach you a lesson!”

  Amy yelped as Billy pinned her on the bed and yanked down her bra. She couldn’t believe this was happening, not to her, not on her birthday.

  Shock and terror stunned her. For a moment, she couldn’t even breathe let alone scream.

  “Damn, you got some nice tits!” He licked her right breast and groaned.

  Tears streamed down Amy’s face, but she found the will to struggle beneath his heavy weight. “Stop! Let me go!”

  He bit her nipple.

  A shriek rose up her throat. A flood of tears blurred her vision. Balling her fist, she swung out at Billy.

  He dodged the blow. “Bitch!” He punched her boob.

  More pain ripped through her, blinding her with white-hot agony, rendering her breathless. There was no stopping it, she feared. All hope was lost.

  She was going to be raped.

  But Billy suddenly rolled off her and dug his fat fingers in her hair. “You’re gonna pay for that,” he growled, wrenching her off the bed.

  Amy fell to the carpeted floor with a painful thud and cried out.

  “Fucking slut!” He pulled her up by the hair; the roots burned in her skull. “On your knees. Time to suck my snake!”
>
  At those words, something in the back of her mind snapped. All this had happened to her before. But when?

  Where?

  In my dreams?

  Dé-jà vu struck her hard, and it unlocked a door in her mind.

  In real life?

  The door creaked open, letting something out. Something secret.

  A memory.

  Oh God.

  Billy unzipped his jeans. “Kiss it goodnight!”

  A vision hit Amy harder than the tiny cock Billy shoved in her face. In the vision, a man like Billy towered over her.

  He had something for her.

  “Open them sexy lips. Get suckin’!”

  In that moment, she remembered what happened to her. And as she did one rainy night four years ago, she obeyed her abductor.

  And made him regret it.

  Chapter 13

  A hot sense of urgency knotted up in Layne’s stomach tighter and tighter as he stepped foot onto the second floor landing. A door in the hallway swung open. He cracked a knowing smile.

  Chris Cantrell and Angela Muth stumbled out of a bedroom in a fit of giggles.

  “What’re you kids up to?” Layne grinned. “Misbehaving?”

  A sudden scream cut through the air like a cold sharp blade, slicing away at their goofy smiles.

  “The fuck was that?” Chris said, wide-eyed.

  Another scream charged through the air.

  Layne’s blood chilled in his veins. The knot in his stomach grew cold. He had a terrible realization.

  “Amy!” He dropped his beer and sprinted toward the screaming.

  “BITCH!” Someone squealed behind a closed door. “YOU FUCKING BITCH!”

  Before Layne reached the knob it jiggled. The door unlocked and flung open. Amy collided into him.

  “Get away from me,” she shrieked, shoving him back into a wall.

  Layne whacked his head. Stunned, he watched as Amy dashed toward Chris and Angela who stood dumbstruck in the middle of the hallway.

  They moved out of her way as she tore past them, hugging her arms to her chest. She wasn’t wearing a shirt. She…

  “Bit my dick!”

  Layne turned his head to see a fat boy with a shaved head drop to his knees, holding his crotch in his trembling hands, tears streaking down his chubby red face.

  “Holy shit, she bit my dick!”

  Putting it all together in his head what just happened, Layne felt a surge of anger, clenched his fists, and stepped into the bedroom.

  Chapter 14

  Amy stared up at her house. The porch light was on, so was the lamp in the living room. It cast a dull yellow glow against the blinds covering the window.

  She thought about her father and grimaced. She hoped he was asleep in his chair. She didn’t want to explain herself tonight.

  In the driver seat, Layne was quiet. He had been quiet ever since leaving Catherine’s.

  Amy was thankful for that. She didn’t want to explain herself to him, either. She just wanted to crawl into the stillness and be left alone.

  Layne broke that stillness by reaching for her hand.

  Amy pulled away from his touch, but instantly scolded herself for projecting her fear of the Nightmare Man onto him.

  Layne wasn’t the one who hurt her. In fact, all he had ever been was a good friend. So warm and caring, easy to talk to, which was why she trusted him so much. She could tell him almost anything.

  “Sorry,” she said, swallowing an onslaught of emotions overwhelming her. She didn’t want to cry, but the tears came anyway. “Just… please don’t touch me right now.”

  She wiped her tears away and took a deep breath. She decided tell him about what happened. She needed to tell somebody.

  She didn’t have Dr. Massie anymore, and she couldn’t tell her father. Catherine was never one to confide in, so Amy only had Layne. She was thankful for Layne.

  “It all came back,” she said. “My mother’s killer— the man from my nightmares. I remember his face, and what he did to her… what he did to me.”

  The tears continued to flow. Amy closed her eyes and fought them back. “What happened back there with Billy Brown brought it back. He sounded just like him. Smelled like him.” She cringed. “Tasted like him… he triggered the memory.”

  In her mind’s eye, she could see the Nightmare Man clear as day.

  He was tall, fat, and had a big baldhead peppered with red sores. His ugly, reptilian visage and tobacco-stained grin was just like Billy’s.

  She watched him toss her over his shoulder and carry her out of her bedroom and down the hall, past her mother lying twisted and motionless on the living room floor, and out the front door.

  Amy kicked and screamed but her efforts were in vain. She and her mother lived in the middle of nowhere. The nearest neighbor was three miles away. No one could hear or help her.

  Amy sniffled. “I don’t remember the killer’s name, but he was at the house to collect something he was owed, and he said it wasn’t money. I don’t know why, but it was me.”

  She remembered rain pouring down hard in the darkness. She remembered him loading her in a van and driving for a very long time before stopping in a densely wooded area.

  “He pulled me out of the van and dragged me to a tree in the center of a small clearing,” Amy said. “He made me get on my knees. The ground was muddy. He made me—”

  Revulsion coursed through her body. She didn’t want to finish that terrible thought but it came to mind anyway— his large, fully erect penis thrust in her face.

  He called it his snake. He wanted her to suck it.

  “I bit it pretty hard I guess,” Amy said. “I tasted blood.” Her skin crawled, remembering how he keeled over and shrieked like a skinned hog. “It worked, though. I got away.”

  She’d run fast through the woods and rain. She stumbled a few times and gotten rainwater in her mouth, but made it to the highway where a patrol officer found her wandering in a daze. He ushered her into his car. She passed out after that.

  “Next thing I remember, I wake up and see Dad standing over my hospital bed arguing with some cops in the room.”

  After minute of silence, Layne finally spoke. “Well… that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

  Amy looked at him, puzzled. “How so?”

  “You can tell the police about it. They can investigate the lead. Maybe actually find the guy who did it.”

  “I don’t think it’ll be that easy. Will they believe me? It’s been so long ago.”

  “Does that matter?”

  Amy looked back up at the house, trepidation twisting her stomach. “I’ll have to talk to my Dad about it which won’t be easy. If I tell him about Billy, he’ll lose it. And he’ll know that I lied about Catherine’s parents being at the party.”

  “Then what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.” Amy wiped away the remaining tears from her eyes, sniffed and unbuckled her seatbelt. “I just don’t know.” Without thinking, she threw her arms around Layne and wept.

  Holding her, Layne said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you tonight.” He rubbed her back.

  Amy pulled away gently and smiled. “You were there. I hear you gave Billy quite a beating when you found him.”

  Layne shrugged, a slight smirk on his face. “No one messes with you and gets away with it. Not while I’m around.”

  “Guess you’re my hero.”

  The smirk disappeared.

  Amy didn’t know what to make of the face that followed. He seemed sad. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Sure,” Layne said. “I’m good. Call you tomorrow?”

  “I’ll call you.” She popped open the passenger-side door and climbed out. “Thanks for always listening. You’re a good friend.”

  Chapter 15

  Layne watched her step into the spill of light illuminating the front porch and felt a familiar dull ache twist his stomach. He recognized it for what it was and felt instantly ashamed. />
  Amy went through hell tonight. Feeling sorry for himself was despicable.

  Lighting a cigarette, he shifted into reverse and pulled the Pathfinder onto the street. His guilt turned into concern as he remembered what he did to Billy Brown and how it almost took over— the thing that should not be.

  The thing he denied still existed; the other hiding deep inside himself.

  Layne had felt it poking and prodding in the back of his mind, looking for a way out of the darkness and into the light of his consciousness as he’d clobbered Billy in the face, kicked him in the ribs, and stomped him in the genitals.

  Layne should’ve been more careful. There was no telling what would’ve happened if it got loose. It could’ve killed Billy and then hurt someone else.

  He was already on thin ice with his probation. If he screwed up again, his father’s courthouse connections wouldn’t keep him from jail time.

  Just keep yourself in check, man. Don’t let the tiger out of the cage. Not again.

  Layne took a drag from his cigarette and forced his thoughts to something pleasant. He forced them to Amy.

  Her revelation tonight was startling. Layne wished he could meet this Nightmare Man so he could do what he did to Billy, only ten times worse.

  But the killer was there for her? Why?

  That was the million-dollar question, but he didn’t know enough about the incident— beyond what Amy had told him— to begin to speculate.

  Amy had called him a hero.

  It made him feel good. But a good friend?

  Would she always think of him as that? Would he ever be anything better?

  A boyfriend?

  That was the other million-dollar question, and Layne was determined to find an answer.

  Chapter 16

  Feeling the alcohol fan the flames of his anger, he licked his dry lips and glared at his daughter as she stepped through the front door. “You lied to me,” Hank said, rising to his feet.

  Amy shut the door and stared at him, with a perplexed look on her face. “What?”

  Hank noticed she wore a different shirt than the one she left the house wearing. Why?