Blood Games

by Richard Laymon

  Cora leaned across the registration desk, stretching over its counter, one leg rising high behind her as she strained to see what was on the other side. She pushed herself away and shook her head.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘The more nothing, the better,’ Vivian said.

  As Cora walked alongside the desk, she glanced down at the front of her white T-shirt and brushed it once, just once, with her open hand. Turning toward the others, she frowned. She plucked at her shirt, pulling it away from her body. She gazed at the taut, slanted cloth.

  It didn’t look particularly dirty to Abilene - just a trifle dusty - so, what could be bothering… ‘Uh-oh,’ she muttered.

  ‘Hey, Viv,’ Cora said. ‘Guess what? You don’t have to worry about soiling your clothes around this place. Not much, anyway.’ She brushed her shirt a couple more times, and the traces of dust vanished. ‘That counter should’ve been filthy.'

  ‘The maid service must’ve been by,’ Finley said.

  'Somebody’s been by,’ Abilene said. ‘From my vast experience with house cleaning, I’d say Cora mopped up less than a week’s worth of dust.’

  ‘Should’ve been twelve years’ worth,’ Helen pointed out. A corner of her lip curled up.

  ‘If it’d been that dirty, I would’ve stayed off.’

  Abilene turned around, studying the floor. Near the door and windows were some leaves. But not many. And she saw no broken glass, at all, beneath the windows. ‘The floor’s clean, too,’ she said.

  Vivian nodded. ‘Obviously, this place isn’t as abandoned as it looks.’

  ‘The Three Bears must be out for an afternoon stroll,’ Finley said.

  Spread out and walking abreast, the five women made their way through the room, skirting the occasional support beams. As she neared the fireplace, Abilene saw that it was clean inside. The stones were black with soot, but there were no ashes or chunks of burnt wood.

  Several yards past the end of the registration desk, the room branched out to the left.

  ‘Must be the dining area,’ Cora said, stepping around the corner.

  ‘This is where it happened,’ Helen said.

  ‘Where what happened?’ Vivian asked.

  Helen grinned and wiggled her eyebrows up and down. ‘Later. After dark. I’ll tell you all a bedtime story.’

  ‘We might not be here after dark,’ Vivian said.

  ‘As long as nobody’s around,’ Cora said, ‘we might as well stay.’

  ‘Somebody has been here,’ Abilene reminded her.

  ‘That doesn’t necessarily mean anyone’ll show up while we’re around. And whoever it is might be perfectly harmless.’

  ‘Well, we’re trespassing.’

  ‘Just doing some innocent exploration. And the door was open, after all. It’s not as if we broke in.’

  ‘Besides,’ Helen said, ‘it wouldn’t be fair to quit. This is my choice, and I’ve always gone along with you guys - whether I wanted to or not. I didn’t complain all the time, either,’ she added, eyeing Vivian.

  ‘I’m still here,’ Vivian pointed out. ‘I’m not a quitter.’

  ‘Just a complainer,’ Cora said.

  ‘We do have to be realistic,’ Abilene said. ‘I mean, it’s great to have our little adventures, but on the other hand we don’t want to get our asses killed. Things do happen, you know. And this place looks a little hinky to me. I’m not saying we should call it quits, but we’ve gotta be damned careful. Someone was here within the past few days. Someone might be here right now.’

  ‘Oh, I hope so,’ Helen said, leering.

  This from the gal, Abilene thought, who is petrified by the idea of taking a shower alone.

  Helen hadn’t changed much, in that regard, since her encounter with the phantom hand in her freshman year at Belmore.

  After the night of Finley’s escapade, Helen had taken showers frequently. Not always with Abilene, but always with someone. Often, she’d returned dry, having turned back after discovering the shower room to be deserted. Better to wait than to risk the lights going off, an extra hand touching her in the dark.

  Later, during the three years when they all share a rented house on Summer Street, she hadn’t insisted on having a companion in the tub with her. She hadn’t even asked. It would’ve been tight quarters, for one thing. She’d admitted it. And she’d always locked herself in the bathroom.

  Even last night at the Wayfarer’s Haven in Burlington, Helen had insisted that either Abilene or Finley remain in the room while she bathed. Abilene had stayed behind. Finley had gone ahead without her to have drinks and snacks in the room shared by Cora and Vivian.

  So she was a young woman pursued by terror, and yet here she was, putting on a show of bravado about the more immediate threat of running into a stranger in a desolate lodge in the middle of nowhere.

  Well, Abilene thought, there are five of us. She damn sure wouldn’t be acting this way if she were alone.

  But Abilene wondered if any of this was real to Helen. The phantom hand in the shower room had been very real. Whenever Helen was in the midst of an adventure, however, she behaved as if she considered the dangers imaginary. As if she were a character in a movie or something, and nothing bad could actually happen to her.

  As Abilene entered the kitchen behind Cora and Helen, she realized that Helen wasn’t the only one with a carefree attitude about the adventures.

  Finley, too, seemed cheerfully reckless.

  In Finley’s case, however, it was more than empty bravado. The girl was audacious, intrepid to the bone.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  BELMORE GIRLS

  ‘Now let’s calm down, everyone,’ Finley said as Cora grabbed the front of her tank top and yanked her up.

  ‘No need for violence,’ she said as Cora drove her across the room and rammed her back against a wall between two of the showers.

  ‘Is my camera okay?’ she asked as Cora clutched her throat.

  Abilene had picked it up.

  She located Cora and Finley in the viewfinder. ‘I guess it’s all right,’ she said.

  ‘Then tape this,’ Cora said, and punched Finley in the stomach.

  The girl’s eyes bugged out. Her mouth sprang open. Her shoulders lurched off the wall as she bent at the waist, her neck thrusting against Cora’s hand.

  ‘Hey!’ Abilene snapped. ‘Don’t.’

  ‘Quit it!’ Vivian cried out. ‘For Godsake!’

  ‘Leave her alone,’ Abilene said.

  Finley, pinned to the wall, wheezed for air. Her face was twisted with pain.

  ‘Let go of her,’ Abilene said.

  Cora dropped her hand. The girl leaned forward, rump against the wall, and hugged her belly.

  ‘What’s the big idea, huh?’ Cora asked.

  ‘What are you, a pervert?’

  Finley shook her head. She gasped something that sounded like, ‘Ontra.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Let her catch her breath,’ Vivian said.

  They waited. At last, Finley stopped holding herself, stood up straight, and said, ‘Entrepreneur.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It means she…’

  ‘I know what it means,’ Cora said, casting an annoyed glance at Vivian.

  ‘This guy… he offered me two hundred bucks.’

  To film us taking showers? ’

  ‘Videotape, actually. For his VCR.’

  Cora didn’t bother to dry. She didn’t bother to put on her robe. Stark naked, twisting Finley’s arm, she guided the girl out of the shower room and dressing room, past the toilet stalls and sinks, and through the door to the hallway.

  Abilene dried herself as fast as possible. Helen, flushed with excitement, didn’t bother to towel off. She struggled to pull the nightgown down her wet body, and finally succeeded. The fabric looked transparent where it clung to her skin. Abilene put on her robe, picked up her toilet articles and lifted the camera. Vivian, who’d also taken time to dry, belted her own robe, then ga
thered her possessions along with the robe, towel, and other things that Cora had left behind.

  The three of them rushed into the corridor.

  Helen carried the gorilla mask. It swung from her fist, dripping, like a severed head fresh from the guillotine.

  Several other girls stood around, looking perplexed. Some were peering into the room Vivian shared with Cora. It looked as if Cora had caused quite a stir, hustling by with her prisoner.

  Those who asked questions were answered with a brusk, ‘Never mind’ from Vivian. Who shut the door and locked it after Helen and Abilene were inside.

  Finley sat on one of the beds, regarding her captors with a quizzical look.

  Cora loomed over her, hands on hips. She was shiny and dripping. Her buttocks were red from the fall she’d taken trying to apprehend the girl. Vivian held out her robe. She snatched it away. Muttering ‘Thanks,’ she shoved her arms through the sleeves.

  ‘I hope this isn’t going to get ugly,’ Finley said.

  ‘Depends on how you look at death,’ Cora told her.

  ‘I must inform you, there’s a letter in my safety deposit box with instructions to be opened in the event of my demise.’

  ‘Cut the comedy,’ Cora said. ‘Who paid you to film us?’

  ‘Actually, he’s supposed to pay on delivery. At this point, I don’t expect that to happen.’

  ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘Darryl Rathbone.’

  ‘Who’s he?’

  ‘A senior. He’s a Sig.’

  ‘What did he want the film for?’

  ‘I guess he figured it’d be a hit with his frat brothers.’

  She shrugged, then frowned as if thinking about something. ‘Do you want to know what really happened?’

  ‘That’s the idea.’

  ‘Cause there’s a little more to it than the two hundred bucks.’

  ‘Tell us everything,’ Vivian said. She sounded as if she felt a little sorry for the girl.

  ‘Okay, here’s the thing. I’m over at the student union having a Pepsi, and I see him watching me. This is tonight, by the way. I’ve got my camera along - which is why all this happened in the first place. Anyway, I leave the union and I’m heading back here across the quad when he comes running up behind me and grabs my shoulder. I go, “Does this mean we’re going steady?” And he turns me around and goes, “Which dorm are you in?” I tell him, and he gets this big grin. He asks if I know her.’ Finley nodded toward Vivian.

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Yeah. He goes, “You know that honey, Vivian Drake?” I say I know who she is. I mean, who doesn’t? And then he tells me there’s like a pool going at the Sig house. Five hundred bucks, and it goes to the first guy that comes up with videotape of Vivian in the raw.’

  Vivian’s face went crimson.

  ‘Those bastards,’ Cora muttered.

  ‘What a bunch of pigs,’ Helen said.

  Vivian’s face was still bright red, but now her eyes shimmered. Her lips were pressed tightly together, her chin trembling.

  ‘He says I can make him the winner,’ Finley continued, ‘and he’ll give me two hundred. I tell him to get fucked, so then he grabs my camera away and holds it up like he plans to smash it on the concrete. “I’m not asking that much,” he goes. “It’ll be easy. Just keep your eyes open. Next time she’s taking a shower, just walk in and nail her and run. Wear a mask, or something.” So I tell him okay, just so I can get my camera back. He gives it to me. I start to walk off, and he tells me I’d better come through -or else.’

  ‘Or else what?’ Cora asked.

  ‘He said he’d put a bounty on me.’

  ‘A bounty?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘What did he mean by that?’ Abilene asked.

  ‘He didn’t say. But I guess I’ll find out. Unless you gals want to do me a big favor and let me have the tape.’

  ‘When hell freezes over,’ Cora said.

  ‘Somehow, I thought you might say that.’

  Vivian sat down on the other bed. She wiped her eyes with a sleeve of her robe. She sniffed. ‘The whole Sig house is in on this?’ she asked.

  ‘I guess so.’

  ‘If they’ve got that pool,’ Abilene said, ‘somebody else’ll be trying to collect. It won’t stop till they get you.’

  ‘We could report them,’ Helen suggested.

  Vivian wrinkled her nose. ‘I don’t want the administration finding out.’

  ‘We’ve got to do something,’ Abilene said.

  ‘Those slimebags,’ Cora muttered.

  ‘Do you know what I think we should do?’ Finley asked.

  ‘We know,’ Cora said. ‘Give them your tape.’

  Finley shook her head. ‘I think we should torpedo the whole damn fraternity.’

  ‘We?’ Cora asked.

  ‘Whose side do you think I’m on, anyway?’

  ‘Your own.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Abilene said. ‘You didn’t have to go along with it.’

  ‘He threatened her,’ Vivian pointed out.

  ‘That’s no excuse.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to do it, not even after he came up with that bounty crap. But then I got to thinking. You know? I can always use a couple of hundred bucks. Also, I figured somebody else would do it, if I didn’t. So why not me? That way, I get the money and Rathbone leaves me alone. And then I sort of got caught up in the whole idea. A challenge, you know? Could I get away with it?’

  ‘Obviously not,’ Cora said.

  ‘But I figured it’d be fun to try.’ With a somewhat sheepish smile, she added, ‘It was. It was a gassaroonie. At least till you guys nailed me.’

  ‘I could tell you were having a good time,’ Abilene said. ‘Oh, yeah. Haven’t you ever done something really outrageous? There’s nothing like it. A blast. I do all kinds of stuff just because it’s risky. You oughta try it. We all oughta try it. And we can start by taking on the Sigs. We’ve gotta stop ’em in their tracks before somebody collects on the pool.’

  Vivian, frowning, gazed at her. ‘Have you got any ideas?’

  The young man who opened the front door of the fraternity house two hours later looked stunned. As if the last thing he expected to find on the porch at midnight was a group of five freshman co-eds, all wearing fancy, low-cut gowns, all but the girl with the video camera hanging onto beer bottles, mugging and swaying as if they were quite drunk.

  ‘Do y’know who I am?’ Vivian asked, slurring her words.

  ‘Uh… sure.’

  ‘These’re my friends.’

  ‘Yo!’ Cora blurted, and raised her bottle as if toasting the guy.

  ‘Pleased to make yer ’quaintance,’ Helen said.

  ‘Howdy,’ Abilene greeted him, and winked.

  Finley, behind them, said nothing as she videotaped the scene.

  ‘What are… what’s going on?’

  ‘Come t’see the fellas,’ Vivian said. ‘Hear they’re hankerin’ t’see me.'

  ‘Gonna let ush in?’ Helen asked.

  ‘We’re gonna give ’em a show,’ Vivian said. A roll of ohe shoulder sent a strap of her gown sliding down her upper arm.

  A frat brother appeared behind the guy in the door and looked out. His mouth fell open. ‘Holy shit,’ he said. ‘What gives?’

  ‘We do,’ Abilene said, winking as she shook her beer bottle at him.

  ‘They want to come in.’

  ‘For Godsake, who’s stopping them? Step right in, ladies.’ He pulled his friend out of the doorway. ‘Go get the others, Bill. I’ll escort these ladies into the parlor.’

  Whirling around, Bill dashed to the stairway just beyond the foyer. He sprang up the stairs two and three at a time.

  ‘I’m Doug,’ said the other. He held the door wide and swept his arm, gesturing for the girls to enter. ‘This is certainly an unexpected surprise.’

  ‘It’ll get even bedder,’ Vivian said, giving his cheek a brief caress as she staggered by.

  ‘You gals ha
ve been partying, huh?’

  ‘Just gettin’ started,’ Cora said.

  ‘Feelin’ wild ’n homy,’ Helen said.

  Abilene halted, facing Doug. With a slanted grin, she said, ‘We know you Siggies’re wild ’n homy, too.’ Doug proved her point by fastening his eyes on her cleavage. ‘Yer gonna see a lot more’n that preddy soon.’

  He blew through his pursed lips. ‘Whew. Can’t wait, if I do say so myself.’ Abilene walked on.

  Looking back, she saw Finley poke her lens into the guy’s face. ‘I’m the official historian. The tape of tonight’s proceeding will be copied by my own self and sent to your esteemed fraternity.’

  ‘Great. Fabulous.’

  Doug led them into the ‘parlor,’ a dimly lighted, plushly furnished room to the left of the foyer. As he scurried about, turning on lamps, the sounds of voices and thudding footfalls came from above.

  Abilene heard whoops and yells.

  Someone yelled, ‘You gotta be shitting me!’

  Another voice shouted, ‘WHO?’

  ‘Fuckin’ A!’

  'Five of ’em?’

  ‘I be died ’n gone to heaven!’

  ‘Let me at ’em! ’

  ‘Bombed? Oh, man!’

  Doug laughed and shook his head. ‘Sounds as if the guys’ll be along any minute. Would you ladies like to be seated and make yourselves comfortable?’

  They all glanced around at the sofas and easy chairs, as if considering the offer. Finley panned the room with her camera.

  ‘We can’t very well do what we’re gonna do,’ Vivian said, ‘if we’re sitting down.’

  ‘Sides,’ Cora said, ‘you guys’ll wanta be sittin’ for our show.’ Doug pursed his lips again and scrunched up his eyes. He appeared to be in an agony of expectation.

  Abilene, standing shoulder to shoulder with her friends, watched a herd of young men stampede down the stairs. They let out whoops and war cries. Only a few were fully dressed. Some wore robes. Many were bare to the waist, some wearing only shorts or pajama bottoms. A few wore nothing but skivvies. What’ve we gotten ourselves into here? Abilene wondered. Her heart slammed so hard that she felt dizzy, and she struggled to catch her breath.

  As those at the front of the crowd reached the parlor’s entryway, Vivian raised her beer bottle. ‘Greetings, fellas!’