Blood Games

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Blood Games Page 38

by Richard Laymon


  ‘Let her go,’ Cora said.

  ‘She’ll be all right,’ Vivian said.

  Probably, Abilene thought. Hank won’t be coming along till after dark. If Jim’s been telling the truth.

  Still, she didn’t like the idea of Finley going off by herself. ‘We’ve been kind of tough on her.’

  ‘She’s been acting nuts,’ Cora said. ‘Ever since Batty’s place.’

  ‘It freaked her out, being grabbed like that.’

  ‘You’d think she would’ve enjoyed it,’ Cora said. ‘Being Finley.’

  ‘Hey, come on.’

  Jim raised his head. He frowned at Abilene. ‘Ya had a run-in with Batty?’

  ‘Did we ever,’ Cora said. A corner of her mouth turned up. ‘Broke his arm, killed his cat, stole his shotgun and boat.’

  ‘Do you know him?’ Vivian asked.

  ‘Or her, as the case may be,’ Abilene said, and realized it was the sort of remark Finley might make.

  I oughta go find her, she thought.

  ‘Batty does conjure stuff,’ Jim said. ‘Ya don’ wanta make him mad at ya.’

  ‘Too late for that,’ Vivian said.

  ‘Batty’s the one let us know about Juniper. My sister? Hunters from the lodge here, they done killed her dead. We didn’t know nothing ’bout it, but Batty saw it all in a vision and come over ’n let us know. Then he made us up a poison we used on them folks.’

  ‘We?’ Abilene asked. ‘Were you in on it? Were you with them at the lodge that night?’

  A sick look on his face, he nodded. ‘They made me. I was only just a kid, but they made me go along. I didn’t hurt nobody. But I was there. It was… just the awfulest thing. Seein’ what they done. ’N how Hank carried on with the gals. How he cut ’em up ’n how he… done stuff.’

  Cut ’ em up. Done stuff.

  Helen. Oh, Helen.

  Abilene, suddenly feeling trapped and suffocated by the hot water, shoved herself up. She sat on the granite ledge and scooted backward, lifting her legs from the heat.

  Vivian looked at her, then at Jim. ‘You weren’t with Hank last night, were you? When he killed our friend?’

  ‘No! Honest! He shut me up in the shed out back. After he beat on me. I begged him not to do nothin’, but he just laughed ’n tossed me in the shed ’n locked it up. I guess he knowed I’d try ’n interfere. But I couldn’t get outa there. Then he come back just before sun-up, and told me what he done. It just made me plain sick.’

  ‘What did he say?’ Cora asked.

  Vivian gave her a frantic look.

  I don’t want to hear this! Abilene thought. Jesus, no.

  ‘He told me all how he done her, but…’ Jim glanced at Vivian, at Abilene. He shook his head.

  ‘Tell us,’ Cora said.

  ‘I’m gonna go see about Finley,’ Abilene said.

  ‘Don’t you want to know?’

  Scowling at Cora, she shook her head. She started to stand up. ‘I’m not sure. And besides… if we’re gonna hear something like that, Finley should be with us.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Vivian said.

  ‘I want to make sure she’s okay,’ Abilene explained. She took a step away from the pool, then looked back, wondering whether her two friends would be safe, left alone with Jim. His hands were free. What if he went for the shotgun?

  ‘Go ahead,’ Cora told her. ‘We’ll be fine.’

  ‘I ain’t gonna do nothin’,’ Jim said.

  Abilene started away. Stopping beside the drainage channel where she’d washed the blood off her legs, she picked up her socks. She stepped into her moccasins, then walked alongside Finley’s trail of wet dribbles and shoeprints. As she stopped at the stairway leading down from the rear porch, she looked back and saw Cora boost herself out of the pool.

  Even from here, she could see Cora’s nipples through the thin wet fabric of her tank top.

  Jim’s sure getting an eyeful, she thought.

  Cora’s legs came out of the water, Abilene’s blouse knotted around her left ankle.

  Which is just where it had been when she’d chased down Jim and wrestled with him on the ground. God, she’d been all over him.

  She felt a blush heat her skin.

  No wonder the kid wants to stay.

  The first time he laid eyes on us, all of us were naked. Except Helen.

  Jim must figure he’s died and gone to heaven.

  Maybe he’s not interested in that kind of thing.

  Could be gay, she supposed.

  Could be he’s very interested, secretly thrilled by the whole thing, but smart enough to act oblivious to it all.

  She watched Vivian wade across the pool and stop at Cora’s feet. With her back to Jim. Cora, braced up on her elbows, had no view of him either.

  The kid stayed put.

  Vivian tossed Abilene’s blouse aside.

  She’s unwrapping the ankle.

  By the time the belts were off and Vivian was lifting away the makeshift splints, Abilene decided that Jim had no intention of jumping her friends.

  She stepped around the porch stairs, turned the corner of the lodge, and began to climb the steep pavement toward the rear end of the Wagoneer.

  No sign of Finley.

  Not until she’d trudged higher and she spotted her friend through the windows, sitting on the hood.

  When she came up beside the car, Finley said, ‘Can’t a gal have any privacy around here?’

  ‘Nope.’ Abilene dropped her socks to the driveway, then hopped up and sat on the hood.

  Finley’s legs dangled over the front, her feet on the bumper. Her hand was wrapped around the neck of a tequila bottle. She glanced at Abilene, then hoisted the bottle and took a drink.

  ‘I wanted to make sure you’re all right.’

  ‘What’s that, your goal in life?’

  ‘Hey.’

  ‘I’m fine. Just fine. Why don’t you go back to the pool before Jim kills our trusting pals?’

  ‘They can take care of themselves.’

  ‘And I can’t, huh?’ She gulped some more tequila.

  ‘Save some for the fishes, huh?’

  ‘If I wanta have a drink, it’s my business.’

  ‘It’s my business if you hog the whole damn bottle. Gimme.’ Finley looked at her, smirked, let out a quick laugh, and handed it over.

  Abilene took a few swallows. She shuddered. She took a deep breath and gave back the bottle. ‘It’s better with mixers.’

  ‘Yeah. I just didn’t feel like wasting time with ’em.’

  ‘You don’t really think Jim’s the killer, do you?’

  Finley shrugged. ‘Hell, I don’t know. I guess not. That shit about his brother’s pretty hard to buy, but… I guess I believe him. Sort of.’ She took a drink and passed the bottle to Abilene. ‘I guess if I really thought Jim was the bastard that murdered Helen, I would’ve gone ahead and killed him by now. But the kid pisses me off.’

  ‘So I gather.’

  ‘It’s mostly his fault, even if his brother is the guy who actually did it.’

  Abilene took a sip of tequila. ‘We never should’ve come to a place like this.’

  ‘It was Helen’s pick.’

  ‘We didn’t have to go along with it.’

  ‘Sure we did. That was the deal. Besides, nobody knew what was going to happen. And if we’d gone somewhere different, she might’ve gotten killed anyway. No place is safe. We might’ve had a head-on, and all gotten wiped out.’

  ‘Coming here is what did it, though.’

  Finley took the bottle from her, tilted it up and drank. ‘Sooner or later, something was bound to happen. Five gals going around looking for adventure.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Looking for trouble. Taking all kinds of risks. The surprising thing is that nobody ever nailed any of us till now.’

  ‘We were pretty lucky.’

  ‘Damn lucky.’

  ‘I guess the luck stopped here.’

  ‘For Helen,
it sure did.’

  They were silent for a while. They passed the bottle back and forth. It was Finley who finally capped it. ‘Don’t want get so polluted I miss my chance to waste Hank,’ she said. ‘Gotta buy him a farm.’

  ‘We gotta keep alert,’ Abilene agreed. She was feeling a bit numb.

  ‘I used to keep a lert. Had a little cage for it. They make damn fine pets.’

  ‘Wonder if we oughta head on down, see what’s happening?’

  ‘Left my camera down there.’ She leaned forward, braced her elbows on her knees, and hung her head. ‘Guess it doesn’t matter. The epic’s all done. Gone with the fuckin’ wind. Never even got around to adding last year’s stuff. Figured it’d just remind everyone of… what I did with that surfer guy. As if they need reminding. Shit. And now… nobody’ll ever want to look at the thing again. Me included. Wouldn’t be able to stand it. Daring Young Maids. Minus one. Maybe I’ll bum the whole fuckin’ thing.’

  ‘Naw. Don’t.’ She patted Finley’s back. ‘We might wanta see it again. Someday. Just to see how we used to be.’

  ‘Maybe won’t be any of us left to watch it, anyhow. Just be a bunch of dead gals on the thing.’

  ‘Cut it out. We’ll be fine.’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Come on, let’s go on down with the others.’ Abilene stood

  on the bumper, jumped to the driveway and staggered forward, waving her arms for balance. She managed, just barely, to stay on her feet. She turned around carefully. ‘Rough waters,’ she said.

  Finley didn’t jump. Instead, she lowered her legs and slid down the front of the car until her feet found the pavement. She stood up straight. She wobbled a bit. ‘I’m afraid we’d better not attempt to descend the treacherous dri…’

  ‘They’re gonna save us the trouble,’ Abilene interrupted as the others appeared at the bottom of the slope.

  Jim was carrying Cora piggy-back. A good trick, Abilene thought. A very good trick, especially since he had a leg injury himself and Cora must outweigh him by twenty or thirty pounds. But he seemed to be doing just fine.

  Cora kept her right arm across the top of Jim’s chest to hold herself tight against his back. She gripped the water bottle in her left hand. Both her legs were hugging Jim’s hips. He held them there, hands hooked beneath her knees. Her dangling feet swayed. Her right ankle was wrapped with an Ace bandage, and the splints were gone.

  Jim looked as if he might lose his cut-offs. Heavy with water, supported by the single rope, they sagged at such an angle that Abilene could see matted pubic hair. The crease at the side of his groin showed, too. He paused a moment, huffing, then resumed his trudge up the slope.

  Vivian walked behind the pair, carrying the shotgun and Finley’s camera. Her clinging white polo shirt was nearly transparent. The two belts that had been used to secure Cora’s splints hung across her chest like bandoliers. Abilene’s blouse was tucked under the waistband of her shorts.

  ‘You got everything?’ Abilene called.

  ‘No thanks to you two,’ Cora said.

  ‘You could’ve waited for us.’

  ‘We did. We figured you weren’t coming back.’

  ‘Just on our way,’ Finley said, coming over to Abilene’s side and flinging an arm across her shoulders. With her other hand, she waved the bottle at them.

  Cora, her face bobbing above Jim’s head, frowned at them. ‘Are you two drunk?’

  ‘Had a few wee sips,’ Abilene said.

  ‘We’re perfectly fine ’n dandy,’ Finley added.

  ‘Terrific,’ Cora muttered.

  Abilene stepped out of Jim’s way and took the water bottle from Cora’s hand.

  Finley met Vivian and took the camera.

  Where the pavement leveled out in front of the car, Jim eased Cora down. She clung to him and stood on her left leg. Abilene, hurrying forward to help, saw a patchwork of Bandaids on her neck and back and shoulder. The worst of the scratches and bites were covered.

  She set down the water bottle and clutched Cora beneath the armpits. With Jim’s help, she lowered her friend to the concrete.

  He pulled up his drooping cut-offs, then bent over and held his knees as he struggled to catch his breath.

  ‘I’ll have some of that,’ Cora said, reaching up toward Finley.

  ‘Don’ overdo it,’ Finley warned, and gave her the bottle. ‘Moderation in all things. Thas the secret to a long ’n happy life.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Cora only had a few sips before setting the bottle aside. Vivian brought the shotgun to her, and she kept watch on Jim while the others unloaded food and supplies from the Wagoneer.

  Vivian lit the stove. Abilene opened cans of chili and dumped them into a pot. Finley got out rolls and Pepsis.

  While they waited for the chili, they helped Cora to the car so she could sit on the hood with her legs dangling.

  Soon, the chili was bubbling. Abilene ladled it into cups and passed it around.

  Finley perched on the hood beside Cora. Abilene and Vivian sat on the pavement near Jim. They ate in silence. The chili was hot. The Pepsis were warm. The rolls were hard. Everything tasted very good to Abilene, but she ate slowly. She didn’t want the meal to end. She dreaded for it to end. Because, when it was finished, there would be nothing left to do but get ready for Hank. She had a second cup of chili, not because she was still hungry, but only to prolong what seemed to be a final piece of normalcy.

  When everyone was done, she volunteered to do the dishes.

  ‘Why bother?’ Cora said. ‘Let’s just throw them in a box. We won’t be eating again.’

  ‘That’s what I’m afraid of,’ Finley said.

  ‘You know what I mean. As soon as we’ve taken care of

  Hank, you’re gonna hike out of here and get help. You and whoever else wants to go.’

  ‘Wouldn’t hurt to clean the dishes, anyway,’ Abilene said. ‘Besides, it’ll give me something to do.’

  ‘Walk off your drunk,’ Finley said.

  ‘In that case,’ Cora told her, ‘you oughta go along with her.’

  ‘I’m feeling pretty damn sober,’ Abilene said. ‘Unfortunately.’

  ‘You and me both.’ Finley slid down from the hood. ‘Let’s do it. Beats waiting around.’

  Abilene and Finley gathered the dirty pot and cups and spoons. Taking along a roll of paper towels, they headed down the driveway. At the rear of the lodge, they came to the pool’s run-off channel. They followed it into the woods where it flowed into a brook. And where the shadows were deep enough to remind Abilene that night was coming soon.

  She and Finley crouched on rocks and began to rinse the utensils. The water, probably as cold upstream as the water in the lake, was warmed with the run-off from the hot pools. It felt good on Abilene’s hands. And crouching like this felt good. Hunching against her legs, reaching way down between them. Comforting.

  Almost a fetal position, she realized.

  It would feel very good to curl up in a dark place and hug her knees. And stay that way until morning.

  ‘Are you scared?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t like the waiting.’

  ‘I just wish the whole thing would go away.’

  ‘It’ll be fine once we’ve taken care of Hank.’

  ‘You’re the one who said we might all be dead.’

  ‘I was… just in a mood. The booze and everything. We’ll be fine. We’ve got the shotgun. We’ll blow the fucker’s head off. He won’t have a chance.’

  ‘I hope you’re right. But something can always go wrong.’

  ‘You worry too much, Hickok.’

  ‘We could use Hickok tonight. Or at least a couple of his six-guns.’

  ‘Hell. Batty’s over ’n under’ll do us just fine.’

  They wiped away the remaining chili and grease with wads of paper towels, then piled the cups and spoons into the cook pot. Abilene clamped the paper roll against her side. She picked up the used towels so they wouldn�
�t be left behind to litter the shore.

  Then, Finley in the lead, they walked out of the woods into the evening’s golden glow of sunlight.

  At the top of the driveway, they found that Cora had abandoned her perch on the car. She was stretched out on the pavement, hands folded on her belly. Vivian sat crosslegged, the shotgun resting across her thighs. She was facing Jim, who sat with his arms folded around his knees.

  Someone, probably Vivian, had already put away the stove and supplies. On the hood of the car was a box containing the empty cans. Abilene tossed the wet, dirty balls of paper into the box. Then she braced a door of the Wagoneer open while Finley climbed inside with the roll of towels and the pot full of cups and spoons.

  ‘Need anything while I’m in here?’

  Ducking, Abilene looked in. The back seat and rear storage area were heaped with clothing, swimsuits, shoes, purses, sleeping bags, food and gear. ‘See if you can find the flashlights,’ she said.

  ‘They’re in here someplace.’

  While she watched Finley dig through the mess, she considered getting in and hunting for her sneakers and fresh clothes. Sneakers would be better than the moccasins she was wearing.

  Especially if I have to run.

  It would feel good to get into dry clothes. But the way she was sweating, anything she put on would very quickly be just as moist as what she was already wearing. Besides, this skirt and blouse were already ruined. No point wrecking anything else.

  The others hadn’t changed, either, though the back of Cora’s tank top was snagged and tom and half Finley’s shirt buttons were missing. If anybody needed fresh clothes, they did.

  Finley handed out two flashlights.

  ‘See if you can find my sneakers,’ Abilene said.

  ‘They’re right here. I just saw them.’ She turned away to look for them.

  ‘Are you gonna wear what you’ve got on?’

  ‘You think we should dress for the ball? Who are we trying to impress?’

  ‘Guess not.’

  ‘These’re my fightin’ duds,’ Finley said, and crawled out backward with the shoes.

  Abilene put them on, tossed her moccasins into the car, then trudged to the top of the driveway and joined the others. She lay down on the pavement. She folded her hands beneath her head and crossed her ankles and shut her eyes.

 

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