by Bryan Smith
A moment later, a soft hand on his shoulder.
“Jake…let’s go.”
He looked up at her through eyes wet with tears. “Okay.”
He took Kristen’s hand and she helped him to his feet.
Then they left that slaughterhouse and never returned.
EPILOGUE
Their first stop after leaving Rockville High was his mother’s house in the Zone. He kept his mind a blank as he kicked open the front door, not wanting to acknowledge any notion of his brother having remained safe at home. There was no point in hope by then.
They did find Trey at the house.
But there was no miracle.
He was dead.
And so was Jolene.
Their bodies had been torn apart. They found arms, legs, fingers, and genitals in different parts of the house. He found Trey’s head floating in the toilet bowl. His mother’s head was in the microwave oven. Lengths of intestine were spread out on the table. Some of them had been cooked and gnawed on. There was an eyeball on a toothpick. Just one. Jake didn’t care to guess what had happened to the others. He grabbed an unopened twelve-pack of Old Milwaukee from the fridge; then they got the hell out of there.
They left town.
What else was there to do?
Kristen drove as he drank beer after beer, crumpling the empties and tossing them into the back. After six of them, Jake had her pull over. He threw the door open and heaved his guts out and listened to cars whiz by on the interstate. He sat there with his head hanging out the door for several more minutes, sweat pouring down his face as his body continued to spasm long after his stomach had been emptied of its contents.
Then he pulled himself back inside and shut the door.
“You okay?”
“Yeah…” He was still working to get his breathing under control. “I’ll be fine. Just go.”
Kristen stared at him a moment. Then she shrugged and put the car back in gear.
Jake started in on the rest of the beer.
They drove and drove, with only brief convenience store pit stops. Jake would empty his bladder and buy more beer while Kristen pumped gas. This continued all the way through to the next day, when they stopped in Austin, Texas. By then Jake was running on fumes. He didn’t want to sleep, fearing the nightmares that would come. But sleep was coming. There was nothing he could do about it. They found a cheap motel and Jake used his debit card to pay for a week’s stay. He slept deeply that night and did not dream.
The next day they explored the town. Jake didn’t feel much like sightseeing, but it was better than just sitting in that gray, depressing room all day. Austin was a funky college town, a bastion of liberalism and creativity in the heart of conservative Texas. Under other circumstances, he might have found it a fascinating place. But he was still too numb to care. Too numb to have even begun a proper grieving process.
That night they ventured back out to a bar they’d stopped by earlier in the day. It had a long wooden porch with benches. The front door was open and music spilled out. There was loud talk and laughter. As Jake stepped through the door with Kristen, he knew this was what he needed. To be surrounded by people. To hear their boozy, carefree conversations. To feel their normality. Maybe if he soaked in enough of it, he could forget about the monster he knew was out there somewhere.
The jukebox was playing “Stagger Lee,” some version he didn’t recognize. A very attractive brunette in tight denim shorts gyrated in front of the jukebox. A table beside her was filled with other extremely attractive women. They were talking and laughing. Their table was littered with empty beer bottles and shot glasses. One of the women, a leggy black chick, spotted his roving eye and winked at him.
Jake smiled and followed Kristen to the bar. There they ordered two pints of Shiner Bock and watched the television bolted to the wall behind the bar. The news was on. Coverage of the mysterious massacre at Rockville High was still nonstop.
Jake felt a deep melancholy settle over him. There were answers he wanted. Questions he could never ask. He sipped his beer and looked at Kristen. “Do you think she did it on purpose?”
Kristen frowned. “Did what?”
He cleared his throat, looked at the television again, and frowned. “At my mom’s house. Do you think she did what she did to Mom and Trey knowing I’d be back there to see it at some point?”
Kristen shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe she just did it for the sheer evil thrill of it. She’s a demon, remember.” She touched his knee. “Best not to think about it, really.”
Jake nodded. “Yeah. I know.”
They sat there and drank several more beers. Then they staggered out of the bar and picked up another twelve-pack on the way back to the motel. Back in their room, they sat on the bed, conversing intermittently while they drank beer and watched TV. At some point Kristen took charge of the remote and dialed up a pay-per-view porno movie. As the first sex scene began, she nibbled on his ear and kissed his neck.
Her hand went to his crotch and squeezed.
The erection surprised him, considering how much he’d drank. Considering everything that had happened.
Kristen made a soft sound somewhere between a grunt and a laugh. “Let’s do it,” she said, her voice a breathy whisper. “What better way to take our minds off things?”
Jake didn’t argue.
Maybe she had a point. Besides, it felt good. And his philosophy had always been that if something feels good, it must be good.
They shed their clothes as they made out and groped at each other. When they were fully nude, Kristen shoved Jake backward. She straddled him as he fell onto his back. He sighed at the silken smoothness of her thighs against his hips, then gasped as his hardness plunged into her. She smiled down at him and rode him with a slow, rocking rhythm.
She licked her lips. “Mmm…you like that, baby?”
A weak smile twitched the corners of Jake’s mouth and he let his eyes flutter shut for a moment. “Yeah…”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
Then he felt her hands around his throat. Soft, but strong.
The balls of her thumbs pressing.
His eyes snapped open.
She wasn’t smiling now. “Did you really think I’d just walk away?”
Jake’s heart began to race. “What do you mean?”
“You know.”
Jake stared at her hard, unflinching eyes.
He did know.
“What happened to Jordan?”
“Our daughter? I consumed her, of course.”
Daughter?
Jake felt a profound ache of the spirit.
He had a daughter. And she was dead.
Like everyone else.
The creature atop him seemed to sense his thoughts and smiled again. “Not all is lost, darling. I know you like this body. I saw it in your eyes when you were kissing the bitch. And now you’ll get to enjoy it for a long, long time.”
Jake closed his eyes.
Lamia’s hands closed another notch tighter around his throat.
The slow, rocking rhythm gave way to a more frenzied one. The headboard banged against the wall as Jake grabbed Lamia’s arms and held on. It went on for a long time. Jake feared she would break him in half before it was over. Then it was over and he was still intact, at least physically. She drew him into her arms and wrapped a leg around his midsection, holding him tight, not letting him move.
She whispered in his ear. “Now I have to punish you. Teach you a lesson. The first of many.”
Jake tried to scream.
She didn’t let him.
Acknowledgments
Some readers of this book may imagine they detect a whiff of autobiography within these pages. This is not the case. While I do share one or two superficial things in common with the protagonist, Jake McAllister, he is not meant to represent me in any way. I come from a much, much less deprived background, and I was raised by wonderful parents who al
ways did their best by me, even when I was struggling. Without the love and support of my mother, Cherie Smith, and Lonnie Smith, my still deeply missed late father, I could never have come as far as I have. I was also blessed enough to have two of the greatest brothers anyone could ever ask for in Jeff and Eric Smith. My brothers, thanks for making a big chunk of my younger days so memorable and fun. And as always, my love and gratitude to my wife. Rachael, without you sharing my life, the world would be a much darker place indeed.
Thanks also go out to the usual cast of colorful characters and friends: Shannon Turbeville and Keith Ashley, without whom the good old days would just have been the old days. Kent Gowran, Tod Clark, Mark Hickerson, David T. Wilbanks, Derek Tatum, the denizens of Brian Keene’s message board, Brian Keene, Don D’Auria (for making it all happen), and the core MySpace gang (keep those comments and messages coming).
Last, but not least, thanks to the readers for buying enough of these things to keep them coming.
CRITICS PRAISE THE FRIGHTENING WORK OF
BRYAN SMITH!
QUEEN OF BLOOD
“I can’t see any fan of 80s-style pulp horror novels not leaving this one with a huge, gory grin on their face.”
—The Horror Fiction Review
“Queen of Blood is a great follow-up…taking all the elements that worked so well in the first book and ramping them up. Not just the gore or the violence, though there’s plenty of both, but the characterizations Smith is so adept at as well. He has weaved a very intricate tale with multiple levels of deception and sadism and managed to have it all make sense and be a helluva lot of fun at the same time.”
—Dread Central
“A non-stop thrill ride…Queen of Blood is flying off the shelves. Bryan Smith seems poised for a major career explosion, and if you want to be trendy, read him now, before he becomes a household name. Incidentally, although Queen of Blood has a definite conclusion, there is plenty of room for a third volume in the same series. You can count me as someone who is eager to read it.”
—Skullring
“Dark fantasy and psychological suspense might be the new norm, but the old slice and dice set hasn’t kicked the bucket yet. Smith’s lean and mean prose never lets up, allowing for a smooth, leisurely reading experience…a refreshing change of pace.”
—Fear Zone
MORE RAVES FOR BRYAN SMITH!
HOUSE OF BLOOD
“House of Blood is a unique and riveting excursion into modern horror. Here’s an author exploding onto the genre.”
—Edward Lee, author of Brides of the Impaler
“Smith promises unimaginable brutality, bile-inducing fear, and unfathomable despair; and then delivers monumentally!”
—Horror Web
“Bryan Smith is a force to be reckoned with!”
—Douglas Clegg, author of The Attraction
“A feast of good old-fashioned horror. Don’t pass this one up!”
—Brian Keene, author of Castaways
“In the vein of Bentley Little and Edward Lee…sometimes scary, sometimes amusing, House of Blood is a quick, enjoyable read suitable for all fans of horror and dark fantasy.”
—Michael Laimo, author of Fires Rising
THE FREAKSHOW
“Bryan Smith is truly a glowing example of the type of horror author born straight from the ashes of the genre’s glorious heyday of the 80s. Smith really shines with his latest example of no-holds-barred horror fiction that proves there are no limits holding him back when it comes to truly terrifying his readers. I highly recommend The Freakshow to anyone who loves an intense ride through a truly dark and terrifying novel.”
—Horror World
“The action kicks in literally from the first page and doesn’t let up for the entire book. The pacing is dead-on and the horror is exceptional. Good characters, a good story and some nasty imagery combine to make The Freakshow one of the most fun reads I’ve had in a long time.”
—Dread Central
Other Leisure books by Bryan Smith:
QUEEN OF BLOOD
THE FREAKSHOW
DEATHBRINGER
HOUSE OF BLOOD
Copyright
A LEISURE BOOK®
February 2009
Published by
Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
200 Madison Avenue
New York, NY 10016
Copyright © 2009 by Bryan Smith
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