Evil Heights, Book IV: In the Pit

by Michael Swanson

  "Used it for what?” Phoebe asked.

  "Lee?” Patty tugged at his shirt. “Lee, what's that?” She pointed to the skeleton on the rack.

  "I think that's a corpse.” He put a hand on his sister's head and protectively pulled her up against his leg. “I don't think we need to be worried about it, Patty. I think it's been here a long, long time."

  Phoebe hugged up against Lee closely from the other side. “This is horrible, Lee."

  "Well it's for sure we can't stay here,” he said, taking Patty's hand. “Let's go see what's on the other side of that door."

  Leading the way and stepping on things he didn't want to see, Lee kept kicking at bits and pieces with his shoes. By the wall, near a crumbled examining table, was something that looked like a ball of needles or quills. Curiously, he thought to stoop and pick it up to see what it was. But like the pit in the center of the room, something told him, he wouldn't like it once he saw it, so he left it alone.

  Ever so quietly, he stepped to the door, becoming aware for the first time of a low hum from somewhere on the other side. “A generator,” he said turning back to Phoebe. “I think this is Mr. Ballard's bomb shelter."

  The white door wasn't wood; it was steel. And though the pit they were in was all earth and wood, this door was set into a frame of concrete. The light and hum were coming from in here.

  Lee pushed on the door, relieved that it didn't squeak. Then switching off the flashlight he handed it back to Phoebe, waving with his hand for her to wait there with Patty. And stepping through, the light was bright; his eyes were still accustomed to the dark. He had to blink and hold one hand up while they adjusted.

  The room he'd entered was obviously originally meant to be a storage or bedroom. The walls were stark and white, the floor, a yellowed linoleum, like that of a hospital. One bright, naked bulb hung from a cord in the ceiling's center. An adjustable portable table, like a massage therapist would use, was just below, and it was angled almost upright, so that Lee could only see the back.

  To Lee's horror, in blue, plastic laundry baskets lined up against the wall, were jumbles of fresh bones. They looked moist and white, with scraps and bits of gristle and red meat still clinging, especially around the joints. In front of one basket, was a tiny pair of shiny, black, shoes, almost exactly like the pair Patty wore to church on Sundays.

  Lee, once again aware of and intensely disliking that dry taste of brass which had crept back into his mouth, he inched his way around the table so he could see what was there.

  It was a girl.

  She was strapped tightly in place with leather restraints holding her to the table at her wrists, shoulders, thighs and ankles. She was naked, having been bitten, and chewed upon, especially around the breasts, pubic area and thighs. The marks were ragged, purple and deep, and in places whole chunks of flesh were gone. As it was, only one nipple remained, the other was just a ring of ragged teeth marks around a meaty, raw area at the front of the girl's breast. The navel and surrounding skin also had suffered greatly, as this appeared to have been a spot of special interest.

  The victim's head drooped, the blonde hair covering for the most part her face. She was certainly wasn't a little girl, and something about her haunted Lee as vaguely familiar.

  Over on the wall, above each basket, on hangers were girl's clothing, like trophies. It was all hung very proper and neat. There was a little girl's lacy, white Sunday dress, with pretty frills going around the puffy sleeves and hem. A pair of cotton briefs and a tiny camisole hung from another hanger in front. Another peg held a blue romper, which would have been worn by a little girl, no more than three or four. To the right of it was a pair of blue jeans and a pink top. The hanger in front of this displayed an expensive pair of silky, red panties and a matching bra.

  In seeing the underwear it all came together, and Lee knew who this was. It was Betty, the girl he'd peeped on with Art. Hanging there on the wall was the stolen underwear he'd seen her change in to. Recognizing her made Lee even that much more apprehensive. This wasn't a face in a photograph in the newspaper; this was a real person, a real victim.

  Phoebe must have not been able to endure the dark room anymore, as she came shyly around the door, leading Patty by the hand.

  Lee jumped back trying to block their way in. “No, don't."

  "Eww! It stinks in here, too.” Patty wrinkled up her nose. “It's worse than the doctor's office."

  Phoebe let the flash light drop to her side. “What is this place?"

  Lee tried to hold his ground. “Don't come in. Don't look."

  Patty pointed. “Look at all the clothes.” Then she looked down. “What's in those baskets?"

  Phoebe avoided Lee and went around the table the other way. He saw her cover her mouth with her hand. Then she spied the romper on the wall, and Phoebe instantly rushed over and ripped it down.

  "This is Evie's! Lee?” She held it up waving it in his face frantically. “This is Evie's!"

  There wasn't anything for Lee to say, he'd recognized it, too.

  Aghast, Phoebe looked down at the little bones and clumps of hair in the blue laundry basket then started to shake. “She's in there, isn't she?” Phoebe pointed the flashlight at the basket.

  Shocking everyone, the girl on the table moaned, and her head moved slightly side to side.

  "Oh, don't,” she mumbled. “Please, leave me alone. God, I'm thirsty. Oh, I'm so thirsty."

  Lee was shaking. “What do we do?"

  Phoebe wasn't paying attention; she was fixed upon the basket at her feet.

  Betty, the girl strapped to the table, began to let out a low moan. Not loudly at first, but it grew persistently stronger and more pitiful. It was really no more than a miserably sorrowful seepage of hopelessness, pain, and utter degradation. And suddenly the other door at the end of the room swung open, and there was Ridley Ballard, in the flesh and stark naked.

  Phoebe startled and screamed.

  The girl on the table and Patty joined in.

  Ridley was plainly surprised as well. He had some kind of clawed tongs in his hand, and he let them slip, dropping then to the floor with a clatter.

  Lee, too, hadn't been expecting the confrontation and was momentarily frozen.

  It was Ridley who came back to life first. His startled face changed back to an expression of utter calm, even pleasure.

  He looked up at Betty, “Oh hush. There'll be time for that later."

  Then he addressed the three newcomers. “I don't remember inviting any of you, but I'm so glad you all came.” He looked over eagerly at Patty. “Such a sweet little one, too.” He pointed as he glared. “You know I've had my eye on you, dear."

  Ridley let his gaze fall on Phoebe. “Oh, and you too. It really was just my bad luck earlier tonight. If I hadn't been so occupied here I'd have been a few minutes quicker and I'd have already gotten to you before you slipped into that window.” He now wagged his finger at her. “Didn't your mama ever tell you it is naughty for a girl like you to do what you were doing? It was quite a lovely show. I as enjoying it thoroughly until you saw me and spoiled it all by becoming so upset."

  Lee grabbed Phoebe, pulling her back.

  Ridely's face contorted. “You, though!” he snarled. “I've had enough of you!"

  Ridley, keeping his eyes on Lee, bent low, picking up the dropped tongs.

  Lee was aghast at the man's face. He knew he had kicked him pretty hard when he'd been down, but the left side of Ridley's face was a ruin. From the forehead to the bottom of his jaw by the ear was a terrible black bruise streaked with red. Ridley's natural eye was gone, and in its place was the awful glass eye of Captain Limpkins.

  With unexpected quickness, once Ridley had the tongs he dashed back into the room from which he had just entered.

  "Get back!” Lee ordered, moving towards the door. “Take Patty and get back in the cave!"

  As the girls ran, Lee stepped out into the next room.

  The main room of the bomb
shelter was large, but it was still just a bomb shelter. Ridley was already to the far wall and had grabbed a baseball bat, which had been leaning by the door at the main entrance.

  Surprisingly, the brightly lit room Lee entered was homey and nicely furnished. There was a kitchenette, table, chairs, sofa, books, and even a T.V. On one wall was a picture of an American flag and on another the smiling face of President Eisenhower.

  Lee stopped just inside as Ridley came towards him, the bat at the ready.

  "I'm going to bash your fucking brains in, boy.” Again all traces of the strange voice he'd heard at the funeral were gone. In its place was a sharply clipped, deeply New England accent. “Then I'm going to finish what you started with your girl friend. I'm gonna fuck her, and I'm going to do a hell of a lot better job of it than you were going to. And if I have any energy left, and I think I will, I'll even do your little sister, too. If you don't make me kill you right off, I'll tie you up and let you watch while I have them both, now how about that?"

  Lee's bare feet were standing on a homemade, brown looped rug. Crazily, he noticed there were handmade lacy doilies on all the arms and backs of the sofa and chairs.

  Ridley moved closer, his fingers gripping and re-gripping the bat. “Hold still.” He concentrated his gaze right on Lee. “Hold right where you are and I'll give you a good, solid shot. You won't feel a thing. I promise."

  Ridley swung, and Lee ducked. Ridley's momentum carried him around, and he stumbled, lurching into the sofa. Lee didn't waste any time in grabbing for the bat.

  But Ridley was quick; he rolled away and was instantly back on his feet, getting in a vicious swing, that just clipped Lee's ear.

  He pointed the bat at Lee and grinned viciously, “Not a bad swing for a man at least four times your age, huh, kid?"

  Lee backed away. He was oblivious to the pain in his ankle, though he was limping noticeably. His goal was to attempt to keep the sofa between himself and Ridley while looking around for something to grab to even things up.

  Ridley put the bat on his right shoulder, and the naked man fondled himself with his left hand. “I'm still a little sore from where you kicked me this morning, but I think it'll still work in a pinch.” He let go of himself and re-gripped the bat. “Maybe you'd like to come over here? You can kneel down, apologize, and kiss it and make it better?"

  Lee tried to measure Ridley up. He wasn't any taller than Lee, and he had a soft pot belly. His arms were smooth and slender, like a girl's, but Lee knew that he didn't hit like a girl. And he certainly didn't seem to have any trouble swinging that bat. Lee knew, even with his wrenched ankle, in a foot race, this middle-aged accountant guy wouldn't stand a chance, but here there was no where to run.

  Ridley let his fingers rise up individually as he re-gripped the bat. “Come on, take your medicine."

  He kicked at the back of the sofa, and it slid toward Lee. Though it killed his ankle to do it, Lee jumped up on the coffee table just as Ridley lunged forward and swung.

  The bat grazed his ribs. Lee teetered, losing balance, and his feet slipped. Over he went backwards, landing on an early American style chair, fracturing it.

  Delighted, the naked man capered over, prancing, his knees high. “Now were getting somewhere, aren't we my little man?"

  Lee scrabbled to his feet and picked up a section of chair leg. He'd done something to his injured ankle in the fall, and the pain was shooting up his leg. Still, he backed away holding the chair leg out definitely meaning to use it at the first and best opportunity.

  "That's quite a nice black eye I gave you this morning,” Lee spoke up. Ridley was creeping forward slowly. “Would you like another to match?"

  Ridley raised the bat to swing, and Lee threw the chair leg, hitting the maniac square in the face. Lee's plan was to grab for the bat and then run for the back door and out into the cave.

  But Ridley cut him off. Surprisingly he didn't go down from the blow. Blocking Lee's escape, he wiped the blood from his lips where the piece of wood had caught him then smeared the blood on the bat. “Now I hope you weren't trying to hit me with that little piece of wood.” He tittered, a high, fast, squealing laugh, and leaned forward showing off the Captain's eye. “You could put someone's eye out."

  The maniac must have thought this uproariously funny as he laughed and laughed, the sound squeaking between his teeth. When he stopped, acting as though out of breath, he let loose of the bat with one hand and touched a finger below his eye. “I dug my own eye out with a spoon this afternoon just so I could wear this. Do you really think you could hurt me?"

  Lee could hear the sharply clipped New England accent was back, even more strong than before. Ridley grinned a grisly grin. “Thanks, for bringing my treasure back to me. I've been ever so long without it."

  Lee tried to think and buy time. “You killed your own sister, didn't you?"

  Ridley made a pouty face, then stuck his tongue out and wiggled it ravenously. “Why yes, I did. And you know what?” He took a step to the side, forcing Lee around to where there would be no where to go except the corner. “Oh, please do guess. I hate it when I ask someone to guess and then they don't guess."

  Lee could see that he was being pressured into the corner. Once again, he thought he could buy time by talking. “Okay, what?” he asked.

  "I'm going to kill your sister, too.” Ridley seemed very pleased with this and did a little two-footed jig, once again sticking his tongue out. “I'm going to fuck her, and then I'm going to eat her."

  "Did you fuck your own sister?” Lee shot back.

  Ridley stopped. “Why as a matter of fact, no, I didn't. I was a bit young for that kind of high jinx, at the time. Though I must admit, I used to like to hide in the laundry hamper when she took a bath."

  Lee suddenly thought of Art.

  Ridley again let one hand fall from the bat. It dropped down, and he began touching himself again, this time more than casually. “I've always been quite the peeper. I used to get in my parent's closet and watch my mother and father. You'd be surprised at how vigorous they were. Some of the things they did.” He shook his head and went “Tsk-Tsk-Tsk” through his teeth. “I could have probably turned them into the sheriff, if I'd have had a mind to. The morality laws you know, can be quite stuffy about some things, even when they're done by consenting adults behind closed doors."

  As Ridley was naked, Lee could see exactly how excited he was becoming, and he tried to think to buy time. “So now you've come back? Am I talking to Ridley Ballard or Captain Limpkins?"

  Ridley didn't answer.

  The man was now becoming extremely excited. Occasionally, he would glance down while he rubbed himself. Lee was waiting, hoping that he'd become too distracted and give him the chance he needed.

  "That girl you have in there,” Lee said, hitching his head towards the door, “Her name is Betty, did you know that?"

  Ridley stood where he was, breathing heavily. “Oh I know everything about her. You'd be surprised what someone in her position will talk about if coaxed properly."

  "I peeped on her once,” Lee offered quickly.

  "Really?” Ridley's high voice came back. “Tell me, I'm all ears.” He giggled just a little titter and looked down again. “Well almost all ears."

  Lee took a tiny step, trying to get into position for a dash to the door. “I have a friend whose mom owns the dress shop on the highway near town."

  Ridley glanced down at himself again then quickly back up. “Oh yes, I've seen it."

  "My friend has a peep hole into one of the dressing rooms."

  Ridley looked up intently. It seemed both eyes, the real and the glass one moved, following Lee. “My, that is interesting. And you say you peeped on,” he twitched the bat at the door, “that girl in there?"

  Lee nodded. “She even stole that underwear that's hanging on your wall. I saw her do it."

  "Now she didn't tell me that,” Ridley cooed. “It must have slipped her mind."

  He looked d
own again.

  Lee ran. The ankle screamed, but he ran.

  Ridley was a step slow. Lee had him beat him to the door. But Ridley had the advantage of the longer reach. He swung, going for the head.

  Lee saw stars like he'd never known. He stumbled but didn't go down. Trying to regain his equilibrium, he fell through the doorway and into the table, ploughing face first into Betty.

  Ridley was right behind.

  "Oh that was quite a good swing, if I do say so myself,” Lee heard him say. “I think one more, maybe two will do the deed quite nicely."

  Betty raised her head and at the sight of Ridley, shrieked.

  For Lee the room was alternating between floods of red and white. He struggled to maintain, but everything was spinning madly.

  "Oh do shut up!” Ridley yelled, as Lee slumped against the wall. “Can't you see I'm about to kill this boy?"

  The crazy sound of the New England accent whirled around in Lee's head mixing in with a trickling, rolling cabrito and the soft sound of Javier's accent when he said, “jew."

  Betty didn't let up. She'd shriek and then draw in a breath and then scream again even louder.

  Ridley squeezed the grip of the bat, menacingly. “Now I've warned you about this before, young lady. This is not very proper."

  Betty must not have remembered.

  Ridley swung and caught her flat in the bottom of the stomach, and there was no more screaming.

  Lee leaned against the wall, blood oozing down from above his left temple, trickling off his ear and down his neck.

  Ridley pushed the end of the bat into Betty's stomach as though testing for a response. “I wouldn't have done that, you know, if all of you hadn't arrived at such a propitious time.” He spoke as though he was explaining something of great importance to Lee. “This storm is such a godsend. No one will ever think to look for any of you. And with all the chaos afterwards, I'll be free to enjoy myself for quite some time without a care in the world."

  With the Captain's eye leading the way, Ridley came around the table and raised the bat.