One rainy night, p.8
One Rainy Night, page 8
Crouching at the rear of the nearest black and white, he tried keys until he found one that fit the trunk. The lid swung up. He felt around in the darkness of the trunk until he found the 12-gauge Ithaca riot gun. He took it out, slammed the trunk, and trotted to the next car. As he opened its trunk and lifted out the shotgun, he considered using one of these cars instead of his own.
And decided against it.
With all hell breaking loose, he sure didn’t want to be driving around town in a cop car. Too damn conspicuous. The crazies might zero in on it.
Shotgun braced under each arm, Trev walked toward the station.
He resisted an urge to run.
Slip on the wet pavement, go down on your back, and in comes the rain through the face holes.
He wished he hadn’t thought of that. It made him feel cold and shaky in the bowels.
But at least that cheerful scenario hadn’t occurred to him until now, when he was on his way back.
I’ll have to wash off these Ithacas before we go, he realized. Shit. Another delay. Might already have waited too long. God, Maureen, hang in there.
He switched one of the shotguns to his other arm, pulled open the station door, stepped into the light, flinched at the sight of Francine aiming a revolver at his face, slipped on the tile floor and fell on his butt.
7
‘Let’s clean her up,’ Buddy said, nudging the body with his toe. ‘See what our tarbaby looks like under that shit.’
‘I still think we should call the cops,’ Sheila said.
‘Get real,’ Buddy told her.
‘I mean it. She tried to bash your brains out.’
‘No cops.’
‘Yeah,’ Doug said. ‘Let’s keep her.’ Grinning at Buddy, he said, ‘We were one babe short. Now we got one for you.’
‘Crazy bitch,’ Buddy muttered.
Lou couldn’t stop staring at the young woman. She gave him the creeps, black like that. Ever since he’d come into the foyer with the others and seen her, he’d felt cold and shaky. Last night, they’d done all that to Chidi. Now, a gal brings pizza to the house and she shows up covered with wet stuff that makes her as black as a nigger and she tries to whack Buddy. Like she was some kind of avenging phantom, or something.
Fucking weird.
They’d checked outside and the rain was black. If it was rain.
Lou had tried to tell himself that this was just an ordinary woman who came to bring the pizza and got caught in the storm. But that didn’t ease his fears. Why in hell was black crap coming down out there? Why in hell did she try to brain Buddy?
He couldn’t rid himself of the awful feeling that, somehow, Chidi was behind it.
Buddy and Doug were spooked, too. Even though they kept joking around and stuff, he could see it in their eyes.
‘Yeah,’ Buddy said after a few moments of silence. ‘Let’s lug her into the john.’ ‘I don’t know if we should touch her,’ Sheila said.
Doug, mocking her in a trembling voice said, ‘Oh, my, it might be contagious.’
‘It’s nothing to kid about. I mean, we don’t know what that stuff is. It’s black.’
Buddy spread his arms and smiled at her. His shirt and pants looked smudged with soot from his struggle with the woman. His hands didn’t appear stained, but they’d been black before he wiped them on the legs of his trousers. Some faint, gray blotches still showed on the inner sides of his wrists.
‘If it’s contagious, I’ve got it. And I’m gonna get you!’ He lurched forward like a zombie, reaching for Sheila.
‘Stop it!’ she cried out, quick-stepping away from him. ‘You’re not amusing.’
Baring his teeth, Buddy pivoted toward Cyndi. She stood her ground. ‘Just quit it.’
He dropped his act. ‘Look, gang, I got that stuff on me and it didn’t do anything.’
‘How do you know there isn’t an incubation period?’ Sheila asked.
‘What kinda period’s that?’ Doug asked, grinning.
‘That’s when gals bleed from their incubators,’ Buddy explained.
‘I mean it, guys.’
Deciding to take some of the heat off Sheila, Lou said, ‘What she means is, maybe a space of time has to go by before you show any symptoms.’
‘I know what she means, asswipe,’ Buddy said. ‘And it’s stupid. The rain only started a minute or two before this babe went berserk with her rock. It’s been – what? – five or ten minutes since I nailed her.’
‘Good point,’ Doug told him.
‘So it doesn’t do shit, touching her.’
Doug seemed convinced, ‘I’ll help you,’ he said.
Buddy looked at Lou. ‘OK,’ Lou said.
‘You guys take her feet. Whatever you do, don’t drop her, she’ll fuck up the carpet.’
Lou followed Doug around to the feet of the sprawled woman. She was wearing low heels. A little bit of green still showed where the shoes weren’t stained with black. She didn’t wear stockings. Her shins and ankles were streaky. The damp skirt of her dress reached down just past her knees, and looked glued to her legs. Here and there, its fabric was still green.
Lou realized that Doug had already lifted her left ankle off the floor.
He didn’t want to touch her.
But he wrapped both hands around her right ankle. He’d expected her skin to feel cold. It was warm, though. It felt good. Some of his dread seemed to ease.
She’s just a normal woman, he told himself, and lifted. Doug brought her other leg high. Buddy, squatting, grabbed her under the armpits. He straightened up. The sudden increase in weight nearly pulled her ankle from Lou’s grip.
‘Heavy mother, ain’t she?’ Doug said.
Sure heavier than she looks, Lou thought, taking careful steps as Buddy walked backward with her. The woman looked slim. Pretty tall, though.
‘Is her skirt dragging?’ Buddy asked.
‘Just a little,’ Cyndi said.
‘Well, get it off the floor, damn it.’
Wrinkling her nose, Cyndi rushed in from the side. She reached under and pulled a handful of skirt toward her and folded it over the gal’s thigh. Then she scowled at her hand.
‘I told you, there’s nothing to worry about.’
Buddy changed direction toward the foot of the stairs.
‘We’re going upstairs?’ Doug asked.
‘My room,’ Buddy said.
Lou had figured they would carry her into the guest restroom on the ground floor. But he realized, now, that it only had a sink and toilet, no tub or shower. Buddy’s bedroom, on the second floor, had its own john with a big bathtub.
And we’re going to put her in it.
He wondered if they would take her clothes off. The girls won’t stand for that, he thought. Maybe they’ll strip her but make us leave.
Buddy started up the stairs. The top of the gal’s head was pressed against his belly. Her shoulders were bare except for straps that looked like wide ribbons. The dress was low cut, but not that low. It didn’t show any of her breasts or cleavage. Her breasts were there, though, making the fabric bulge. And they shook just a little as she was jostled.
Oh, man, Lou thought.
Sheila and Cyndi, behind him on the stairs, weren’t saying anything.
They probably don’t like this.
He suddenly wished the girls were gone. As much as he liked Sheila, she had a real prissy streak. She still wouldn’t let him get into her pants, even though they’d been going together since summer. She sure wouldn’t go along with it if they wanted to mess around with this gal.
Cyndi wasn’t as big a prude as Sheila. But she was likely to throw a fit if they tried something. Especially Doug.
Shit.
This gal’s our captive. She’s at our mercy. We could do anything to her.
But not with Sheila and Cyndi here.
Lou was surprised when he found himself at the top of the stairway. The climb had been a cinch.
Cyndi sidestepped by, and led the way to Buddy’s bedroom.
Maybe she’ll be OK, Lou thought.
They followed her into the room. She hurried ahead of them and turned on the bathroom light.
Looking over his shoulder and changing course for the john, Buddy said, ‘We’ll put her right in the tub so this stuff doesn’t get on anything.’
When they reached the tub, Buddy stepped over its side. He lowered her while Doug climbed in with her left leg. Lou leaned over the edge and put her right leg down.
‘OK,’ Buddy said. ‘Everybody out.’
Doug’s mouth fell open. ‘Huh?’
‘Go on downstairs, all of you. Look in the kitchen, find something to eat, have some more drinks.’
‘I thought we were gonna give this babe a bath.’
‘Not we. Me. She’s mine.’
‘Hey, man, we helped you get her up here.’ Lou, feeling robbed, nodded but didn’t speak.
‘Yeah, thanks,’ Buddy said. ‘Now get out.’
‘That’s not fair.’
‘Come on,’ Sheila said, taking hold of Lou’s wrist. ‘We don’t want any part of this.’
Speak for yourself, he thought. But he didn’t argue. He let Sheila guide him toward the bathroom door.
‘Shit,’ Doug said. ‘This really sucks.’
‘Let’s go,’ Cyndi told him.
‘Buddy.’
‘Get off it,’ Cyndi said, sounding a little miffed. ‘What do you want with her, anyway? You got me. Besides, she’s old.’
‘She’s not that old.’
Moments later, Doug followed Cyndi out of the bathroom. His face was red. He looked as if he might either start to cry or take a swing at somebody.
‘One of you shut the door,’ Buddy called.
Doug turned around. He slammed it.
‘Don’t be such a sourpuss,’ Cyndi told him, and thrust her fingers under his belt buckle and pulled him up against her.
Lou wished Sheila would do something like that to him. But dragging him toward the door, she said, ‘Let’s go down and find some food.’
8
Denise unplugged the cord, put aside the lid, and dumped the popcorn into the plastic bowl. When she set the popper down, Kara tossed in a chunk of butter. It met the hot metal, sizzled and started to melt.
‘I’ll do the butter and salt,’ Kara said. ‘You can get the drinks. I think I’ll have a New York Seltzer. Do you know what Tom likes?’
‘He’s big on Pepsi, if you’ve got some.’
‘Oh, sure we do.’
Denise went to the refrigerator. It was loaded: cans of Bud, Diet Coke and Pepsi, bottles of New York Seltzer and Michelob, a jug of white wine. She took out two Pepsis and a bottle of cherry-flavored seltzer.
‘I hope he gets here pretty soon,’ Kara said. ‘Popcorn’s best when it’s hot. It’s OK after it’s cooled off, but I think it loses something, don’t you?’
‘Definitely.’
‘What’ll we do when he gets here?’ Kara asked, looking away from the melting butter and furrowing her brow with concern. ‘I really don’t think we should bore him with the birthday party, do you?’
‘We can put on whatever you want.’ Denise took three glasses down from a cupboard, then returned to the refrigerator for ice cubes.
‘I have some movies Mom taped off cable for me.’
As Kara started to name them, Denise thought about the tapes she’d rented for tonight. She wished she hadn’t left them at home. They might not be suitable for Kara, but . . .
Why don’t I ask Tom over to my place? Lynn said they’d be back early. He can follow me home, and maybe we can watch one or two of them. And it’ll give us a chance to be alone.
The idea made her nervous and excited. She really shouldn’t have him in the house with her parents gone, but it’d sure be neat. As long as they didn’t get too carried away. And as long as nobody ever found out.
‘So what do you think?’ Kara asked. ‘Maybe one of those? Maybe not the Disney stuff, you guys are too old for that. But maybe Goonies or The Stuff. Have you ever seen The Stuff?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Oh, it’s great.’ With a potholder, Kara lifted the popper and tilted it over the bowl, dribbling butter onto, the popcorn. ‘See, there’s this white goop kind of like marshmallow topping? Only thing is, people can’t stop eating it and it turns them into these awful yucky monsters. It’s really gross, but it’s funny, too, and it’s not really a kid movie. You think Tom’Il like it?’
‘We can give it a try. But you must’ve already seen it.’
‘Oh, I like to watch movies over and over again if they’re good.’ She shook the popcorn bowl and jiggled it up and down.’ I bet I’ve seen Willy Wonka a hundred times.’
‘A hundred?’
‘Well, maybe just seventy-eight or eighty. I never actually counted.’ She set the bowl on the counter and started to sprinkle salt onto the popcorn.
And the doorbell rang.
‘He’s here!’
‘Made good time, didn’t he?’ Denise picked up the Pepsis and seltzer. ‘Do you want to bring the glasses in?’ She watched while Kara gathered the glasses, pinning one between her wrist and chest, holding the others in her hands. ‘Now, be careful.’
‘I don’t drop things. I’m not like Dad.’
The girl followed her into the living room. The doorbell rang again as Denise set down the cans and bottle on the table in front of the sofa. ‘Coming!’ she called.
She hurried for the door, leaving Kara behind to unload the glasses.
She slid the guard chain off its track. ‘What’s the password?’ she asked.
‘C’mon, open up.’
She did.
Tom, face shiny black, lunged across the threshold thrusting the steel tip of his umbrella at Denise’s midsection. She gasped and twisted away. The dull point plunged under the placket of her shirt and streaked across her skin. Half the closed umbrella rushed against her belly, slick and wet, before its tip poked a hole through the side of her shirt. As she fell, she grabbed it with both hands.
The floor pounded her shoulder and hip. Keeping her hold on the umbrella, she rolled over on it. The weapon was wrenched from Tom’s grip and snapped against the tile.
He kicked the side of her thigh.
‘STOP IT!’ Kara shouted. ‘YOU STOP THAT!’
He kicked her in the ribs.
Why’s he doing this!
Clutching the shoulders of her shirt, he yanked Denise backward to her knees. Buttons flew off. She tried to squirm out of the shirt, but only managed to free one shoulder before Tom clamped an arm across her throat. He jerked her head against his belly, bending her spine back, choking her.
Denise felt her head starting to go warm and numb. Her ears rang. The lights, the furniture, Kara watching with her mouth wide – all were rimmed with flashing electric blue.
She reached behind her. Hooked the backs of Tom’s knees. Jerked them forward and tried to throw her weight against him.
His knees folded.
He fell, keeping his chokehold and tumbling Denise onto him. She heard his wind blow out. With both hands, she forced his forearm away from her throat. He grabbed his wrist. She didn’t have the strength to resist the power of his two arms. But she tucked her chin down to protect her throat. As his forearm shoved against it, she writhed and pushed and sank her teeth into the sleeve of his jacket and clamped down with all her might.
Crying out, Tom tore his arm from her mouth.
Denise flipped over, rolled off him.
He rolled, reaching out as she got to her hands and knees. He jerked her arm out from under her, tugged her toward him.
And Kara, standing behind him, swung a fireplace poker like a golf club. Its brass handle struck him above the ear. The impact knocked his head sideways. His grip on Denise went loose. She fell against him as he flopped onto his back.
She pushed herself up.
Tom was sprawled out motionless, Kara raising the poker for another swing.
‘No, don’t!’
She lowered it.
On her knees, panting for air, Denise rubbed the front of her neck and stared down at Tom. His hair, normally the same light shade of blond as Denise’s hair, was slicked down and black. Only the lids of his closed eyes and an area under his chin were unsoiled by the ebony liquid.
‘Did I kill him?’ Kara asked. Her voice sounded high and frightened.
The soaked front of Tom’s jacket rose and fell, so he was breathing.
‘No,’ Denise gasped. ‘You only knocked him out.’ She looked up at Kara. ‘Thanks.’
‘Why’d he go and do that?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Gads.’
‘I’ve never ever seen him fight with anyone. I just can’t . . . it’s like he lost his mind. It’s crazy.’
‘What is that all over him?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Is the rain dirty tonight? It looks dirty. I thought rain was always supposed to be clean. Do you think he got mad at you because he came over and got all dirty like that?’
‘I doubt it. Maybe the rain’s toxic or something, I don’t know.’
‘You mean like poison?’
‘Maybe. I don’t know.’
Kara’s red face contorted and her chin began to tremble. ‘Well, Denise . . .’ Tears came to her eyes. ‘You’ve got it on you.’
Denise looked down. Below her white bra, her skin was smeared dark gray from the umbrella. She also noticed a red mark left by the steel tip. Though the dull point hadn’t broken her skin, the mark felt hot. She rubbed it gently.
Raising her eyes, she saw Kara weeping silently, her face flushed and tears running down her cheeks.
‘Don’t worry, OK? I feel fine. Just a little beat up. But I don’t feel weird or poisoned or anything.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yeah.’ She straightened her shirt and pulled it shut. All the buttons were gone except for one just below her throat, which hadn’t been fastened. With shaky hands, she pushed that one into its hole.
‘Maybe you’d better wash,’ Kara said. ‘You know? Just in case . . .’
