Fiends. Part 12

w.i.l.l.y jerked the wallet away.

*Hey!'

*Shut up, kid.' w.i.l.l.y leafed through some bills, then shut the wallet and stuffed it into his pocket. *You're filthy rich, you little s.h.i.+t.'

*I'd like to have it back,' the boy said. *Please? Keep the money, but I'd like to have my billfold back. It was a present.'

*Tough t.i.tty,' w.i.l.l.y said.

The boy's eyes narrowed behind his gla.s.ses. *Give it over.'

w.i.l.l.y laughed.

Suddenly, the boy went for him, face turned away, windmilling with aimless fists, crying out, *Give it you lousy son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h motherf.u.c.king basa!'

The gun barrel crashed against his skull.

Marty cringed at the sound of it.

The boy staggered on wobbly legs.

w.i.l.l.y hit him again on the head. Marty turned away.

When she looked back, the boy was lying on the ground and w.i.l.l.y was leaning into the car. *Your turn, hot stuff,' he said to the girl. *Come on.' He grabbed one of her hands and dragged her across the front seat.

Her free hand caught hold of the steering wheel. w.i.l.l.y tugged until she let go. Gasping with alarm, she tumbled backward out of the car. She landed on her back, legs in the air.

Making a show of gallantry, w.i.l.l.y helped her stand up. He turned her around and brushed the dust off the back of her knit shorts and jersey.

*Real cute,' he told Marty, looking over his shoulder and beaming her a smile. *Real cla.s.s.' He patted the girl's rump. *You'll look great in this outfit, honey. Think it'll fit? She hasn't got much in the t.i.t department. What do you think?'

Fiends *Just leave her alone, w.i.l.l.y.'

*That's twice you've said my name, you dumb f.u.c.k.' He faced the girl. *Take your clothes off.'

The girl stood rigid.

*Come on, hot stuff, strip.'

*The boy's clothes will fit me better,' Marty said.

*Shut up.'

*They will!'

*Strip,' he told the girl.

Marty threw open the door and started to climb out.

Turning, w.i.l.l.y pressed the muzzle between her eyes. It made a subtle ache, way back behind her eyes, like something she felt once while trying on the gla.s.ses of a friend. She sat back down in the car, but left the door open and kept her feet on the ground.

w.i.l.l.y jammed the barrel down the back of his jeans. He grabbed the girl's jersey at its waist and tried to lift it. She clamped down both arms, holding it in place.

*Get your arms up.'

She pressed them closer to her sides. Her mouth was a tight line.

*Okay,'w.i.l.l.y said. He let go of her. Taking out the pistol, he knelt by the unconscious boy. His thumb drew back the hammer. *I'll give you five. Start stripping.'

The girl didn't move.

*One.'

She still didn't move. Marty glanced at the revolver. Its hammer, at full c.o.c.k, looked like a vicious mouth about to snap shut.

*Two.'

The girl crossed her arms and gripped the bottom of her tight jersey. She peeled it off in a quick, fluid motion.

Marty felt sick for her.

*Three.'

She tucked the jersey under her chin and unbuckled her belt.

*Come on.'

Her fluttering hands opened her waist b.u.t.ton, found the zipper tab and pulled.

*Four.'

The jersey fell, but she didn't stop to pick it up.

*Real nice,' w.i.l.l.y said.

Both her hands tugged the tight shorts down her legs.

*Five.'

*There!' she cried out. Naked except for her panties, she hugged her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and sobbed loudly. *There! I'm done! There!'

w.i.l.l.y lowered the hammer with his thumb, then stuck the revolver into his jeans again. He picked up the girl's clothes, shook the dust off them, and tossed them to Marty. *Get them on,' he told her.

*I'll have to stand up.'

*So stand up.'

He went to the girl and put his hands on her shoulders.

*Keep your mitts off her,' Marty said.

*Shut up and get dressed.'

Holding the clothes, Marty watched him slide his hands down the girl's arms. They moved down her sides. They caressed her hips. They clutched and rubbed her b.u.t.tocks. Then they tore off her panties.

The girl tried to push him away.

*w.i.l.l.y!'

He threw her to the ground.

*DON'T!' Marty shouted as he dropped on top of the girl. *Stop it! Get off her!'

She dropped the clothes, grabbed w.i.l.l.y's arm and tried to pull him away. It was slippery with sweat. He got it free and swung at Marty. The girl under him lashed out with one hand, fingers hooked and spread like claws. w.i.l.l.y pulled up short on his swing at Marty and blocked the girl's attack.

Then he drove a fist down.

Marty heard it connect with the girl's nose. The naked body gave a grotesque lurch and lay still.

w.i.l.l.y got between the girl's legs.

Marty dived, tearing him off her. They rolled on the ground. When they stopped rolling, w.i.l.l.y was on top. He sat on Marty's chest, pinning her arms under her knees. With one hand, he pulled her hair until she gasped with pain. When her mouth opened, he jammed the gun barrel in.

It was thick and cold, and tasted of oil. Its front sight cut the roof of her mouth. It pressed far back toward her throat until she gagged.

23.

*Lucky for you a stiff's no fun in the sack.' w.i.l.l.y laughed and pulled the gun out of Marty's mouth. Its front sight chipped a tooth. He climbed off her. *Get dressed.'

Marty rolled over, choking, spitting gritty bits of tooth into the dirt.

*Now.'

She got to her feet and picked up the girl's shorts.

*Put them on.'

They fitted snugly. After she picked up the jersey, she knelt by the boy. He looked very still. Through the thin fabric of his s.h.i.+rt, she felt his body heat and the rise and fall of his breathing.

*Knock it off,' w.i.l.l.y said.

Ignoring him, Marty went to the girl. In the moonlight, her face looked black with blood. The nose was mashed sideways, its ridge broken.

*Put on her top.'

Marty turned her back to w.i.l.l.y and started to unb.u.t.ton her blouse.

*Don't be shy,' he said. *Just think of me as your guy. Which I am. The only guy you're ever gonna have.'

She didn't move.

*Turn around right now or else.'

She turned around. Facing him, she took off her wet blouse. w.i.l.l.y stared at her. Not drying herself, she pushed her hands through the jersey sleeves and pulled it over her head. It stuck to her wet skin.

w.i.l.l.y reached out a hand.

Marty backed away from him. And kept backing away until the side of the car stopped her.

*Sit down,' w.i.l.l.y said. *Right there. On the ground. Better still, lie down.'

*What for?'

He grabbed the neck of her jersey and pulled. She went to her knees.

*Lie on your stomach.'

She did.

*Now stay that way.'

Kneeling down, w.i.l.l.y went through the boy's pockets. There was. only a handkerchief and comb.

*Give him back his wallet,' Marty said.

*Shut the f.u.c.k up.'

He climbed into the car, found the girl's leather purse on the floor and dumped it on his lap. Marty, on the ground, couldn't see what fell out. But she saw w.i.l.l.y pick up a billfold and look inside. He grinned. *Not bad. Kid's got rich folks.'

*Maybe she works.'

*Maybe we'll take her with us.'

*Great idea. Hold her for ransom?'

*Nope,'w.i.l.l.y said. He dropped the purse. *Ransom, that'd be too much trouble. I'll just take her along for a little variety.'

*Broken nose and all?' Marty asked.

Not answering, he climbed out of the car and went to its front. There, he opened the hood. Her jerked a hose loose and threw it into the lake.

*Finished?' Marty asked.