Fiends. Part 21

37.

When Jack drove her into the town of Wayside that evening, it looked different from the night before. Golden in the lowering sun. Busy, yet peaceful. And crowded. A dozen people stood in line at the movie theater.

*Would you like to see a show?' Jack asked.

*Would you?'

*Sure.'

Jack parked the car, and they walked to the theater. Inside, they found seats near the front. The lights faded out. And the previews started.

Marty could hardly believe that she was safe and watching a movie.

Only two nights ago, she'd been in a theater with Dan.

She'd spotted w.i.l.l.ya For the next couple of hours, she stared at the enormous screen but noticed little that was on it. She dwelled on the screen in her mind, the one that played a horrible film about w.i.l.l.y.

In that film, she relived it all.

Again and again.

Marty was pulled out of it when the lights came up. She found that she was squeezing Jack's hand.

On the way out of town, Jack asked if she would like some ice cream.

*Sure,' she said.

They stopped at the Wayside Motor Inn, and each had a hot fudge sundae at its all-night burger joint.

Then they were in the car again, rus.h.i.+ng along the dark, twisting road.

*Gives me the creeps,' Marty said. She slid across the seat, close to Jack. He put an arm across her shoulders.

*You don't need to be afraid.'

*He's still out there,' she said.

*But he doesn't have you. Not anymore. And tomorrow we'll go to the police.'

*Will you come with me?'

*Of course.'

*What if w.i.l.l.y comes for me tonight?'

*He won't.'

*He might already be at your cabin waiting for us.'

Jack's hand went to the back of her neck. Gently and firmly, he rubbed her there. *He won't get you. Not tonight. Not while I'm around.'

38.

*You look good in stripes. Anyone ever tell you that?' Laughing, w.i.l.l.y sc.r.a.ped the bottom of his chili can. Then he licked the spoon. *That was funny. Why aren't you laughing?'

The girl, sitting on the mattress with her legs crossed, said nothing. She gazed sullenly down at the can of chili in her hand. *By the way, sweetie, what's your name?'

She scooped a spoonful of chili into her mouth.

A flashlight lay on the table beside the big, battery powered lantern that lit the center of the room. w.i.l.l.y picked it up, turned it on, and threw its beam in her face.

She shut her puffy eyelids.

*What's your name?' w.i.l.l.y repeated. And then he remembered a game he used to play when he was a kid. He put down the flashlight. He went to the bed and knelt on it, facing the girl. She smelled like sweat and s.e.x. *Now,' he said, *what's your name?'

*Tina,' she said.

*You lie!' he blurted, and smacked her hard in the face with his open hand. The blow turned her head sideways. *What's your name?' he asked again.

She looked at him. She pressed her lips tightly together. They were cracked and bleeding. She said, *My name's Tina.'

*You lie!' he yelled, and smacked the other side of her face. *What's your name?'

She glared at him. She said nothing.

*YOU LIE!' He swung. His hand clapped her cheek so hard his fingers tingled and blood flew off her lips.

39.

*I'll be just outside the door if you need me,' Jack said from the bedroom doorway.

*I need you,' Marty said.

He grinned. *Maybe some other time. Goodnight.' He shut the door as he left.

Marty turned off the bedroom light and stood in the darkness. She thought about going out to Jack. But she didn't want to seem pushy.

Some other time.

She took off her clothes and climbed beneath the sheet, wis.h.i.+ng he was there beside her, holding her close and warm. His strong arms around her. Caressing her. Not doing anything funny, just being gentle and safea She woke up with a start.

Her heart was slamming. Her bangs were plastered to her forehead with sweat and the bed was soaked beneath her. She lay there motionless, wondering what had shocked her awake.

The room was pale with a creamy glow of moonlight. The door was still shut. Between the door and the dresser fell a shadow. The shadow was too small to conceal a person. But the open closet made a large darkness.

He's in there.

Ago, he's not. Don't be ridiculous.

He is!

The sweat seemed to freeze on Marty's skin. She pulled her top sheet up tightly under her chin.

The only sound she could hear was her own loud, thudding heart.

She glanced at the nightstand. There was no lamp on it.

Scissors.

After bandaging her back that morning, Jack had put them in a drawer of the nightstand. She'd used them, herself, just before supper.

Now, where'd I put them?

On the dresser.

But the dresser stood beside the open closet.

I'll never make it. He'll jump me beforea n.o.body's in the closet!

w.i.l.l.y is.

Marty inched her leg toward the side of the mattress. After a long time, her right heel dropped over the edge. She kept moving her leg sideways, slowly, slowly, until it was off the mattress all the way to her rump. Her foot on the floor, she started sliding her left leg over.

Eyes on the dark, open closet.

He's watching. If he starts coming, run for it.

At last, both her feet were on the floor.

She raised her back so gradually that the bedsprings hardly made a sound. They were nearly silent, too, when she leaned forward and eased her weight off the bed. She stood up straight, staring at the black closet.

Nothing seemed to move in there.

With six slow, careful steps, she reached the dresser. Her hand patted the top of it.

And found the scissors.

Picked them up. Clenched them tight.

With the tightness of a scream growing in her chest, she sidestepped to the closet. Raising the scissors high, she lurched into the darkness. She drove them down, hard and silent.

Pain seared her thigh.

She tried to stifle her yelp of hurt surprise.

Waving her other hand in the air, she caught the dangling string and pulled. The closet light came on.

n.o.body there.

n.o.body except Marty.

Marty, naked and sweaty and shaking. Marty, scissors in her hand. Marty with a ragged red gash ripped across the inner side of her right thigh.

She had a sudden urge to sit down on the closet floor and cry. Sit there and cry till dawn.

Instead, she bandaged her leg.

Then she got dressed, putting on the stiff, filthy shorts and jersey that w.i.l.l.y had stolen from the girl by the lake.

Then she took the shotgun out of the closet.

Sneaking through the dark house, she found Jack asleep on the living room sofa. She set down the shotgun. She found his trousers draped over a nearby chair.

His keys were in the right front pocket. His wallet was in the left rear pocket.

She took out a five-dollar bill and slipped the wallet back into his pocket. She kept the keys.

She was tempted to kiss him before leaving.

But she didn't dare.

He might wake up and not let her go.

40.