Dark Mountain (15 page)

Kneeling on his bedroom floor, Nick unstrapped his sleeping bag from his pack frame and rolled it aside. Right now, he thought, he would be lying next to Julie high in the mountains, if only…“Damn it,” he muttered.

He opened his pack and began to empty it, tossing his dirty clothes into a heap for the laundry hamper, setting aside his cook kit, utensils, and water bottle for a trip to the kitchen, making a third pile of equipment—compass, first-aid kit, rope, toilet articles—that would need no attention and could simply be returned to the pack for the next time.

The next time?

After what had happened at Mesquite, he doubted he would ever want to go backpacking again. But you never know. Always in the past, when he stayed away from the mountains too long, he’d been hit with a longing to return, a strong aching need like homesickness. Maybe he wouldn’t get that feeling anymore.

Maybe nothing would ever be the same again.

He’d killed a man. He knotted up at the thought of it. Everyone—even the sheriff deputy after hearing the story—had told him it was all right, that the guy had it coming, that Nick had performed a service by ridding the world of him. Nick had told himself the same thing, over and over, and part of him was glad he’d done it—avenged Karen and Julie, stopped the man from attacking Julie’s father with the rock, made it so he would never hurt anyone again. But deep
inside he felt a steady tight sickness at the knowledge that he had ended a life. The man was dead. Dead. He would never again feel the sun on his face, or…

Or rape another woman.

If he’d been dead a week ago, he couldn’t have attacked Karen or Julie. He couldn’t have messed up their lives, and my life.

And if he’d gotten away, there might’ve been campers tonight or next week or next year to terrorize, maybe kill.

I did the right thing, Nick told himself. I shouldn’t have to feel like shit. It’s not fair.

“Nick?”

He looked over his shoulder. His father, dressed in a bathrobe, was standing in the doorway.

“Phone call.”

He felt a cold edge of panic. From the look on Dad’s face, though, he realized he had nothing to fear. “Who is it?”

“A certain Miss O’Toole.”

Nick got to his feet, wincing with the ache of sore muscles, and hobbled down the hallway behind his father.

“You can take it in the den, but stay off the couch in those jeans or your mother’ll throw a fit.”

“Right,” he said.

Dad limped into the master bedroom, and Nick hurried ahead to the den. He snatched the phone off its cradle and said, “I’ve got it.” The bedroom extension went dead. “Hello?” he asked.

“Hi.” Her voice sounded slightly different over the phone, but familiar enough to send a warm rush through Nick.

“Hi, Julie. How are you?”

“Long time no see, huh?”

“Yeah.”

There was a long pause. Nick tried to find something to say, and wondered if Julie were having the same trouble. Even with the silence, he liked the feel of being close to her.

“I just thought I’d call,” she finally said, “and make sure you got home okay.”

He smiled. “Afraid the curse might’ve got us?”

He heard her quiet laughter. “Pardon me while I barf,” she said.

“Benny still at it?”

“We had about two hours of peace after we left the hospital. That’s because he fell asleep. Then Dad had to stop at Denny’s so we could feed our faces, and Benny spent the rest of the time trying to convert us. The kid’s warped.”

“We’re not allowed to talk about it. I brought it up once, and Mom nearly went through the ceiling. You know the first commandment?”

“Whose?”

“God’s. You know, to Moses? The stone tablets?”

“Oh, those commandments. I know the eleventh is, ‘Don’t get caught.’”

Chuckling, Nick started to sit on the couch. He stopped himself in time, and sat on the carpet instead. “Anyway, the first commandment says, ‘Thou shalt have no other gods before me’—something like that. According to Mom, that means it’s a sin to believe in occult stuff.”

“Like curses?”

“Like curses, ghosts, Ouija boards, palm reading, astrology, witches and goblins and gremlins.”

“What the hell’s a gremlin?”

“I don’t know, a fairy.”

“Something that lives in San Francisco and lisps?”

“And eats quiche.”

“We oughta go on Letterman,” Julie said.

“It hurts to laugh.”

“Me, too. Gets my stomach muscles.”

“Yeah. So stop laughing.”

“You, too.”

“Right. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah, Mom and the curse.”

That brought a snort and gales of laughter through the phone. “Oh,” Julie finally gasped. “I’m sorry. I”—she giggled—“I think I’m…a bit giddy. No sleep.” He heard her take a deep breath. “Okay. I’m all right. Continue.”

“I think I was done.”

“Oh. All right. So. What’ve you been up to?”

“Just unpacking.”

“I’m saving that for tomorrow morning. I don’t even want to
look
at that junk. The first thing I did was get in the shower.” He pictured her naked under a hot spray, rubbing her breasts with soap. “Man, it sure feels good to be clean again. Now I’ve got Ben-Gay from head to foot.”

“Bet you smell terrific.”

“The fumes make my eyes water. And my nightgown’s sticking to me.” He pictured her in a flannel nightgown. Of course, it probably wasn’t flannel. Not in the middle of summer. Something light and transparent, and clinging to her breasts. He wondered if she’d put any Ben-Gay on her breasts. “…like a real person again,” she said. “The Long Hike almost did me in.”

“Almost did us all in.”

“How’s Heather getting along?”

“Not bad. The doctor says she’ll be sore for a couple of weeks, but it’s nothing to worry about. Mom’s got her in the kitchen, soaking it.”

“Maybe she oughta try some Ben-Gay.”

“Yeah. Couldn’t hurt.”

“At first it’s pretty hot, but you get used to it.”

“Maybe I’ll try some. After my shower.”

“You’re still yucky, huh?”

“Yeah. I got last shot at the bathtub. I’m still waiting for Rose to get done. She takes forever.”

“Just as well. What if I’d called while you were in the shower?”

“I would’ve called back.”

“I might’ve been in bed by then.”

“Wouldn’t you have waited up?”

“Maybe, maybe not. A girl’s gotta get her beauty sleep.”

“Good thing I wasn’t in the shower, then.”

“A very good thing.”

There was a long silence. Nick suspected she was getting ready to hang up. He clutched the phone tightly.

“Well…” she said.

His heart was thudding and his mouth was parched.

“…I guess I’d better let you—”

“Julie?”

“Yes?” she asked in a hushed voice.

“Look, I want to see you.” There. It was out.

“That would be nice,” she said.

“Tomorrow? Tomorrow night? Maybe we could go to a movie or something.”

“I’d really like that.”

“Great.” He let out a nervous laugh. “This is so weird.”

“What’s weird?”

“Asking you for a date. I mean, like we were almost strangers or something.”

“We’re the same people who were in the mountains, Nick.”

“I know. I guess so.”

“You guess so?” She laughed softly.

“It’s just that, you know, now we’re back. It’s strange.”

“I haven’t changed. I still feel the same about you.”

A smile trembled on Nick’s lips. “I feel the same, too. I really miss you. How about seven o’clock?”

“Fine. Just let me check with Dad. Hold on a minute.”

Nick waited. He took a deep, shaky breath. He’d done it, he’d asked her and she’d seemed as eager as he was.
I still feel the same about you
. It was almost too good to believe. He was already nervous, anticipating the date.

“Okay,” she said. “It’s all set. Tomorrow night at seven?”

“Great. I’ll see you then.”

“Do you know how to find the house?”

“No, but Dad…” He didn’t want to lose the sound of Julie’s voice. “Maybe you’d better tell me.”

There was blue terry cloth under Karen’s face. Her lungs felt on fire, pain blasting through her body as a spasm of coughing shook her. Someone’s hand was rubbing her back. As she lifted her head, nausea swept through her. She managed to get to her knees and twist around, briefly meeting Meg’s worried eyes before scurrying to the toilet and vomiting.

When she finished, she sat on the toilet seat, sobbing and coughing, gasping for breath. Through teary eyes, she watched Meg fold up the bloody bathmat. She unrolled some tissue, wiped her eyes, her mouth and chin.

“How’s the noggin?” Meg asked in her low, husky voice.

Karen groaned. She drew fingers through her wet hair, and felt a lump above her ear.

“Thank God I heard you yell. I was about to turn on the TV.” Meg opened the medicine cabinet. She took down a box, slid a tampon out, and tore off its wrapper. She handed it to Karen.

While Karen inserted it, Meg pulled the bathtub stopper. “I tell you, kiddo, you scared the shit out of me. How’re you feeling? Should I run you over to emergency?”

“I’m okay,” she muttered.

“I was gonna give you about ten more seconds to wake up, and then I was gonna call the paramedics.”

“How long was I out?”

Meg shook her head. “No idea. Maybe three or four minutes, I don’t know. I just knew your ticker was still ticking and you were breathing. I figured you’d come around, sooner or later, but I started to have my doubts.”

“What a mess.”

“The bathmat’s a goner. I’ll clean up the rest after you’re in bed.”

“No, I’ll—”

“You’re in no condition to do anything, kiddo.”

Karen looked down at herself, wrinkled her nose, and unrolled more toilet paper. As she rubbed away streaks of blood, she said, “I’ve gotta take another shower.”

“I suppose you do. Sit tight for a second.” Meg hurried from the bathroom. Karen continued to clean herself. Soon, Meg returned with a spool of tape. Reaching up, she worked at securing the shower curtain to its rod. “Think it was the curse?” she asked.

“I
know
it was the curse.”

Meg chuckled.

“A week early.”

“Stress’ll do that. On the bright side, at least you know the bastard didn’t knock you up.”

“I knew that before,” she said.

When the curtain was in place, Meg ran the water. Karen clung to her arm for support, and staggered on wobbly legs to the tub. At her friend’s urging, she didn’t try to stand while she washed. She sat under the hot spray. With Meg waiting on the other side of the curtain, she shampooed and soaped herself and rinsed.

Meg stood by, hands out to catch her, while she climbed from the tub and dried. “Safe now?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“You finish drying. I’ll get us a little something.”

“A little what?”

“I’ll surprise you.”

Left alone, Karen wrapped herself in the towel. She washed down two aspirin tablets with a glassful of cold water. She brushed her teeth. Then she drew a comb through her hair, wincing as she snagged tangles.

“In your room,” Meg called from the hallway.

Karen went to her bedroom. Meg, just inside, greeted her with a wink. The covers of her bed had been pulled back, showing her flowered blue sheets. Her chair had been dragged close to the bedside. On its seat rested a tray adorned with crackers, a wedge of cheddar, a small wheel of Gouda, and a cheese knife. Two wine goblets stood on
the lamp table, and beside them was an open bottle of white wine.

In spite of her aches, Karen managed a smile.

“Medicine,” Meg said. “Cheese and crackers to settle your gut. A Masson Sauvignon Blanc to help you sleep.”

“You’re really fantastic.”

“I know.”

Karen put on her nightgown. She climbed into bed, pulled up the top sheet, and eased herself against the headboard. Meg poured the wine. She set the tray across Karen’s lap, and sat on the chair.

They lifted their glasses. “Here’s how,” Meg said.

“Here’s to you,” Karen said. “You saved my life.”

Meg blushed. “What are roommates for?”

They clinked their glasses, and drank.

“A decent meal,” Arnold proclaimed, pulling up his chair to the breakfast table. He sniffed his plateful of bacon and fried eggs, and sighed loudly. “Ah, the comforts of home.”

Smiling, Alice set a plate down in front of Heather. “I didn’t see you turning up your nose at your other breakfasts.”

“You even wanted mine,” Rose reminded him.

“I’ll eat anything in the mountains. But this, now—this is real food.”

“I wonder what’s keeping Nick,” Alice said.

“He’s probably getting ready for his big date.”

“At nine in the morning?”

Arnold laughed, and started to cut his bacon.

Alice carried the final two plates to the table, then went to the kitchen doorway and called for Nick.

“Right there!” he yelled.

“Your egg’ll get cold,” Alice warned. She returned to the table, sat down, and sighed, glad to be off her feet. She didn’t look forward to grocery shopping, walking the aisles with stiff legs and blistered feet. There wasn’t much choice, though. Not if they wanted supper to night.

She heard the shuffle of Nick’s moccasins on the kitchen floor. He came up behind her, and sat at the table. He gave her a quick smile. His eyes had a jittery look. “Are you all right?” Alice asked.

“Sure. I didn’t sleep too well, is all.”

“Nervous about the big date?” Arnold asked.

Shrugging, Nick picked up his fork. It quivered in his shaky
hand. He started to cut his eggs with the edge of it. Alice felt uneasy watching him, as if his tension were contagious. She started to eat, but barely noticed the taste of her food. Obviously, the boy was bothered by more than anxiety over tonight’s date with Julie. He’d been through a nightmare, and she couldn’t begin to guess how deeply it might’ve affected him. Julie might help take his mind off the rest of it.

“Where’ll you be taking her?” she asked.

Nick shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll have to check the paper. There’re all kinds of movie theaters in the Valley.”

“Plenty of drive-ins,” Arnold said.

“I don’t want you taking her to a drive-in.”

“Why not?” Rose asked. “They’re neat.”

“Nick knows why not.”

“
We
go,” Rose persisted.

“That’s different.”

“Why?”

“Just you never mind, young lady.”

“We used to call them passion pits.”

“Arnold!”

Rose tilted back her head and smiled, showing a mouthful of chewed bacon. “Oh, I get it.”

“What?” Heather asked.

“Mom doesn’t want ’em making out.”

“Some of my fondest memories…” Arnold started.

“That’s enough.” She turned to Nick. He was staring at his plate as if oblivious to the conversation, swabbing up the last of his egg yolk with a bit of toast. “You will not take Julie to a drive-in. I’m sure her father wouldn’t approve, either.”

“I’m not arguing,” Nick said.

“Especially on a first date—”

“He’s not arguing,” Arnold interrupted.

“Okay. I’m not one to nag. I just want to be sure we understand each other.”

“I understand,” Nick said.

“So,” Arnold said, “what’s on the agenda for today?”

“I, for one, have to go grocery shopping.” Alice got up from the table. “Who wants to come along?” She picked up the coffeepot.

“Me,” Rose blurted.

“Me, too,” said Heather.

“You’d better stay home,” Arnold told her, “and keep off your feet.”

“Oh, Dad.”

“He’s right,” Alice said, stepping around the table to refill his mug. “The more you stay off that foot, the quicker it’ll heal.”

“Time heals all heels,” Nick said, and smiled. His first real smile of the morning.

Alice poured him more coffee, then refilled her own mug and took the pot back to the counter. “Anything special I need to pick up at the store?”

“Vodka and Dos Equis,” Arnold said.

“Of course.” She sat down and took a sip of hot coffee, pleased that she’d turned the conversation to a less objectionable direction. “I think I’ll pick up a new Ace bandage. The old one’s a disgrace.”

“I used up the Ben-Gay last night,” Nick said.

Arnold sniffed. “So that’s what I smell. Thought it was Rose’s breath.”

The girl make a face at him, and Heather laughed.

“I think I lost my comb,” Nick said.

“Better buy him two or three,” Flash said. “A young man in love is lost without his combs.”

Rose made an O with her mouth. Heather giggled. Nick’s face turned as red as a ripe tomato. “Jeez, Dad,” he muttered.

Arnold was beaming. “Oh, did I say something wrong?”

“How’s your dandruff shampoo holding out?” Alice asked her husband.

“Fine,” he said. “A little low on the pit-slick, though.”

“May I be excused now?” Nick asked. “I want to air out the sleeping bags.”

“Just throw them over the line,” Arnold said.

Nick left the kitchen. Arnold met Alice’s gaze, and shrugged. “You embarrassed the boy half to death,” she said.

“Is he really in love?” Heather whispered.

“Your father was just being his usual obnoxious self.”

Arnold chuckled.

“I bet he is,” Rose said.

“Regardless,” Alice warned. “It’s nothing to poke fun at. Being in love is a very serious matter.”

“Especially when you’re seventeen,” Arnold added.

“Come on, Rose, help me clear the table. I want to beat the crowds to the supermarket.”

Benny held a plate under the kitchen faucet, and watched the steaming water melt away the clumps of sugar left over from the cinnamon rolls. When the plate looked clean, he handed it to Tanya. She put it into the dishwasher, and he grabbed another plate. “Do you think they’d let a kid use the library?” he asked.

“What library?” his cousin asked.

“At the college.”

“What is it you’re looking for? Maybe I could find it for you.”

“Just some stuff.”

Tanya set two coffee mugs upside down in the machine, and stared at him. She raised a dark eyebrow. “Occult stuff?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Witches and things.”

“Did you try your bedroom?”

“Yeah, last night. I haven’t got that much, though. Nothing with the details. And the public library stinks.”

“They probably don’t want to corrupt the youth.”

“Anyway, what I was thinking was that maybe I could go along with you and take a look around while you’re in class.”

“For two and a half hours? Aren’t you afraid you’ll get bored?”

“I never get bored. Dad says boredom’s a sign of a weak mind.”

Tanya grinned, brushed a lock of hair away from her forehead, and took the plate from Benny. “Well, you’re welcome to come along, if that’s what you want. But you’d better check with your dad first. He might have some chores for you. Go on ahead. I’ll finish with the dishes.”

“Thanks,” he said, and hurried outside. His father, in his faded blue swimming trunks, was down on one knee beside the pool, checking the thermometer. “Hey, is it okay if I go over to the college with Tanya? It’s all right with her if it’s all right with you.”

“Fine with me. What’s up?”

“Nothing. I just want to fool around in the library.”

Dad’s mouth curved in a half smile. “The only known copies of the
Necronomicon
are said to reside in the Miskatonic University library and—”

Benny laughed. “You know about that?”

“You’d be surprised what your old dad knows. I ain’t completely illiterate, boy. Anyway, go ahead if you want. Be warned, though. Karen’ll be showing up in an hour or so.”

Benny’s eagerness faded. He didn’t want to miss Karen. On the other hand, this was too important to delay. Maybe he wouldn’t find anything helpful in the college library, but he had to give it a try. “Well,” he said, “I’d better go anyway. We’ll be back around one.”

“Karen should still be here. She’s staying for supper, I imagine. Good hunting.”