Dark Mountain (20 page)

In the lobby again, he looked for Julie. He didn’t see her. Apparently, she was still in the restroom. He waited. Slowly, the line at the refreshment stand dwindled. An usher in a red blazer shut the doors to the auditorium, signaling the start of the second feature.

Nick paced. He stared at the restroom door.

It finally opened, but the girl who came out wasn’t Julie.

What was taking her so long?

Had something gone wrong?

The girl behind the refreshment counter was pumping butter flavoring onto a tub of popcorn for the last customer. Maybe, when she finished, Nick would ask her to check on Julie. That could turn out embarrassing.

He’d give Julie a couple more minutes.

He gazed at the second hand of the wall clock behind the counter. It moved quickly, sweeping past the numbers. He watched it make three circuits of the face. Still, he hesitated to interfere.

The restroom door stayed shut.

Come on, Julie! What’s wrong?

“Can I turn it up?” Rose asked.

“
May
I durn’d up,” Alice corrected, her speech thick from too much wine.

“Go ahead,” Flash said. He could hardly hear himself think, much less hear the television. The helicopter was making another pass low over the house. It had been circling the neighborhood for the past ten minutes, the whapping noise of its rotors deafening at times, then receding, then growing to a roar as it came back.

He watched Rose crawl to the television, reach up with her bandaged arm, and turn up the volume. She crawled backward to the place where she’d been sitting on the carpet. She crossed her legs.

Alice stared at the ceiling. She looked as if she might cry. “Why dudn’ he go ’way,” she said.

“Must be looking for a prowler. This time, at least, it’s not three o’clock in the morning.” That’s when the police helicopter usually put in its appearance—seemed like once a month—waking them up, circling for half an hour, sometimes as long as an hour, hovering low over the houses, its searchlight sweeping the lawns and streets. It was a nuisance. A little frightening, too. It reminded him of ’Nam, and it wasn’t used for routine patrols. Its presence meant that a suspect was out there. Somewhere close. You always wondered who he was, what he’d done, where he might be lurking.

Alice, beside him on the couch, leaned forward and
reached out with her left hand. Her fingertips bumped the wineglass, knocked it over. Chablis sloshed out onto the table.

Heather, in a rocking chair across the room, looked up from her book and frowned.

Alice saw her. “
You
try’n use yer lef’ han’,” she blurted. Her face was puckered and red.

Flash rubbed the back of Alice’s neck. The tense muscles felt like iron. “It’s okay, honey. We all have little accidents. I’ll clean it up.”

She nodded. Her lips were pressed together. She stared down at her right arm, wrapped in a cast from fingertips to shoulder, held against her chest by a sling. Her mouth started to tremble.

“I’ll get you some more wine, too,” Flash said as he pushed himself off the couch.

Heather put down her book. She followed him to the kitchen and leaned against the stove, watching him take a fresh bottle of wine and a can of Budweiser from the refrigerator. Her pale eyebrows were drawn together.

“Don’t let your face freeze that way,” Flash said.

“She’s bombed,” Heather said.

“Don’t say that.”

“Well, she is.”

“So what,” he snapped.

Heather flinched and blinked. She looked as if she might start bawling.

“I’m sorry,” Flash said. “It’s all this damn
noise
.”

“You shouldn’t let her drink so much.”

“If she wants to get plastered out of her skull to night, that’s fine by me. Normally, I’d…” He realized he didn’t need to talk so loudly; the roar of the chopper had faded a bit. “Normally, I’d be right with you, honey. It’s not good to drink too much. But your mother went through a terrifying experience this morning. She and Rose both.”

“Rose isn’t getting bombed.”

“She can if she wants.”

Heather looked as if she thought her father had gone crazy.

“Why don’t you wipe off the coffee table for me?”

With a shrug of her delicate shoulders, she limped over to the counter. She tore a yard of paper towels off the roll.

“How’s the ankle?”

“It hurts some.” She grinned. “Can I get bombed?”

“Do you want to?”

“No,” she said. She arched an eyebrow. “I’ll keep my wits about me, thank you.” Then she hobbled out of the kitchen, the towels fluttering behind her like a streamer.

Flash uncorked the wine bottle. He popped the tab of his beer can. As he carried them into the living room, the telephone rang, adding its clamor to the noise of the approaching helicopter.

“The phone,” Alice said.

“I’ll get it,” he told her. It rang two mores times as he filled her glass.

“Might be Nick,” she said, a look of fear in her eyes.

Taking the beer with him, he rushed back into the kitchen and snatched up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Hi, Flash, it’s Scott.”

“Anything wrong?”

“The kids are…” The roar of the helicopter drowned him out.

“What was that? We’ve got one of those fucking cop choppers raising Cain.”

“I was just saying the kids are off to the movies. How’re Alice and Rose doing?”

“Aaah. Who knows? Okay, I guess. Nick fill you in?”

“Yeah. He said the operation went fine.”

“She’ll be in a cast for a while. They don’t think there’ll be any permanent damage, but they aren’t making any promises. You know doctors.”

“I sure hope it turns out all right. Look, one reason I called, I was wondering if you’d like to bring the bunch over tomorrow. Nick thought it sounded like a pretty good idea.”

“I bet he did,” Flash said. Chuckling, he took a swig of beer. “Those two sure hit it off, huh?”

“I’d say so.”

“Well, sounds real good to me. I’ll have to check with the general, but if I don’t call back, you can expect us. Around what time?”

“If you want to make a day of it, drop in around ten or eleven. Bring your suits.”

“Want us to bring anything else?”

“Just your thirsts and appetites.”

“Real fine, Scott.”

“Have you heard anything from the cops?”

“Their fucking chopper.” He realized that the noise was fading a bit.

“About the situation.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean.” He swallowed some more beer. “I got a call a couple hours ago. Some deputies and a ranger went in on horses. Couldn’t find the body or the woman. They brought out our tents, though. Said we can pick ’em up at the Black Butte ranger station if we’re so inclined.”

“I’m not.”

“Me neither. Not just yet. But anyway, everything’s just up in the air, since they didn’t get the body. Won’t be an inquest or anything.”

“Nick seems to be holding up pretty well.”

“I guess we can thank your daughter for that. How’s Karen getting along?”

“She’s here now. She’s doing pretty well. But that’s another thing I wanted to talk to you about. She had an accident last night.” Flash listened, his concern for Karen turning to uneasy confusion when Scott told of the attack on Benny at the library, and Julie’s leg cramps in the pool.

“Add in that dog attack on Alice and Rose,” he continued, “and we’ve got four incidents in the past twenty-four hours.”

“What do you make of it?” Flash asked.

“I honestly don’t know what to think. If it was just Karen falling in the tub and Julie’s problem in the pool, I wouldn’t be too concerned. I’d say it was just bad luck. But the dog attack…”

“Alice insists the thing was dead when it went for ’em.”

“Yeah, Nick mentioned that. And I haven’t been able to figure out any logical explanation for what happened to Benny. Both those situations have me pretty worried. You can’t just put them down as bad luck. They were actual assaults.”

Flash frowned at the wall. He took a sip of beer.

“Every one of those incidents could’ve turned out fatal. I’d say we’ve been damn lucky so far.”

“You thinking it’s that old bag’s hex?”

“That seems to be the consensus around here. I hate to go along with it, but I’m starting to wonder.”

“What’re we gonna do?”

“One thing about it—we’re certainly not powerless. In each case, some quick action has saved the day. All I can suggest, for now, is that we keep on our toes and watch out.”

“I guess your kid was right, huh? Benny. We should’ve grabbed that bitch when we had the chance.”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I’m not convinced she has anything to do with all this. If she is behind it, though—I mean, if it’s really a curse—apparently you and Nick might be in the clear.”

“’Cause she didn’t cut us?”

“Right.”

The chopper was returning. Flash set his beer can on the floor.

“She seemed to think she needed blood and hair from her victims to make it work. As far as we know, she didn’t get to you or Nick.”

“As far as we know?” Flash asked. He pushed a forefinger into his left ear to muffle the outside noise.

“Well, I’ve been talking to Benny about this. He thinks you two are probably all right, unless she got something we
don’t know about. Apparently, it doesn’t have to be blood or hair. A piece of your clothing will do. Fingernail parings. Benny was a little embarrassed to mention it, but if she dug around after we left and came up with some feces…”

Flash grimaced. “A guy can’t even take a crap.”

“Did you?”

“As a matter of fact, no. I didn’t cut my toenails, either. Does that mean I’m safe?”

“Could be. Assuming we are dealing with a curse. We can’t be completely certain in any case. Who the hell knows? None of us are exactly experts on…”

In spite of the finger plugging his ear, he couldn’t hear Scott’s words. The din of the helicopter was too great. “I can’t hear you,” Flash said. “It’s no use. Thanks for calling. And the invitation. See you tomorrow, huh? So long.” He hung up.

The air around him, the house itself, seemed to be shaking. What’s that asshole up to? Trying to land on the goddamn roof? He took a step away from the wall, and kicked over his beer can. “Shit!”

“Y
OU
B
EHIND THE TREE
,” a voice boomed. “T
HROW YOUR WEAPON TO THE GROUND AND STEP INTO THE LIGHT WITH YOUR HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEAD
.”

Flash charged into the living room. Alice was pushing herself off the couch, her good arm stretched toward Rose, who was rushing for the front door. “Stop!” he shouted at the girl.

“I
REPEAT, THROW YOUR WEAPON TO THE GROUND AND
…”

Flash caught Rose by the shoulder as she reached for the doorknob. He yanked her back. “When I tell you to stop—”

The boom of a gunshot broke through the noise.

Flash threw open the door.

“No!” Alice cried.

He lunged outside and stopped on the lawn. As he’d thought, the copter was hovering low over the house. The white beam of its searchlight was fixed on the trunk of an elm near the street. Behind the elm crouched a man with a
revolver. The gun was aimed high. It jumped, blasting another shot at the chopper.

A patrol car, siren blaring, lights spinning red and blue, hurled around the corner at the end of the block.

The man fired again. Flash heard the slug smack into metal.

“You bastard!” he cried out as he raced at the man. The rotor blades threw a hot wind down on him.

In ’Nam, he’d felt the same hot wind as an army gunship descended to pick him up. It meant safety. Survival. In seconds, if a VC bullet didn’t chop him down, he’d be airborne after six days of hiding, dodging enemy patrols. No bullets found him, that morning, but a rocket found the gunship as it hovered closer, and it tumbled in flames, shaking the jungle floor as it hit.

If that fucker falls on the house…

But the gun wasn’t aimed at the chopper anymore. It was lowering toward Flash as he ran at the man, as the patrol car skidded to a stop, as the chopper soared over him, no longer threatening the house. It’s all right now, he thought. And heard a gunshot.

Nick, pacing the theater lobby, looked jumpy. He seemed to sag, as if worn out, when Julie approached him. His eyes stayed on her face, and she didn’t think he’d noticed, yet, what she’d done.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I was just…You were in there so long.”

“Sorry about that.” She took his hand. “Did I worry you?”

“I was starting to wonder if…” He shrugged.

“Nothing happened,” she said. They crossed the lobby and left the theater. “I’m sorry if you were worried. There was only one stall with a door on it. Seemed like everybody was waiting for that one. Me included.”

“Oh. Well. I’m just glad nothing went wrong.”

In spite of the night’s warmth, Julie was trembling as they strolled along the sidewalk. She felt excited and daring.

“Where do you want to go?” Nick asked when they reached the car. He sounded very nervous. “Do you want a sundae or something?”

“Why don’t we just drive around for a while?”

“Sure. Okay.”

He started the car and drove out of the parking lot. Julie wished she could scoot over and snuggle against him, but the bucket seats would make it awkward. Deciding to wait, she fastened her safety belt. The pressure of the harness across her breast sent a pleasant tingle through her.

“Anyplace, special?” Nick asked.

“No. I’ll know it when I see it. Why don’t you make a left up here?”

He turned, leaving behind the traffic of Ventura Boulevard. Except for occasional streetlamps, the road was dark. Lights shone in the windows of houses, but Julie saw nobody wandering about. Dark, empty cars sat in driveways and lined the curbs. At a Y in the road, Julie suggested they go left. The road narrowed as it climbed into the hills. There were fewer streetlights, fewer houses. As headlights appeared on the curve ahead, Nick swung in behind a parked Toyota to make room. A Mercedes eased by, and he pulled out again. He drove forward, slowing at each bend.

Julie spotted a steep lane to the left. “Why don’t we try that one?”

“It’s not a through street,” Nick told her.

She nodded as she read the sign. “That’s okay.”

“Hope you don’t get us lost.”

“All we’ve gotta do is point the car downhill.”

“You’re the navigator.” He turned, and started up the grade. There were no streetlights. They passed a few driveways on the right, apparently leading to houses nestled unseen on the wooded slopes above the road. To the left, beyond the guardrails, the hillside dropped away. The lights of scattered houses were visible across the ravine.

“This is nice,” Julie said. “Why don’t you park along here someplace so we can enjoy the view?”

“Okay,” he said in a whisper she could barely hear. A few moments later, he eased the car to the right. The right-side tires crunched over the ground. The branches of a bush on the slope scratched against Julie’s window. Nick killed the headlights. He turned off the engine, and a heavy silence filled the car. He stared out the window. “Not much of a view from here,” he whispered.

“This is fine,” Julie said. Her mouth was dry.

Nick took off his safety harness. He glanced at the side mirror, the rearview mirror.

“Anyone coming?”

He shook his head. “I wonder if we’re off the road far enough.”

“I think it’s all right.” She opened her seat belt and pushed it out of the way. “Besides, there’s not a whole lot of traffic.”

“Pretty isolated up here, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Dark, too.” With a smile, she asked, “You scared?”

“Nah. Are you? We can go someplace else if you want.”

“This is just fine,” Julie said.

Nick turned in his seat. Though light from the half-moon spilled in through the windshield, shadows hid his face. His eyes were patches of darkness, but Julie felt his gaze like a warm caress. She saw him lick his lips. He wiped his hands on his slacks. Then he reached out with one hand and gently stroked her cheek. Turning her head, she kissed his palm. The hand lingered for a moment, then curled around the back of her neck and urged her closer.

She wrapped her arms around Nick. She kissed him. He caressed her face, her hair, her shoulders.

He was too far away from her. They were both turned sideways on the bucket seats, twisted awkwardly and leaning in across the gap. She was uncomfortable and frustrated. Finally, she whispered, “I wasn’t made to bend this way.”

“Oh,” Nick let go of her. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“Don’t be silly.” She brushed her lower lip against his mouth. “Let’s get in the backseat.”

“You want to?” Straightening up, he looked up and down the road, as if to make sure the coast was clear. Then he shoved open the door. He muttered, “Damn it,” as the interior light came on. Julie shielded her eyes against its sudden brightness. Then she crawled over the driver’s seat and climbed out after Nick. He thrust forward the seat back. Julie ducked into the car. Nick scooted in beside her and pulled the door shut. As he locked it, Julie snuggled against him, rubbed his chest, kissed the side of his neck.

He cringed. “Hey, that tickles.”

“Does it?” She nibbled his neck, making him squirm. “I
vahnt your blood,” she intoned in her best Bela Lugosi accent. Then she pulled him down across the seat. Kneeling above him, she probed his ribs, his belly. He giggled and writhed, tried to protect himself, and finally dug wiggling fingers into Julie’s armpits. With a squeal, she forced his hands away. She pinned them to the cushion. Then she kissed him. She let go of his hands. They went around her back, caressing.

She was half off the seat, toes on the floor, knees pressed against the cushion’s edge. “I’m coming up,” she whispered. She swung a leg over Nick, pushed with the other, squirmed, and finally found herself on top of him. Her legs were wide apart to make space for his upraised knees. “Am I mashing you?” she asked.

“No.”

For a long time, they kissed. Julie relaxed a little, savoring the closeness, the intimate joining of their mouths, the feel of him under her body, the touch of his hands. His hands roamed over her shoulders and back, rubbing her through the thin fabric of her blouse. He always stopped at the waistband of her skirt. Though her blouse had come untucked, he never felt beneath it.

Straddling him this way, Julie could barely move. She wanted to hold him, stroke him, not merely lie on him and kiss. “Maybe if we sit up,” she finally said. She climbed off Nick.

He sat up straight. Facing him, Julie knelt over his lap and lowered herself. Nick leaned forward slightly. They embraced each other tightly. “This is much better,” Julie whispered.

“Yeah.”

She rubbed his back. He rubbed hers. Heart beating faster, she eased her hands under his shirt. She slid them up his smooth skin. He hesitated for a while, then followed her lead. His hands went under the back of her blouse, and glided up her bare skin. They curved over her shoulders, moved down her sides in a way that made her shiver, then swept in again toward her spine.

Julie leaned away. Nick’s hands dropped to her thighs. They rested there, motionless, while Julie raised his knit shirt. She rubbed his bare chest, thumbs pressing his nipples. He was squirming slightly under her, as if uncomfortable.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Do you know what I did in the john?”

“I have a pretty good idea.”

“What?”

“I think…you took something off.”

“Is that what you think?”

“Yeah.” Nick lifted one hand from her thigh. It was half shut in a loose fist. It moved slowly higher. Julie’s heart felt like a sledgehammer as the curled fingers pressed against her blouse just below her left breast. He brushed the underside of her breast, followed the curve upward. She caught her breath as he found her rigid nipple. The hand opened, and held her. Then his other hand closed around her right breast. “God, Julie,” he whispered.

She clung to his shoulders and arched her back. She quivered as he explored her through the blouse, sliding the fabric over her skin, cupping her, squeezing gently, fingertips tracing her nipples. Finally, he opened the buttons. He spread the front of her blouse. He stared.

“Take a picture,” Julie said. “It lasts longer.”

Laughing softly, Nick pulled her forward. Her naked breasts pushed against his chest. He covered her face with kisses. His hands went under the back of her blouse, moved up and down as if hungry for the feel of her bare skin.

He went over sideways, holding her, guiding her down. Then she was on her back. One leg hung off the seat and the other was stretched out between Nick’s legs. His thigh was a heavy pressure on her groin. She writhed against it, gasping. His chest was on one breast. His hand fondled the other, squeezed it, stroked its swollen nipple. Moaning, squirming with need, Julie thrust Nick’s face away from her. She forced his head lower. He kissed her nipple. He licked it. He took it
into his mouth. He sucked on it, and Julie whimpered. He tried to raise his head, as if worried, but she forced it down and held it there. He sucked hard. It hurt and it sent shocks of pleasure through her body.

Then it wasn’t his thigh against her groin. It was his hand. Outside her skirt, but rubbing. “No,” she gasped. “Nick, no.” It didn’t go away. She thrust herself against it. “No. Stop.” She reached down for it, and clutched his wrist, intending to push his hand away. Instead, she pressed it to her.

His penis was rigid against her thigh. She shoved at his hip. He raised himself slightly and Julie touched him. He felt hard and hot through his pants. And very big. She wondered how it would feel inside her. The thought of that, the way it felt in her hand, the way Nick was massaging and sucking—all of it was too much. Crying out, she bucked and twisted. She clutched Nick. His penis throbbed against her hand and the agony of Julie’s desire broke in a flood of release.

Then they lay beside each other, panting, kissing gently. “I love you so much,” Nick whispered.

“I love you more.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do,” she said. “And I want to stay here forever. I don’t ever want to move.”

“We’ll have to move, sooner or later.”

“What time is it?”

He checked his wristwatch. “About ten till ten.”

“Already?” She sighed. She hugged him tightly. They kissed. They caressed each other. “I feel so peaceful and nice,” she said.

“Me, too.” Nick yawned.

“Am I boring you?”

He laughed, his breath warm on her face.

Julie yawned, too. She snuggled against him. “What if we fall asleep and don’t wake up till midnight?”

“Or morning?”

“What time is it?”

“Ten twenty.”

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes.”

“I don’t want to leave.”

“We’d better. We don’t want your dad to get worried.”

“Yeah, I know.”

They sat up. As Nick straightened his shirt, Julie looked out the windows. Except for patches of moonlight, the street was dark. She saw no one.

Nick turned away from her. The bright ceiling light came on when he opened the door. While he climbed out, Julie took off her blouse. She tossed it onto the front seat.

Nick leaned into the car and stared.

“Something wrong?”

“My God, Julie.”

She scooted across the seat, and climbed out. A warm breeze drifted against her.

“You nuts?” Nick asked.

“Yep.” She raised her arms, and Nick stepped into them. His hands ran up and down her back as he kissed her. Then she eased him away. “We’d better go,” she said.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“But nuts?”

“Yeah.”

With a grin, she turned away. She crawled across the driver’s seat, and sat down. Nick climbed in. He left the door slightly ajar to keep the light on while Julie lifted her purse from the floor. She took her bra out.

“Wait,” Nick said. Leaning toward her, he slid a hand over her breast. His fingers curled around it, holding it firmly. Then he let go.

He continued to gaze at Julie while she put on her bra, fastened it, and slipped into her blouse. As she buttoned it, he tugged his door shut. He started the car. He turned on the headlights. He shifted to first gear, and released the emergency
brake. The car started to roll forward. Its sluggish motion felt strange to Julie. Nick struggled with the steering wheel. Then he turned off the engine.

“What’s wrong?” Julie asked.

“I don’t know.” He got out. He crouched by the front tire, stood up, and stepped around to the other side. He crouched again. Then he stood, and stared through the windshield at Julie.

“Oh, no,” she muttered. A chill, sick feeling spread through her. She scurried across the seat and climbed out of the car.

The front tire was flat.

“This one over here, too,” Nick said. He sounded grim.

“How could it happen?”

He walked slowly toward her, holding out his hand. “Look.”

She peered at the small, dark object resting on his palm. “What is it?”

“Part of a valve stem.”

“I don’t get it,” she muttered.

“Both front tires. Somebody cut off the valve stems.”

“Oh, Jesus! While we were…”

Nick answered with a nod.