Authors: Richard Laymon
Karen tried to pick out the easiest route. Her beam probed the darkness ahead, swept the slope to her left. She felt very vulnerable without the gun.
By losing it, she’d put everyone in terrible danger. Nobody had criticized her and she tried not to blame herself, but damn it, she’d thrown away their main defense, the only weapon they had that could reach out and knock someone down at a safe distance. The pocketknife in her jeans was little comfort. The two big knives were belted around Benny’s arm. Nick still had a sheath knife at his side, and Julie had the hatchet. A pitiful collection of weapons. Christ, why didn’t I hang onto the gun!
Rounding the end of the lake, she came upon the feeder stream from Upper Mesquite. Her light shimmered on its rushing surface, followed the water upward to the low ridge, swept back and forth over both rocky shores. She saw rocks and lurching shadows and flowing water. Nothing more. She crouched. She cupped some cold, fresh water to her mouth. Then she jumped to the other side, and held her light on the stream.
Nick and Benny waded across, the water swirling over their boots, soaking their pants legs almost to the knees.
Julie leaped over the stream. “Now you two’ll come down with pneumonia.”
Nick made a sound resembling a laugh. “Better than
old
-monia.”
Karen crossed the slope, heading downward, closer to the lake. And then her boot pressed springy earth, not rock. It felt like a cushion. It felt wonderful. The layer of pine needles made soft crunching sounds as she walked.
She took a twisting route to avoid trees and clumps of
rock. Then she saw the clearing just ahead. She spotted the fireplace, the stumps and rocks surrounding it like stools, the pile of wood. She was swept by a feeling of pleasure and relief, as if returning home after a long trip.
She staggered forward. She lowered herself onto the flat surface of a stump, stretched out her pulsing legs, and sighed.
“What the shit!” Nick blurted. “Where’d our packs go?” Karen shined her flashlight into the darkness. The packs were gone.
Benny felt useless. He sat on a rock shivering, his arm throbbing with pain, while Nick and Julie searched for the backpacks. Karen sat on a stump close to him. She held an open pocketknife. “You can help them look if you want,” he said.
“That’s okay.”
“You don’t have to stay and guard me.”
She smiled slightly. “Sure I do.”
“Boy, I really messed things up.”
“No you didn’t. It could’ve happened to any of us.” She wrapped her arms around herself.
“Are you cold?” Benny asked.
“I’m one giant goose bump.”
“Do you want my parka?”
“No, thanks. It wouldn’t fit anyway.”
“You could put it over your back.”
“No. You keep it. Really. You need it more than me. Didn’t you know that women have an extra layer of fat?”
“Not you.”
She laughed. “It’s gonna be a rough night if they don’t find the packs. We’ll freeze our buns.”
“And starve. Like the Donner party.”
“Hardly like the Donner party. We can hike out of here in a day if we have to. We’ve done it before.”
“We can’t leave without…We’ve gotta kill the witch first.”
“At least we know she’s here,” Karen said. “She has to
be the one who took our packs. That’s something anyway.”
“I knew she would be. She brought us here.”
“What?”
“She brought us here. With her magic.”
“That’s a pleasant thought. What makes you think so?”
“We’re here, aren’t we?”
“We chose to come.”
“Why didn’t we have a wreck on the way up? We didn’t even have a close call.”
“Nick was driving. As your dad said, he’s the Great Uncursed One.”
“Nothing’s happened to any of us since Thursday. Nothing happened till we got here. She wanted us here.”
“So she could get Nick?”
“And us. When we’re out of the way, she’ll go ahead and finish off Dad and Heather and Rose and Mrs. Gordon. She can finish them with the curse.”
“We won’t let her. Unless we freeze to death.”
“Maybe we should make a fire.”
“With what?”
“I’ve got matches,” Benny told her.
“
You do
?”
“Sure.” With his left hand, he fumbled open the button of a shirt-pocket flap.
“Oh, you’re a life saver. I wish you’d mentioned that five minutes ago.”
“It’ll mess up our night vision,” he said, taking out a book of matches.
“Who cares?” She stood and held out a shaky hand. Benny gave her the matches. She rushed toward the trees. Crouching, she gathered pine needles. As she returned, Benny swiveled around to face the fireplace. He remembered building it, collecting the rocks by himself and stacking them to form a low, circular wall, the afternoon they arrived at the lake and everyone was mad at him because it was his fault they had to stay here.
Karen, on her knees, tore off the matchbook cover. She tucked it into a small pile of pine needles, and carefully stacked kindling on top.
“It’s all my fault,” he said.
She looked over her shoulder at him. “What is?”
“Everything. If I hadn’t tripped on Heather and hurt her foot, we would’ve gone to Wilson Lake and none of this stuff would’ve happened.”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s true.”
“You sound just like your dad, you know that? Blaming yourselves. It must run in the family.”
“But it’s true.”
“Save the blame for that bitch and her son. We’re just victims, Benny. We happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. A million things could’ve changed that. And we would’ve been just fine, camping here, if that sick maniac hadn’t decided to rape me.”
“He…he
raped
you?”
Karen hesitated. Then she said, “Yes.”
Benny felt as if he’d been punched hard in the stomach. He hunched over. The movement sent pain pounding through his arm. He started to cry.
Karen stood up. She stepped close to him and pressed his head gently against her. The sweatshirt was soft. It smelled good. He rubbed his face against it, feeling her belly through the material. It was the sweatshirt she’d worn last night in her sleeping bag when she held him and she was so warm and he could feel her breasts against him and worried so badly that she might notice his hard-on. Then she’d whispered, “Don’t worry about it,” and he’d wanted to die with shame. But just for a minute. After that, it had been fine and peaceful. “Are you gonna marry Dad?” he’d asked.
“Maybe.”
“I hope so.”
“Why?”
“Because I love you.”
“I love you, too, Benny.”
He’d snuggled against her. He’d never felt so good before in all his life. Thinking about it eased the hurt.
“You okay?” she asked, stroking his hair.
“I…I feel so bad he did that to you.”
“He’s dead.”
“I wish I’d killed him.”
“No you don’t.”
“Oh yes I do.”
She backed away. Crouching, she kissed him lightly on the mouth. “Let’s get this fire going before we freeze.” Turning around, she struck a match and lit the piece of cardboard. Flames curled up. The pine needles smoked and crackled and caught fire, igniting the twigs. Karen added bigger sticks from the nearby pile. The blaze grew high, dancing and throwing out heat. “
Now
we’re cooking,” she said.
Nick and Julie came up from behind. They huddled close to the fire.
“No luck?” Karen asked.
“We think she might’ve thrown them in the lake,” Julie said.
“If she did,” Nick said, “they’d have to be close to shore. We shouldn’t have much trouble finding them.”
“We’re gonna take a look,” Julie added. She was bent over the fire, the flashlight clamped between her knees, rubbing her hands together as if washing them in the flames.
“Where’d you find the matches?” Nick asked.
“They’re Benny’s,” Karen said.
“Good going, Ben.”
“Yeah.” Julie smiled at him. “You’re not a complete waste.”
He smiled back at her. “No kidding.”
Nick stepped away from the fire. “Okay, we’ll take a look at the lake.”
“Want to go with them?” Karen asked Benny.
“Yeah.”
“It’s better that way,” she told the other two. “It’s better if we stay together.”
Benny stood up, wincing as the movement hurt his arm. The rest of his body felt stiff and sore, but he was glad to be included. Karen stayed close to his side as they headed for the lake.
Nick and Julie had the only working flashlights. They walked slowly along the shoreline, sweeping their beams over the water. The lights bent off to new angles where they penetrated. Through shallow water murky with swirling specks, Benny could see the bottom. The rocks down there were mossy. Patches of seaweed swayed with the currents. Farther out, the beams couldn’t reach the bottom. They stopped a couple of feet below the surface, as if too weak to drive deeper into the gloom.
“Well,” Nick said, “I still think they’re out there. I’m going in.”
“No, that’s crazy,” Julie said.
“Let’s wait till morning,” Karen suggested. “Even if you find them, the sleeping bags’ll be soaking.”
“Most of the food should be okay,” Nick said. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starved.”
“Nick, you’ll freeze.”
“We’ve got a good fire.” They followed him to the place where they’d left the packs. “If she threw them in, she probably took them straight over from here.” He sat on the ground, put down the hatchet, and started to untie his boots.
Julie sat down beside him. “If you’re going in, so am I.”
“There’s no point in both of us getting wet.”
“I don’t care.”
“Julie.” His voice was firm. “I mean it. You wait here.”
She looked at him. Her mouth opened. Then it shut. Her shoulders slumped a bit. “Okay,” she muttered. “If you don’t want me to.”
With his boots and socks off, he stood up and took off his flannel shirt. He lowered his jeans and stepped out of them. He left his jockey shorts on, and walked stiffly to the edge of the lake. He rubbed his arms. “Well,” he said, “here goes.”
He charged forward, feet slapping into the water, splashing it high until he was knee-deep. Then he dived, hitting the surface flat out. Karen and Julie kept flashlights on him as he slid along silently below the waves. After a few seconds, he came up. He swung around, and wiped water off his face.
“You standing up?” Julie asked.
“Yeah.” The waves reached his chest.
“How is it?”
He answered with a groan of pain. Then he started walking.
Julie’s light stayed on him. Karen aimed hers at the water just ahead of him. They walked slowly along the shore, keeping to his pace.
He stopped. His shoulders wobbled slightly. “What do you know!” he said. Then he ducked below the surface. His back was visible for a moment, pale in the flashlight beams, rippling and quivering. Then it sank out of sight. Benny stared at the murky water. He counted silently to ten, and then Nick burst to the surface holding a gray bundle in front of him. He raised it from the water. It was Karen’s pack. “They’re all right here,” he said.
“Fantastic,” Julie called.
He lifted the pack overhead, and took a step forward, and just behind him the water seemed to explode. His eyes bulged. His mouth sprang open. The pack fell from his hands. It pounded down on his head, driving him under the surface.
The flashlights clattered to the rocks. Karen and Julie, side by side, dashed into the lake. One flashlight was out. Benny snatched up the other. He saw Karen dive. She swam out fast, vanished under the surface, and came up pulling Nick by his arm. Julie splashed to his other side, grabbed his other arm. Nick’s head came out of the water. They pulled him along between them. He was conscious. He was choking. When they reached shallow water, Benny saw that his legs were working.
“What happened?” Benny asked.
Nobody answered. Supporting Nick, the two women walked him onto dry land and lowered him to his knees. They eased him down flat.
The shiny red handle of a pocketknife jutted from his back.
“Oh, my God,” Julie muttered. “Oh, my God.” She tugged the knife. Nick went rigid and cried out, but the blade, embedded a few inches below his right shoulder, wouldn’t come out. She pulled harder. The handle slipped from her wet grip.
“I’ll try,” Karen said.
“It must be in the bone,” Julie said. “It’s awfully deep.”
“Keep an eye on the lake, Benny.” Karen rubbed her right hand on her sweatshirt and clutched the knife. She pressed her left hand against Nick’s bloody back.
“Aaaah!” He shuddered and dug his fingers into the earth as she yanked on the knife. She worked it back and forth and jerked it free. Nick’s muscles unclenched. He lowered his face to the ground. He was gasping and sobbing.
“Let’s get over to the fire,” Karen said.
He pushed himself to his hands and knees. Julie and Karen, gripping his arms, lifted him. He staggered between them as if his legs were too weak to support his weight.
When they reached the fire, they sat him down on a stump with his back to the blaze. Julie plucked at the knot of the wet bandanna around her neck. She loosened it, took off the kerchief, and squeezed out the water. Gently, she patted the wound. The gash was less than an inch in length. It bled freely, but the blood wasn’t pumping out.
Karen said, “It doesn’t look too bad.”
“It doesn’t feel too good,” Nick said. His voice sounded tight and shaky.
Julie folded the bandanna into a thick pad and pressed it firmly against the wound. Nick flinched.
“I’ll get his clothes,” Karen said. She hurried away. Benny went with her.
Holding the pad in place, Julie leaned close to him. She pressed her face against his wet hair, kissed the top of his head. Her free hand reached down and rubbed his chest. He was trembling badly.
“I guess I lucked out,” he said.
“Real luck,” Julie muttered.
“She couldn’t get the knife out. She blew it.”
“Sure.”
“This time,” he added.
Karen returned, holding Nick’s clothes bundled in her arms. Benny had the hatchet.
“You did luck out,” Julie said. “You’ve got dry clothes.”
“We’ve gotta rig something to keep the bandage tight,” Karen said. “Won’t be easy. It’s in a bad place.” She tugged Nick’s belt from its loops. “You’ll have to keep your arm down.” She wrapped the belt around his upper back. Julie pressed it to the bandanna while Karen slipped one end under his left armpit. She pulled the other end over his right arm just below his shoulder, and buckled it tightly at his chest. “How’s that?”
“It’s okay if I don’t lift my arm.”
“Don’t lift your arm.”
“Okay. Unless I have to.”
“I’ll get him dressed,” Julie said.
“Fine.” Karen and Benny stepped away.
Karen sat on a rock so close to the fire that steam curled off the wet legs of her jeans. The heat felt very good, but it only warmed her front. The back of her sweatshirt and pants were frigid against her skin.
Benny, on the other side of the fire, stared at her through the flashing lenses of his glasses.
“Keep a sharp eye out,” she told him. “We don’t want anyone sneaking up.”
Nodding, he swung his legs sideways and stared toward the lake.
Karen stood up. She turned away from the fire, and peeled off her sweatshirt. She sighed as the warmth soothed her back. Scanning the darkness beyond the fire’s glow, she wrung water from her sweatshirt. When she finished, she glanced over her shoulder at Benny. He was watching her. He quickly looked away, and she turned around. She held her sweatshirt over the flames. Steam rolled off it like smoke and was whipped away by the breeze.
Nick, to her left, had his flannel shirt draped over his back. One arm was in its sleeve. He stood up. Julie, crouching in front of him, pulled down his jockey shorts. He held onto her shoulder to steady himself while she pulled the shorts off his feet and helped him into his jeans.
Karen turned her eyes to Benny. He was staring at her. “No fair peeking,” she warned, and he looked away.
The sweatshirt was still damp when she put it on, but at least it felt warm. For the moment. Sitting on the rock, she took off her boots and socks. She opened her jeans, and drew them down along with her panties.
Julie was putting socks on Nick.
The rock felt cold and gritty under Karen’s buttocks, but she stayed seated as she wrung out her panties. She held them close to the fire while Benny continued to scan the shoreline and Julie finished with Nick’s socks and boots. Then Karen stood, brushed some grit off her rump, and stepped into her panties. They felt warm and dry.
She turned around to heat up her back, and did her best to twist the water out of her jeans. The stiff material was difficult to work with. Finally, she gave up. She faced the fire and held them over the flames.
Nick swung around toward the fire. With his right arm inside the shirt, Julie hadn’t been able to button it.
“How you doing?” Karen asked him.
“A little better. Kind of sick.”
Benny looked over his shoulder. Karen nodded to him, and he brought his legs around. He leaned close to the fire.
“Guess she’s trying to whittle us down,” Nick said.
“Apt phrase, that,” Karen told him.
“I think she’s planning to freeze us to death,” Julie said. She stepped to the fire. Karen could see her shaking. “What the hell,” she said. “Since I’m freezing anyway, I might as well go ahead and get the packs.”
Nick gaped at her.
“Why not? I’m already soaked.”
“Let’s just leave them till morning,” Karen said.
“We don’t even know for sure our sleeping bags are wet. They’re in stuff bags. They might be fairly dry. Besides, there’s the food, the first-aid kit. Especially the first-aid kit. It’s got disinfectant. We can put a real bandage on you, Nick. It’d sure be better than keeping you all strapped up.”
“You can’t do it,” he said.
“We know right where the packs are.”
“What if
she’s
there?” Benny said.
“You think she’s gonna stay in the lake all night, just hoping we’ll go back in?”
“Maybe she knows. Maybe she’s
willing
you.”
“Don’t be a dork.”
Karen sighed. “It’s not a smart idea, Julie. She could be waiting.”
“If she is, she hasn’t got a knife.”
“We don’t know that for sure,” Nick said.
“If she had another one, she would’ve used it on you.”
“You don’t need a knife to kill someone,” Karen said.
“Killing can go both ways,” Julie said. She stepped over to Nick and lifted the sheath knife from his lap. He clutched her wrist.
“You can’t,” he said.
“We need those packs. Don’t tell me no, or I’d just have to go against you.”
“Julie.”
She leaned closer and kissed his mouth. Then she whispered to him. He whispered back, and released her wrist. “Keep the fire hot for me,” she said. “I’ll need it.”
She moved closer to the flames. She pulled off her belt and slid the sheath onto it. Sitting on a rock beside Benny, she took off her boots and socks. She stripped down to her bra and panties. “You want to heat these up for me?” she asked, offering the wet clothes to Karen.
“I’m going with you.”
“You don’t have to.”
Karen smiled. “Sure I do.”
“We’ll all go,” Nick said.
“You and Benny aren’t wet.”
“We can stay on shore. At least we’ll be close by in case something happens.”
Julie nodded. She strapped the belt around her waist, and slid the knife to her hip. While Nick and Benny got to their feet, she arranged her clothing on rocks near the fire.
Karen spread her jeans over the rock where she’d been sitting.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” Julie said.
Julie cringed as she stepped into the water. Earlier, when she’d rushed in to help Nick, she’d been so overwhelmed by the urgency of getting to him that she’d hardly noticed the cold. Now, her whole body trembled as she waded deeper.
“Dive under fast,” Nick suggested.
“Easy for you to say,” she called back.
Karen, just ahead of her and thigh-deep, was pulling up the bottom of her sweatshirt to keep it out of the water. She turned to face Julie. Her small pocketknife was clamped between her teeth. She took it out. “This good?” she asked. Her voice was pitched higher than usual.
“Fine.”
“It’ll be quicker if we both dive for ’em.”
“We’d just get tangled.” Julie moved past Karen. She took
a sharp breath when the frigid water lapped her groin. With another step, she was covered to the waist. She sucked in her belly as if to draw it away from the painful touch. “
God
,” she gasped. She turned around. “I’ll pass you three. Take the last one myself.”
“Right,” Karen said.
“Then we’ll get our asses over to the fire.”
“I’m for that.”
“Here goes!” she called to the others.
Nick, standing at the edge of the lake, waved his hatchet overhead. Benny, beside him, shined the flashlight in her eyes. The glare hurt. She flinched away from it and muttered, “Thanks a lot.”
Then she waded out farther. The icy water soaked through her bra, washed over her shoulders. She turned to the right, and began searching. The water buoyed her up so her feet hardly touched the slippery rocks. She took long, slow steps, stroking the water with her arms to propel herself forward.
Then she toed something that wasn’t rock. She explored it with her foot. It was a backpack. “Got one,” she said.
Karen, waiting a couple of yards away in water up to her waist, nodded and clamped the knife between her teeth. Julie took a deep breath. Then she dived. She kept her eyes open, but saw only black as she clutched the sides of the pack, planted her feet on the slick rocks, and lifted. The pack felt nearly weightless.
She surfaced, and filled her lungs with air. Hugging the pack, she took a few slow-motion strides toward Karen. The woman reached out, took it from her, turned away, and started wading for shore.
Julie swung around. She swam a few strokes. Lowering her legs, she searched with her feet. As they swept over the rocks, she glanced to the side. Karen was ashore, bending down, lowering the pack.
Her toes caught a strap. She plunged and gripped it with
her right hand. It felt like leather. Must be Karen’s Bergen. She pulled against it, and felt the pack start to rise as she brought her legs down toward the bottom.
Someone kicked her. The toenails raked her thigh. Ow! What’s Karen doing
under
me?
It’s not Karen!
A hand clawed her behind the shoulders, pulling her down. Another dug into her back. They held her tight against a bare, twisting body while legs hooked around her. Teeth ripped at her shoulder. Jerking with pain, she grasped long ropes of hair and tugged. The teeth held. They clamped harder. Her shoulder burned with agony. She wanted to cry out, but kept her lips clenched. The teeth released her. She tried to keep the head back, but it darted in, hair sliding through her fingers, and the teeth snapped shut on her collarbone.
She remembered Karen’s warning.
You don’t need a knife to kill someone
.
Just teeth. Rip out the jugular.
Knife.
The teeth let go.
Now for the throat.
She bent her head sideways and thrust her shoulder toward her ear. The teeth nipped her cheek, tried to get under her jaw. Then a spasm shook the woman as Julie rammed the six-inch blade into her back. Her fingernails pierced Julie’s skin. She bucked and squirmed. Julie yanked the knife out and drove it in. She shoved a hand against the woman’s face, pushed her away, and thrust the blade into her belly. Feet on the lake bottom, she clutched the knife with both hands and forced it upward.
Benny shined his flashlight on the water where Julie had gone under. The surface looked more turbulent there. She’d been down for a long time. Longer than it should take to lift up a pack.
Nick was watching, though. He didn’t seem worried.
Karen was wading out quickly, but not as if she thought anything was wrong.
Then a head broke the surface. The beam of Benny’s light reached to a face that sent a shock through him. The eyes were rolled up so that only the whites showed. The mouth was wide open, lips peeled back in a grimace. Blood spilled down the chin.
A scream filled Benny’s throat. She was rising as if about to soar from the lake. Her shoulders burst from the surface. Her arms flapped wildly. Her bare breasts shook.
Then a pair of hands came up, clutching her belly. No, not exactly. But she wasn’t about to fly, she was being lifted by those hands and then a head appeared below her.
It had to be Julie.
For just a moment, the woman—the witch—was above Julie’s head, out of the water entirely, her naked body writhing and beating the air. Julie bent as she swung the body over her. It hit the water headfirst and threw up a frothy shower.