The Collected Horrors of Tim Wellman (13 page)

She reached over and smacked the kid's butt with
the back of her hand. "Wake up, victim!"

The little girl rolled over and then jumped up
quickly. "Eggs and bacon!"

"What about a lead pipe upside your head if you
don't shut the fuck up?" Heather said. She stood up, walked across
the small room, and grabbed a cigarette from the top of the
television. "Ya know your phone number?" She pointed with the
cigarette.

"Number?" She rubbed her eyes. "Oh, I remember
now. You're the woman who kidnapped me last night!"

"I ain't a woman, I'm seventeen. And ya better
start answering my questions or you're goin' to remember me beating
the shit out of ya."

"I'm six, you silly bitch. How can I remember a
phone number?" She hopped out of bed and walked around the room,
found a plastic bag, and looked inside. There was no food. "My
number is on my cell phone, but since you forgot to kidnap that,
too, you're screwed." She scanned the teen up and down with a smirk
on her face. "Seventeen, huh? Pretty bold move for a scrawny
teenager. It's usually smelly old men."

Heather bit her lip and narrowed her eyes. "I
ain't been around kids a lot, but ain't you supposed to be all
sweet and shit? Scared out of your little mind 'cause your momma
ain't here to hold ya?"

"Yeah, well, I was like that once, but being
sweet don't get you shit in this world, sister. You should have
learned that by now," the child said. "But, you did kidnap someone
without knowing the phone number to call with the ransom
information, so I'm guessing you're not working with all the lights
on, if you get my drift. I learned, forced people teach me, forced
myself to get smart. It's about survival, sister." She laughed. "Or
mental illness. Not sure."

"Enough!" Heather yelled. "Get back on the
fuckin' bed, smart-ass, and don't move!"

"But, I need to..."

"Now!"

The little girl climbed back onto the bed,
lifted her sleeping gown, and then pulled her panties down and
began peeing.

"What the hell ya doin'?!"

"I was trying to ask, but you seemed very
determined that I should get back on the bed," she said as she
finished and pulled her panties back up and adjusted her gown.
"Oops, I just left a bunch of DNA evidence, didn't I?"

Heather opened the drawers under the television
cabinet, and then moved to the table beside the bed. "There's got
to be a phone book around here! What's your name?"

"Victim!" the little girl said and
snickered.

"Dead Girl In A Roadside Ditch if you don't tell
me!"

"Lisa Marie Lovins," she said. "But... well,
you'll see. Give them a call. You remember the address, right? Use
information. The number is..."

"I know that number." Heather sneered at the
child and then dialed the operator on the motel phone. "Yeah, I
need the number for the Lovin's residence in Big Hills Estates,
Huntington, West Virginia. Huh? Well shit!" She slammed the phone
down. "Unlisted!" She looked behind her but the little girl wasn't
on the bed. "Hey!"

Suddenly, she felt excruciating pain in her
foot, and as she jerked her leg, it hurt even more. Lisa was on her
knees in front of her, and had just driven a large knife through
her foot, pinning it to the floor. The child backed away quickly,
then looked up and smiled. "You wanna get some breakfast? I need a
big breakfast before I feel like doing anything in the
mornings."

"Fuck!" Heather reached down and pulled the
knife out of her foot and threw it at Lisa, but she rolled out of
the way and the knife lodged in the wooden floor again until the
girl wiggled it out and held it toward Heather. She had more to
worry about than an armed child, mostly what the armed child had
just done to her foot. Blood was pooling on the floor every time
she took a tortured step, but she managed to make it to the bed and
sat down. "You little bitch!" She pulled the sheet off the bed and
wrapped it around her foot, then pointed at the child. "I'm going
to cut your fucking hands off!"

Lisa didn't seem bothered. "See, mom always says
to wear your shoes, even indoors! I bet that really hurt, didn't
it?"

"Fuck yes!"

"Sorry. If you've got some needle and thread
I'll stitch it up for you," she said. "I sewed an arm back on my
teddy once."

Heather glanced toward her bag on the other side
of the room, then back to the girl.  "The bathroom is over
there, freshen up and we'll go get some food."

Lisa nodded and smiled. "But your bag is over
there and there's a gun in it, right?"

She jumped up and darted toward her bag, but the
pain in her foot was too much and she collapsed. But the little
girl was straddling her back almost instantly, and had the knife
next to her throat. She laughed as the knife cut into the
teenager's flesh. Not much, but it was enough to draw blood. "For
fuck's sake!" Heather yelled and jerked her head away and toppled
the girl onto the floor.

Lisa rolled toward the bag in the corner,
grabbed it, and then pulled out the small handgun. "Oh, stop
whining," she said. She waved the gun and smiled again. "Get back
to the bed; we need to talk."

"What are you?!" Heather cried as she stood up,
moaned in pain, and then fell backward onto the bed, barely
managing to sit up again. As she did, Lisa was holding the gun to
her face.

"Open up," she whispered as she pushed the
barrel of the gun against Heather's lips. She jerked her head back,
but the little girl followed her movement, pounding the metal
barrel into her lips. "Now, you've got blood on the gun!" She
pushed the gun into her lips again. "Open."

For the first time, Heather was really scared.
Before she had just been in pain, but now she was scared. The
little, innocent girl was not what she was supposed to be, not what
she had expected. Something was terribly wrong with Lisa Marie
Lovins. She opened her mouth slightly, then felt the metal barrel
on her teeth and opened wider before the little girl knocked her
teeth out. She felt the barrel on her tongue, the salty, bitter
metallic taste mixed with the taste of the blood from her lips.

Lisa smacked the side of her head, almost
playfully, but still firmly. "Now, you know what I'm capable of
doing, right? You made a terrible mistake when you picked me. No
matter what shit you’ve gone through in life, I’ve already gone
through it and kicked its ass." She nodded her head toward the
table beside the bed. "You need to call my mother and tell her what
I tell you to say."

Heather tried to nod and the little girl pulled
the gun out of her mouth. "I'll do what you want me to do," she
said.

The child picked up the phone, dialed a number,
and then handed it to Heather. "My mom's personal cell number.
You've kidnapped me. The ransom is one hundred thousand dollars,
delivered by Regina, the maid, to the old green dumpster behind the
Mini Market on Route 75 at four o'clock today."

"Ah, hello?" Heather said. "Yeah, this is the
kidnapper. I have your daughter. If ya want to see her again, have
the maid Regina leave a hundred thousand dollars in cash in the
dumpster behind the Mini Market on Route 75 at four o'clock
today."

"Mommy! Mommy!" Lisa screamed. "They're beating
me! There's a big man and he's taking his pants off! Mommy!" She
put her finger on the disconnect button on the dial pad. "I should
be an actress when I grow up."

Heather put the receiver back in place. "She
said she'd pay but didn't want you back." She tried to remember
when she lost control, but it wasn't clear. She was losing a lot of
blood from her foot and starting to feel dizzy. Suddenly, she felt
the little girl's hand slapping her cheek. "Owe! Shit!"

"You were nodding off," Lisa said.

"I'm losing too much blood," she said. "I need a
doctor."

"Don't care," the little girl said and then
sighed loudly. "Well, shit!" She opened a table drawer and then
another one. "There," she said and pulled out a small sewing kit.
"Every cheap-assed motel room I've ever been in has one of these in
it somewhere." She tossed it into Heather's lap. "You do it; I
can't trust you now. You were going to kill me with this gun so I
can't take the chance of putting it down."

"Do what?" Heather said.

"Sew up your fucking foot, shit-for-brains!" She
reached down and ripped the bed sheet off the teenager's foot, then
motioned for her to pull it up on her other leg.

She did as told, but started crying and gagged.
"I cain't do it!"

"Well shit," Lisa said. She watched as Heather
fell over backward on the bed. She had passed out. "I should sew
your lips together."

***

Heather opened her eyes and then suddenly became
aware of someone slapping her in the face. It was the child,
kneeling on her chest, slapping her with all her might. "Stop
it!"

"Oh, you're awake," Lisa said as she climbed
down and jumped off the bed. "You're lucky I didn't use a baseball
bat." She pointed to Heather's foot. "No need to thank me for
saving your life."

The teenager looked down then screamed in
horror. "You! You sewed my toes together!"

"Oh yeah, cool, huh?" Lisa said. "I figured
sewing up your wound would just make it harder for you to run away,
but you put any kind of real force on those toes, that thread is
going to slice you open like a hundred razor blades."

"Run away?" Heather whispered. "I kidnapped
you." She was beginning to wonder if that was actually true.

"It's nearly four," the little girl said,
ignoring what Heather had said. "We give dear old Regina till a few
minutes after four, then pick up the cash."

"Why are you doing this?"

"You can call the police on me if you want to,"
Lisa said, and then laughed. "I'm sure they would believe your
story once they interview me." She waved the gun toward the phone
and shrugged. "No?"

"Just let me leave, please? I can't say a word,
you know that. Please, just let me walk out the door."

"Sorry," Lisa said. "No can do. You have a car.
That's the only way to get to Mini Market. That’s like a million
miles walk with my little legs." She thought for a moment. "I guess
I could hitchhike, but that's so dangerous, you know. No, for now,
it's you and me, sister. Wrap that pillow case around your foot and
tie it off. We won't have time to keep stopping for medical
emergencies. We're on a mission."

"Until it's over and you blow my brains out,"
she said.

"Enjoy life!" Lisa said in an animated voice.
"Live each moment like it could be your last!"

Heather stood up and tried to put weight on her
foot, but the pain was just too much. But, with some effort, she
could hobble on her heel. She watched as the little girl waved the
gun toward the door, and grabbed her bag from the bed and limped
toward it. "I was set up, right?"

"Well, let's say I've been through this
kidnapping thing before," Lisa said. "You were the… what’s the
word… convenient idiot. Why is it a little kid playing in a big
yard is just so tempting for all of you shitheads?" She shrugged.
"But I always get home. In fact, I've got more money stashed away
in this town than I'll ever spend. But, it is so fun to play the
game with mom."

"She's in on it, too?"

Shit no! She's so hopped up on pills she barely
knows what state she lives in," she said. "That's why daddy left
us, the stupid cow! But for a fucked up old bitch, she really can
entertain me!"

"All of this is because you like torturing your
mother?"

"Nope!" Lisa said as they both stepped out of
the motel room and into the hot midday sun. "I like torturing
everyone. But, mom is special. She even tried to kill me once when
one of her boyfriends told her he didn’t want no kids around. She
tried to drown me in the bathtub. But, Regina came in and dear old
mom pretended nothing was going on. She lost all her nerve after
that, and most of her mind. Gets real pathetic when I bring it up."
She walked around to the passenger side door of Heather's old wreck
and opened it, pointing the gun across the seat and through the far
side glass at Heather as she opened her door and climbed into the
driver's seat. Then Lisa jumped in and slammed her door. "Oh, don't
try driving anyplace except our destination. I know the route by
heart." She sniffed the air inside the car and crinkled her nose.
"Damn! So this is what a two dollar whore house smells like in the
hot sun."

"I can barely drive at all in this much pain,"
Heather whispered.

"Just think, you can pretend to be a hero
later," the child said. "Hobble into a hospital and make up some
sob story about being abducted. Tell 'em some black guys did it and
you'll be on the news."

"You mean it? You're going to let me go?" she
said. She sniffed away the forming tears and pulled out of the
motel parking lot and onto Route 60 which led through the center of
town and merged into Route 75 just past the underpass that led out
of town. They were both silent. "You always play the game like
this? You always win?"

"Nope, I don't always win," Lisa said. She
wasn't paying much attention and was spinning the cylinder on the
revolver in her hand. "Got hurt real bad once last year. Growed up
real quick after that."

"Oh."

"Just made me tougher," she said.

"Ain't there places that could help you?"
Heather said. "Help ya work out your problems."

"I'm six. What problems could a six year old
have?" she said.

"Ya got problems. Trust me, I know.  I've
got most of the same problems. But your momma needs ta be
horse-whipped. Ain't no child should go through all the shit she
put you through."

The little girl stared at her for a moment.
"There's the dumpster," she said. "Pull in over there in the alley.
I've used this place before; no one can see you in the alley."