Blood Games (11 page)

    She led the way to the door, unlocked it in case they might need to return, then inched it open and looked into the dark hallway. ‘Coast is clear,’ she whispered, and stepped out.

    On her way to the center staircase, she felt terribly exposed and vulnerable. She wanted to run. She walked slowly, instead, listening, setting her feet down softly. At last, she reached the stairs. Helen stayed close behind her as she climbed.

    ‘What if Hardin hasn’t left?’ Helen whispered.

    ‘Shhhhh.’

    From the landing, Abilene could see that the second floor hallway was dark. She continued to the top, and peered around a corner to the right. Hardin’s office was the third one down. No light came from under its door or shone through the open glass transom.

    Stepping forward, she checked all the offices along the corridor. They were dark.

    ‘Looks like we’re in business,’ she said.

    Helen followed her to the door of Hardin’s office.

    Abilene tried the knob. ‘Locked.’

    ‘What did you expect?’

    ‘I just hope she’s not sitting in there, meditating in the dark.’

    ‘Don’t say that.’

    ‘Go on down the hall.’

    ‘Huh?’

    ‘Go to the stairs. Get ready to make a run for it.’

    ‘What’re you gonna do?’

    ‘Go.’

    Helen hurried to the far end of the hall. When she stopped at the head of the stairs, Abilene knocked on Hardin’s door.

    No harsh voice demanded to know who was there.

    Abilene willed herself to hear the slightest sound from inside the office: the creak of a chair, a footstep, breathing, a stir of fabric. She heard nothing. In spite of the silence, she half expected the door to fly open in front of her face, Hardin to reach out and grab her. She ached to bolt.

    She wondered what she was doing here in the first place.

    Risking expulsion - or worse.

    She could’ve been safe, right now, back at the dorm. Even better, she could’ve been in the park making out with Robbie.

    Instead, she was on this crazy mission. Not really to avenge Barbara, though that was part of it. The real purpose was simply to do something wild for the fun of it.

    
This is the last time I get myself into something like this, she told herself. I don’t care if the others think I’m a chicken. I don’t care who dares who.

    Madness.

    Then she realized that nothing had happened in response to her knock.

    She hurried down the hall and joined Helen at the top of the stairs.

    ‘Are you out of your gourd?’ Helen asked.

    ‘We both are. But I had to make sure she wasn’t there, didn’t I? Come on.’ They trotted downstairs and stopped at the double doors leading outside. Abilene checked her wristwatch. Five till ten. ‘Maybe they’re early,’ she said. She pushed one of the horizontal bars and eased the door open.

    Finley, sitting on a bench in the darkness under an oak tree, raised a hand in greeting. She stood and picked up her video camera. A few strides took her to the end of the bench. Facing the wooded lawn that bordered the campus, she swung an arm overhead.

    Moments later, Cora and Vivian appeared on one of the walkways. They were each carrying a grocery sack. They met up with Finley and the three of them, glancing this way and that, hurried to the stoop of the administration building. They rushed up the concrete stairs. The moment they were inside, Abilene pulled the door shut.

    ‘How’d it go?’ Cora whispered.

    ‘Hardin showed up.’

    ‘Christ,’ Vivian muttered.

    ‘Yeah, we were…’

    ‘Tell us later,’ Cora said. ‘Let’s get into her office first. Nobody’s in the building, I take it?’

    ‘We don’t think so. The custodians never did show up.’ Turning to Finley, she said, ‘They were supposed to be in and out by ten, remember?’

    ‘I’m not an expert on their schedule. But they’re in Waller right now.’

    Waller Hall was the science building on the other side of the campus.

    ‘As long as they aren’t here,’ Cora said, and started up the stairs. '

    ‘We’d better keep an eye out for them,’ Abilene warned.

    ‘How many are there?’ Helen asked.

    ‘Just two who come here.’

    ‘That’s not so bad,’ Cora said.

    ‘It only takes one to spot us and we’re dead,’ Abilene said. They stopped in front of Hardin’s office door. Cora set her bag on the floor. ‘Give me some light.’

    Abilene switched on her flashlight and aimed it into the sack. Cora’s denim purse was there among bottles and plastic bags of snacks. Crouching, the girl opened it. She took out a credit card. ‘This oughta be good,’ Finley said.

    Card in hand, Cora tried to loid the lock. After a while, she muttered, ‘Shit. It always works in the movies.’

    ‘This ain’t the movies,’ Finley pointed out.

    ‘How’ll we get in?’ Helen asked.

    ‘Maybe this is our cue to quit,’ Vivian suggested.

    ‘No way,’ Cora said. ‘I had to shell out twenty bucks to get that guy to buy the booze.’

    ‘We could always drink it in the comfort and safety of the dorm,’ Abilene said.

    ‘We’re gonna get in if I have to kick the fucking door down.’

    ‘One of us might be able to climb in through that,’ Finley said, pointing at the open transom above the door.

    Cora stared at it. ‘Yeah. You’re the smallest.’

    ‘You’re the jock.’

    ‘Cora’s ass might get stuck,’ Vivian said.

    ‘Screw you.’ With that, Cora put away her credit card and purse. ‘Give me a boost.’

    Abilene and Helen made stirrups of their hands. They squatted. Cora stepped aboard. They lifted while Vivian and Finley shoved at her rump. Cora pulled herself up by the sill. In seconds, her head and arms were through the gap. She squirmed. The girls thrust her higher. ‘Yeeow!’

    ‘What?’ Abilene asked.

    ‘My tits. Finley, you bitch, you could’ve gotten through easy.’

    ‘Me, too,’ Vivian said. ‘But you’re the fearless leader.’

    ‘Everyone let go of me.’

    The girls stepped back. Kicking, writhing, groaning, Cora squeezed her torso through the space beneath the window. Then she went motionless, apparently resting before the final assault. Her legs were bent, knees braced against the top of the door, feet up. Her rump did look larger than the gap.

    ‘Here comes the hard part,’ Vivian said.

    ‘Screw all of ya,’ came Cora’s muffled voice.

    She kicked her legs, twisted, squirmed, lurched, growled. Her rump made it through the transom. Her shorts didn’t. As she fell out of sight behind the door, the gym shorts travelled down to her ankles where they were snagged by a latch at the bottom of the transom and plucked from her disappearing shoes.

    Helen giggled.

    Inside the office, Cora thudded.

    Vivian jumped. She grabbed the shorts, gave them a flip, and freed them.

    Muttering a string of curses, Cora opened the door.

    ‘Lost something,’ Vivian said, and handed over the shorts.

    Cora put them on. She and Vivian picked up the grocery bags, and everyone entered the office. Abilene shut the door after them.

    They walked past the secretary’s desk, through a doorway into Hardin’s office. Abilene shut that door, too. Cora flicked a light switch, and overhead fluorescents blinked on.

    ‘Hey!’ Helen protested.

    ‘It’s okay,’ Cora said, nodding toward the closed blinds.

    ‘Light’ll still get through,’ Abilene said.

    ‘Not much. Besides, we’re on the second floor. Nobody’ll notice.’

    ‘And I can’t record the event for posterity if we don’t have the lights on,’ Finley said. She lifted her camera and began to tape.

    ‘That better not fall into the wrong hands,’ Cora warned.

    ‘Nobody’ll ever see it but us.’

    Cora and Vivian set their sacks on Hardin’s desk. They removed bags of potato chips and com chips, a stack of plastic glasses, two bottles of tequila, two cartons of lemonade, and a clear plastic bag full of ice cubes. As they began to prepare drinks, Abilene looked around the office.

    In front of the big desk was a single armchair with brown vinyl upholstery. The hot seat, she thought. Probably where Barbara was sitting when Hardin dumped the rum on her head. Some must’ve gotten on the carpet. Sure enough, the old gray carpet was stained around the chair. More than a litde rum, Abilene guessed, had been spilled there.

    A couple of straight-backed chairs stood just inside the door. There were bookshelves against two walls, filing cabinets in one corner. The room reminded her of other campus offices she had seen: cluttered with books, pamphlets, magazines, stacks of paperwork. Only the top of Hardin’s desk was tidy, bare except for the telephone, in and out baskets, a Rolodex and a pen set -and the items brought in by Cora and Vivian.

    Soon, all five glasses were fully loaded with ice, lemonade and tequila. ‘Help yourselves, ladies,’ Cora said. She took one, went around to the rear of the desk, sat in a swivel chair and put her feet up.

    The others lifted their glasses. They waited while Helen finished breaking into a bag of potato chips. When she finished and picked up the last glass, Cora raised hers and toasted, ‘To us.’

    ‘More guts than brains,’ Abilene added.

    ‘That’s for sure,’ Vivian said.

    ‘Daring young maids,’ said Finley.

    ‘Can’t believe we’re doing this,’ Helen said.

    Then they drank.

    Vivian made a face. ‘Yuh! This stuff is strong.’

    Abilene hadn’t watched the preparation of the drinks. From the taste of hers, however, she suspected that her tequila had been flavored by a splash of lemonade.

    ‘Yum yum,’ Finley said.

    ‘So Hardass was in here tonight?’ Cora asked.

    ‘Yeah,’ Abilene said. ‘And she nearly caught us.’

    While everyone sipped their drinks and munched chips, she told the story of their trip to the restroom.

    ‘You stepped in the toilet?’ Cora blurted, laughing.

    ‘It was dark,’ Helen explained.

    ‘Gross,’ said Vivian.

    ‘I wondered what that smell was,’ Finley said.

    ‘So anyway…’ and Abilene went on. They all cracked up when she told of Hardin’s fart. ‘And she said, “Fuckin’ chili.” ’

    ‘You’re making that up,’ Vivian protested.

    ‘No lie. That’s just what she said. Helen heard her.’

    ‘Yeah, that’s what she said.’

    ‘And you should’ve smelled that sucker!’

    ‘Hardin didn’t say “fuck”. Not Hardin.’

    ‘Did, too.’

    ‘I always knew she was a fraud,’ Finley said. ‘Nobody can be as uptight as she puts on.’

    ‘She called that gal a bitch, too.’

    ‘Wonder who it was,’ Cora said.

    ‘Wonder what Hardin did to her,’ Finley said. ‘Pretty weird, bringing someone up here at night.’

    ‘Maybe it was her girlfriend,’ Helen suggested.

    ‘Yeah, brought her up here to mess around.’

    ‘Come on,’ Abilene said. ‘She has a house or apartment or something. Why would she bring anyone here? Probably just some poor slob she caught chewing gum.’

    ‘Pour some more,’ Cora said.

    Finley refilled the glasses. With ice, a lot of tequila, and a dab of lemonade.

    Already, Abilene’s cheeks were feeling a trifle numb. ‘We’re gonna get juiced,’ she warned.

    ‘That’s the point, Hickok.’

    ‘Hickok?’ Abilene asked.

    ‘You know, Wild Bill. James Butler. The guy that cleaned up Abilene.’

    ‘He didn’t clean up me.’

    ‘You sure know your history,’ Vivian said, grinning crookedly at Finley.

    ‘I’m a whizz kid.’

    ‘Speaking of whizz,’ Helen said, ‘Hardin didn’t have any paper in her stall.’

    ‘I figured she was gonna come over to mine,’ Abilene said, ‘and that’d be it. But she didn’t. She didn’t wipe.’

    ‘You lie.’

    ‘Or flush,’ Helen added.

    ‘Or wash her hands.’

    ‘A real hog.’

    ‘A bitch,’ Finley said. ‘Maybe she licked herself clean.’

    ‘Disgusting!’ Vivian blurted.

    ‘And she wants us to be proper young ladies,’ Cora said.

    ‘Which we are,’ Finley said. She reached into one of the bags and lifted out a stack of magazines. She passed some of them around.

    Abilene set down her drink and leafed through the magazine Finley had given her. Its pages featured photographs of naked men. They had oiled, shiny skin. They had bulging muscles. They had big penises.

    Helen stepped closer and looked. ‘Wow,’ she said. ‘Wanta trade?’

    Helen’s magazine showed women posing with their legs spread wide. They were licking their lips, caressing themselves. Many of them had no pubic hair. One had a fingertip buried in her vagina. Some of the photos showed two or three women together, biting and squeezing and licking each other.

    ‘Raunchy stuff,’ Vivian commented.

    ‘Terrific,’ said Cora. ‘Look at the schlong on this guy.’ She turned her magazine around and showed them a full-page picture.

    ‘I wouldn’t let him near me with a ten-foot pole,’ Abilene said.

    ‘That is a ten-foot pole,’ Finley remarked, laughing. Then she dug into the sack and pulled out some rolls of tape. ‘Enough ogling the bods,’ she said. ‘Let’s get to work.’

    They filled their glasses again. Laughing, sipping, sharing their discoveries of particularly outlandish photos, making return trips to the desk for chips and refills, they spent the next twenty minutes tearing pages from the magazines and taping them all over Hardin’s office. They taped pictures to the sides of the desk, to the chairs, to the door and walls and filing cabinets and bookshelves, to the window blinds. Cora, standing atop the desk, even papered a portion of the ceiling.