Fiends SSC (22 page)

    Now, only a few strides separated Allan from the woman.

    In the darkness behind the mask’s eye slots, he could see nothing except mere specks of reflected light. A vague hint of lips showed through the slot at her mouth.

    
I’ve got to say something. Apologize. At least.

    He was walking straight toward her, so he angled to his right. Her head turned.

    He managed a smile.

    They passed each other.

    He breathed in her perfume. A scent so strange and delicious it forced him to sigh, to look back at her.

    She halted as if she felt his gaze.

    ‘Excuse me?’ he said. Damn, but he sounded like a scared kid! She turned around.

    ‘Do you remember me?’ he asked.

    ‘Oh, yes.’ Her voice was low, breathy. In spite of the narrow gap at her mouth, it stirred the mask like a soft breeze.

    ‘I… I guess I kind of… lost my cool last week. I’m really glad you came along.’ He shrugged. ‘I wanted to apologize.’

    ‘Apologize? For running from me?’ she asked.

    ‘I’m really sorry.’

    ‘What’s your name?’

    He hesitated. ‘Allan.’

    ‘Allan what?’

    She wants my
last
name? Good God, she’d be able to look me up, find me. ‘Hawthorne,’ he lied. ‘Allan Hawthorne.’

    She stepped toward him, mask and dress glimmering, and reached out her hand. Allan shook it. But when he tried to let go, her fingers tightened. She held him in a firm, warm grip. ‘I’m Ligeia,’ she said.

    The name surprised him. ‘Really? Ligeia? There’s a story by Poe…’

    ‘I know,’ she said in her strange, hushed voice.

    ‘I really like Poe.’

    ‘We have that in common, then. Come with me.’ She pulled him by the hand. And kept his hand in hers as she led him slowly down the sidewalk.

    ‘Uh… Where are we going?’

    ‘Does it matter?’

    ‘I don’t know.’

    ‘You’re free to leave, if that’s your wish.’

    ‘No. No, that’s okay.’

    She nodded slightly, then turned her head forward.

    Allan hoped to see under her mask, but it curved around the side of her face, hiding her almost to the ear. It hung from a headband, a folded scarf that was tied at the back. The way the silver cloth was tucked in over the top of the scarf, it flowed down smoothly except for a slight bump made by the tip of her nose. Her chin didn’t seem to touch the draping fabric at all.

    They walked in silence for a while.

    He wished she would say something.

    Finally, he broke the silence himself. ‘I really felt awful about running away.’

    She stopped and turned toward him. ‘It was this,’ she said. Her other hand came up. Her fingertips glided down the glossy mask, easing it inward. Ever so briefly as the fingers slid down, the mask took on the contours of her face. Though her eyes remained hidden, Allan glimpsed a veiled suggestion of slender nose and cheeks. Her lips appeared for an instant, bare in the opening. Her fingers drifted the fabric against a small bulge of chin. Then she breathed. The hints of her face dissolved behind a silver tremor.

    Allan tried to swallow. He wished his heart would slow down.

    ‘I frighten you, don’t I?’

    ‘A little,’ he whispered. ‘I guess.’

    ‘We fear the unknown,’ she said. ‘But we’re enthralled by it.’

    ‘Yes.’

    ‘Do I enthrall you, Allan?’

    He let out a small, nervous laugh. ‘I don’t know. You sure… make me curious.’

    ‘You wonder what the mask hides.’

    ‘Yes. And… and why you walk around at an hour like this.’

    ‘So I won’t be seen.’

    ‘But why?’

    ‘My face, of course. Come along.’ She turned away, pulling at his hand, and they resumed walking. ‘I like the night,’ she said. ‘It holds such secrets.’

    ‘But its dangerous.’

    ‘Not for me. The mask protects me. People keep their distance. They take me for a madwoman.’

    ‘I guess… I was afraid of that, myself.’

    ‘I know.’

    ‘You’re not, though.’

    ‘You don’t think so?’

    ‘Hope not.’

    Laughing softly, she squeezed his hand. ‘I think I like you, Allan.’

    ‘I think I like you, too.’

    ‘Shall we be friends?’

    ‘Sure,’ he said.

    She looked at him.
‘Are
you sure?’

    ‘Yeah. I mean, why not?’

    ‘You’re still frightened of me, aren’t you?’

    ‘A little, maybe.’

    ‘I won’t hurt you.’

    ‘It’s just… you know, the mask. If I could see your face… Is it… is something wrong with it?’

    ‘My face is my own.’

    ‘How can we be friends if you’re hiding behind a mask, if you won’t let me see what you look like?’

    She gave no answer, but led him into an alley. His mouth went dry. His heart slammed. As they left the lights of the street behind, he peered into the darkness. High walls on both sides. Dumpsters ahead. But no lurking derelicts that he could see. Though the alley appeared deserted, he trembled with dread and excitement.

    Ligeia halted. She put her hands on his shoulders.

    ‘Is my face
so
important?’ she asked.

    Oh, God! She’s going to take off the mask. Now. Right here in the alley. In the dark.

    ‘Is it?’ she asked again.

    ‘Uh. I guess not. Not really.’

    ‘You said we can’t be friends unless you know what I look like.’

    ‘That isn’t quite what…’

    ‘Suppose I’m not pretty? Would you run from me again?’

    ‘No.’

    ‘Suppose I’m horribly ugly?’

    ‘Is that why you wear the mask?’

    ‘Perhaps.’ Gently, she rubbed his shoulders. ‘How important is my face to you, Allan? Does it need to be beautiful? Or can you accept me without… passing judgement on it?’

    He managed to whisper, ‘Yes.’

    ‘Yes what?’

    ‘I don’t need to see.’

    She glided forward, wrapped her arms around Allan and drew him close against her. He felt the heat of her body, the push of her breasts, the cool smoothness of the mask against his face. Her lips met his mouth.

    Her lips felt wonderful. Warm and moist.

    So long since the last time he’d held and kissed a woman. The feel of her shocked him with desire.

    But she
must
be hideous, or why…?

    He didn’t care. She smelled of strange, jungle blossoms. Her sweet breath filled him. He slid his tongue into her mouth and she sucked it in deep and writhed against him, rubbing him with her sleek body as her hands clutched his back.

    His own hands roamed Ligeia’s back, caressing the skin above the top of her dress, roaming lower, sliding the fabric against her, following her curves down past the sash. He filled his hands with the soft, firm mounds of her buttocks. And knew they were bare beneath the fragile veil of the skirt. Moaning into her mouth, he pulled the skirt up.

    Ligeia grabbed his wrists. She forced his hands down to his sides and leaned away, shaking her head. She breathed hard. The mask clung around her mouth, wet.

    ‘What’s wrong?’ Allan whispered.

    ‘Nothing. You’re… I’ve got to leave now.’

    He took a step toward her. She stopped him, hands against his chest.

    ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘Perhaps we’ll see each other again.’ She backed away from him.

    ‘Don’t go.’

    Without another word, she whirled and fled.

    The moment she vanished from sight, Allan ran to the mouth of the alley. He spotted her to the right, dashing up the sidewalk, her shimmering dress afly, her arms pumping, her long bare legs striding out, her sandals clapping the concrete.

    ‘Ligeia!’ he cried out.

    She didn’t look back.

    
What if I never see her again?

    Maybe that’d be for the best, he told himself. What sort of relationship could we have, anyway? She has to wear that mask. Too grotesque to go anywhere without it.

    I’d be better off…

    She darted around the corner.

    ‘No!’ he yelled into the night, and sprinted after her.

    The hell with the mask, he thought as he raced up the sidewalk. Who gives a shit! Who gives a shit
what
she looks like!

    He ran harder than he’d ever run before.

    Pounded around the corner.

    Skidded to a halt when he saw her no more than fifty feet away.

    Obviously, she hadn’t thought he would pursue her. She was walking slowly, head down, arms swaying limp at her sides, sandals scuffing along. She seemed lost in her thoughts, crushed by a burden of dejection.

    
Ligeia,
Allan thought.
What have I done to you?

    He ached to rush forward and take her into his arms and make everything all right.

    That might only make matters worse.

    Is she upset because I got carried away in the alley?
She’s
the one who started it. And that dress! Nothing on under it. What did she expect?

    Maybe that isn’t it. Suppose she’s falling in love with me and knows it can’t work. Maybe that’s why she fled.

    Whatever the reason, she was probably in no mood for Allan to put in an appearance.

    He couldn’t just walk away, though.

    So he decided to follow her. He crept closer to the building fronts, ready to duck out of sight if she should start to turn around, and made his way forward, matching her pace.

    Find out where she lives, he thought. She’s bound to head for home, sooner or later.

    He felt guilty, sneaking after her. Spying on her. It seemed like a betrayal. But he kept at it, knowing that if he quit he might lose her forever.

    

    

    It went well for two blocks.

    Then she stopped at a street corner. Though there seemed to be no traffic, she stood and waited for the light to change. As Allan watched, she began to turn around. He rushed forward, dodged into an entry way and stepped on the ankle of a derelict huddled in the darkness. The filthy old man flinched, moaned. With a gasp, Allan lurched away from him and staggered into the middle of the sidewalk.

    He jerked his head forward, spotted Ligeia at the corner.

    Facing him.

    ‘Ligeia!’ he called. ‘Please!’

    She flung herself around and leapt into the street. Without checking for traffic.

    ‘Look out!' Allan cried.

    The teenager bearing down on her yelped. Ligeia tried to lean out of his way. The teenager swerved, but not in time.

    The bicycle slammed into her, tumbled her to the pavement, twisted away and hit the curb, its abrupt stop hurling the kid against the handlebars.

    Ligeia, sprawled in the street, started to push herself up.

    As Allan ran to help, the kid jumped from his bicycle, let it fall, and hurried toward Ligeia. She was crouched, trying to stand, her back to him. ‘Geez, lady. You okay?’

    She looked over her shoulder at him. Her mask gleamed in the streetlights.

    ‘Yeeeah!’ he gasped, and bolted for his bike.

    Even before he got to it, Ligeia was up and running. The kid started to pick up his bike, but dropped it and scampered out of the way when he saw Allan bearing down on him.

    Allan hurdled the rear wheel.

    Ligeia had already made the other side of the street.

    ‘Wait!’ he called.

    She didn’t look back, didn’t slow down.

    She was fast. Not as fast as Allan, but almost. It took all his speed to gain on her.

    ‘Please! Stop!’

    She
had
to be hurting. A patch of skin over her right shoulder blade was scraped raw. Her skirt was torn, and drooped away from the scuffed cheek of her buttock. Her pumping arms showed Allan abraded elbows. Her whole body must be afire with pain.

    ‘Why are you
doing
this?’ he gasped.

    ‘Leave me alone!’ she cried out.

    ‘No! You need me! I need you!’

    ‘You… don’t
know
me!’

    ‘I know you’re lonely. I know I
care
about you. We can’t lose each other. Please.’

    ‘You’ll hate me!’

    ‘Bullshit!’

    ‘I’m…’

    ‘I don’t give a flying fuck if you look like Godzilla!’

    Reaching out, he grabbed her left arm. She tried to twist free of his grip. ‘Stop that!’ he snapped. And tugged her to a halt. Turned her roughly toward him.

    Clutching both her upper arms, he pushed her backward and pinned her against the accordion gate of a pharmacy. It rattled as she hit it.

    ‘Settle down.’

    She quit struggling. She gasped for air. Her breath gusted out the front of her mask.

    ‘Are you okay?’ he asked.

    She shook her head.

    ‘You shouldn’t have run.’

    ‘Obviously.’

    The remark made his throat tighten. He drew Ligeia gently against him. And her arms wrapped around him. He pressed his face against the mask, felt her cheek through its slick fabric. They held each other for a long time.

    Then Ligeia whispered, ‘I don’t want to lose you so soon. Before we’ve even…’

    ‘You won’t.’

    ‘You haven’t seen my face.’

    ‘It doesn’t matter.’

    ‘Think so, huh?’ She squeezed Allan hard against her, then eased him away. ‘I… I’ve got to show you.’