Flight to Darkness (2 page)

“
Nothing.” My voice was
hoarse.

“
You’ll be seeing Frank before
long.”

I didn’t say anything.

“
You’re leaving here. That means
there’s nobody to grab you if you go after somebody.”

I’d always felt he exaggerated this. If I went
after somebody—as he put it—it would be because they needed just
that. Maybe I’d got out of hand in the past, but that was
finished.

“
I’ve said too much and said it
wrong, maybe. But you’ll have to take more than this. You’re
intelligent enough. You’ll have times of mental depression. Ups and
downs—normal to everyone but you. You’ll imagine they’re something
else. Ride it through. Battle fatigue is just a name that covers
countless variations from a specific norm. It can be
tough.”

“
Okay.”

“
You going ahead with the
sculpturing?”

“
Yeah. It’s all I ever really
wanted.”

“
You’re going home to a pile of
money.”

“
Well, there’s the business, a loan
business. It’s worth close to a half million right now. Frank’s
running it for the time being. God knows how. That’s supposed to be
split between the two of us when mother dies.” I hesitated. “Then
there’s more money, inheritance, that comes to me when she dies. My
father’s will.”

“
Frank’s out of that?”

“
Yes. But I want to get to work,
Doc. I want that business so I can get straightened out. It’ll give
me the money and time for my sculpturing. Maybe
eventually—”

“
Never heard from your
mother?”

I shook my head. “I told Frank in a letter I
was leaving California, heading for home.”

“
I talked with Frank on the phone,
Eric.”

I went in tight all over, forced myself to
relax. But Prescott noticed. He noticed every damned
thing.

“
I haven’t told him anything about
what you’ve been through; it didn’t involve him. That’s for you to
work out. Not the first time I’ve talked with him. He doesn’t know
what you dream, only that you do. Your mother’s very ill. Sorry.
It’s her heart, as you know.”

I was wearing a light tan suit. It was getting
hot. A fly lit on my left sleeve. I flicked him off, watched him
buzz in an angry circle.

“
You’re driving home?”

I nodded. “Bought a car. Going into L.A for it
this afternoon.”

The fly pulled a vertical bank and if he’d had
machine guns he could have strafed Prescott’s skull neatly.
Prescott reached out with that irritating calmness of his and
plucked the fly from mid-air. He thoughtfully squashed it inside
his fist, dropped it into the waste basket.

“
Leda Thayer—”

“
Driving back with me, Doc. She’s
through nursing; her hitch is up.”

“
Yes. Going to marry?”

“
Soon as I see—get things
straightened out.”

He sighed again. “She’s a good nurse. Make a
good wife. Knows what to expect. Fine girl.” He paused, then said,
“You know she planned to make Army nursing her career?”

I hadn’t known. But right then all that
mattered was getting out of there. I didn’t want to talk with
Prescott any longer, answer his questions, wonder what the hell was
going on behind his eyes. I knew why he’d kept me here so long.
Just to make sure old Garth was headed straight.

He rose, walked around his desk. I stood. We
looked at each other. I wished to hell he hadn’t killed that
fly.

“
How do your legs feel?”

“
Fine.”

“
You walk all right. Back bother
you?”

“
No—a little.”

“
Still a few pieces of metal in
there for you to tote around.”

“
Well,” I said. “I guess this is
it.”

We shook hands. “Don’t have to warn you. But
stay away from the bottle. No telling what alcohol might do to you.
Might start knocking people around just for the noise.” He was
quite serious. He’d told me about that before.

I forced a grin to let him know nothing
bothered me. Because he was trying to bother me—and succeeding. He
always had to make sure. I wondered what he’d told Frank over the
phone. And what Frank had said, damn him.

“
If you feel like things are
falling apart, take a walk. Especially if you feel like tearing
anybody apart. Take it quick and take it far. I’ll always be here.”
He smiled wryly. “Until I die—or until some guy like you smashes me
with my desk.”

I began to like him now, after it was too
late. “Well, so long, Doc. And—thanks.”

“
Good luck, Eric.”

I went on out. The tenseness that had been
with me in the office became worse. I stopped there in the hall,
took some deep breaths. It was as if this were some kind of trial.
I tried not to think they were just giving me a chance to see what
I’d do, that they’d come along after me in a minute. But I couldn’t
stop thinking that way. It was bad.

One of the men in the ward said there was a
guy out on the sunporch who wanted to see me.

“
What kind of a guy?”

“
A guy! A guy. St. Peter, maybe.
Just a guy!”

He was an excitable patient. I noticed Leda
down at the other end of the room. She was saying goodbye to some
of the men. She no longer wore the nurse’s uniform. I knew she’d
put it on just for me because I liked it. I waved at her. She
wrinkled her eyes and waved back.

I went on out to the sunporch. This fellow was
sitting in the wicker chair by the magazine rack. He put down a
copy of the Reader’s Digest and stood up as I entered.

“
I’m Eric Garth. Somebody told
me—”

“
Well, sure. I’m from
Decker’s.”

“
Decker’s?”

“
Your car.” He stood there a
moment. He was about my height, six two, but maybe a little heavier
in the middle. His yellow sport shirt bulged over his belt between
the flaps of a tweed jacket. He was bright-eyed and smiling too
much and his hair was combed too neatly. It was brown hair and it
looked as if it had been cut directly into his skull with a very
fine chisel, lacquered, then buffed to a sheen. He didn’t quite
know what to do with his hands. Then he seemed to remember and
hauled a pad of paper from his coat pocket. “The Mercury
convertible. Gun-metal color.” He cleared his throat and smiled
some more.

“
What about it?”

“
Why—” He flapped at the air with
the pad but he didn’t lose the smile. “It’s down in the drive. Mr.
Decker thought it would be fine to bring it out to you.”

“
Oh. I was coming in for it this
afternoon.”

“
Yes. Certainly.” His voice was all
full of this smiling ha-ha. “Thought we’d save you the trip. Not
really necessary. Just so Decker’ll know I delivered it.” He
winked. “Not that he don’t trust me, y’know.”

I sighed. He pointed through the screen in the
sunporch, down at the parking lot in front of the hospital. “Right
there, she is. Drives like a dream, too.”

“
Thanks.” I didn’t like the guy and
I had kind of wanted to go pick it up myself. We shook
hands.

“
Well, that’s that, Mr.
Garth.”

I nodded. He swallowed, turned and left. As he
passed through the doorway leading into the ward, Leda brushed by
him. She looked at him, frowned, then came over to me.

She was an orgy of loveliness.

“
Who’s he?”

I told her. She wore a pale-green silk dress
that had black streaks running through it, and it clung. Her auburn
hair set fire to that green and when she moved—which she did even
when she didn’t—I felt like that Roman of Nero’s time at the feast
where the naked princess stepped out of the pie with a snake in her
teeth.

Leda moved over to the porch screen and looked
down. “I’ve seen that fellow before. He’s been hanging around out
here, with someone else. Just lately.”

“
Probably delivers other cars,
baby.”

“
Maybe.”

I went over and stood beside her. The big
fellow was just coming down the outside hospital steps. He joined a
smaller man and they went on down and sat on a stone bench to wait
for the bus. The smaller one had carrot-colored hair and even from
this distance a sharp, bright-eyed face. He was pale and
middle-aged.

“
We’ve got the car,” I told Leda.
“There she is. Like it?”

She turned, slid her arms up around my neck.
“Anything would do. I’ll run along now. You can say goodbye and
meet me at my place this afternoon.”

“
All right.”

“
I love you so damned much,” she
said. “Because you’re going to be a great sculptor and because
you’re just a little nutty. And, of course, you’re going to be
very, very rich.” She hesitated. “Eric, why don’t we get married
here before we leave? Then we wouldn’t have to hide. . .
.”

“
We don’t hide,” I said. “You know
that. Make believe. It’s all right this way, for now. We’ll be
married as soon as we get home.” I didn’t tell her I couldn’t take
the chance until I knew more about myself. I wanted her as my wife
but we’d have to wait for a while.

She poked the fingers of her right hand under
my belt, twiddled them. “All right.”

I laughed, pulled her close. For a moment she
was quite still. “This way,” I told her, “you’ll be able to make
sure I get all that dough.”

Her body moved against me and she wasn’t
breathing. Then she did breathe. Right up against my throat. Hot
breath and warm, damp lips. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, that’s
right.”

A psycho case back in the ward cursed
monotonously, then screamed with laughter.

Chapter 2

Leda was staying at a place in San Fernando
Valley. She had lived in California for some time but only at the
Veterans Hospital. She wanted a short chance to view the trade. She
had it. She seemed not to care for it. A ranch-type hotel, catering
to anyone who had a buck and a babe to spend it on. It also carried
babes without bucks and lonesome bucks looking for babes. The Dark
Mesa was just that. It overflowed with eucalyptus, green grass
shaved so it just tickled your ankles like an expensive deep-napped
carpet, and vine-covered, meandering, low-roofed, alley-wayed,
muted rooms with all their views on the inside. It was trellised,
fenced, scalloped, walled securely, and when you entered the front
door into what was probably the lobby, you got a
feeling.

I located Leda’s hideout. She had two rooms
and they were heavy like everything else at the Dark Mesa. It was
built to appeal to the senses. The same as Leda was. I somehow
distrusted her living here. But it hadn’t been for long and I’d
seen her most of the time. She was so completely frank about
everything, there was probably no reason for my distrust. If Leda
slept with any of the bellhops she’d have told me. It was a rotten
way to think, but that was her way.

“
You took long enough, Eric. I’m
all packed.”

There were two suitcases by the door. I hadn’t
expected this.

“
Packed?”

“
Yeah.” She stepped closer. She was
wearing a lemon-yellow terry-cloth robe belted tight at the waist.
Her auburn hair was thick and mussed and her eyes were oily, fully
of sleepy sunshine. Her skin was that way, too, and her lips
melted. In a way I would always hate that, hate her—for being drawn
to her the way I was. I didn’t want to let her go from my arms. Her
body was vibrant, lush beneath the robe, and the warmth from her
body reached me. I felt every full line of her pressed against me,
through the robe. She pressed hard. She worked at it and sometimes
it was as if she fought—like you’d mash two pieces of clay
together, grinding them together.

“
You like that,” she
said.

I squeezed her waist harder and harder. Her
eyes fogged and she started breathing through her teeth, hissing
her breath in and out, arching backward with the pain. “That’s
enough!” she said. “Stop, Eric!” Her voice was full of anxiety
now.

I quit, swallowed, searched inside me for the
patience every man is forced to be born with. I located enough to
grin and take her hands.

“
Why are you packed?”

Her shoulders still trembled with the ragged
breathing. She cocked her head, tipped her lips nervously with her
tongue.

“
We said we’d stay here for a
while.”

“
I want to leave,” she
answered.

“
Mean find someplace
else?”

“
No. I mean let’s head for
home.”

“
Florida?”

She nodded. “Uh-huh.”

It was quiet for a time. I couldn’t think of
what to say. We’d planned staying here for a time. The moments we’d
snatched together on the hospital grounds were just that—moments.
Hot and anxious in the shadows.

“
Figured we’d stay on a
bit.”