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Authors: Richard Laymon

No Sanctuary (19 page)

BOOK: No Sanctuary
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How could he have let himself imagine such things?

It had been Bert under him, but sometimes it was Andrea; Andrea naked on the trail to Dead Mule Pass, but not dead, not decapitated, alive and writhing, gasping and clutching at him as he rammed; and then she was Julie sprawled beneath him in nothing but her knee socks, Julie his stepmother, but she was no more dead than Andrea or Bert and those were her hands tugging at his buttocks to urge him deeper into her wet, hugging heat. Rick had thought, this is wrong, this is bad. But he couldn’t help it. He loved it. He was having Bert and Andrea and Julie all at once.

It’s these damn mountains, he thought, ashamed now that he’d allowed such fantasies to take hold. It’s the mountains and not enough sleep last night and hiking all day in the heat. It’s what happened with Julie all those years ago. It’s Jase and Luke and Wally and knowing what they’d do to the women if they got the chance. Or is it what I would like to do to them?

Hadn’t Bert suggested as much this morning?

You’re scaring me, she’d said. What tbe hell is going on inside your head?

Your imagination is revolting.

Sounds to me like you’re projecting your own fantasies onto those guys.

Yeah? And what was I projecting when we caught them spying on us with their binoculars? Was that my imagination, too?

But you have to admit, he thought, your imagination’s been throwing some real curves lately. Some wild stuff. Dreaming up that slaughter on the trail, turning Bert into Andrea, which was bad enough but understandable; turning her into Julie, which was sick.

Need to get home. All this will stop when I’m home.

God, we almost turned back this morning before the girls came along. We’d be home tonight, or at least out of the damned mountains, maybe in a hotel at Tahoe, but I had to open my big mouth and talk Bert into staying. To watch out for the girls. To watch them, more like it. Had nothing to do with protecting them.

What did I think, I’d get in their pants? Fat chance of that, unless I bashed in Bert’s head ...

Or slit her throat.

“Oh my God!” Bert gasped. She stopped abruptly and grabbed his arm.

Rick felt a surge of dread that she’d somehow read his mind. His face burned. She’s not psychic anymore than I am, he told himself. And I’m not. That trail massacre was mind garbage, paranoia, not a premonition.

But it came roaring back through his head—the sprawled naked bodies, the mutilations, the death—when he saw what Bert was pointing at.

Jase, Wally and Luke.

The three were crouched side by side among the rocks of an outcropping that jutted into the lake.

They had their backs to Rick and Bert.

The way they peered over the top reminded Rick of old westerns, of outlaws waiting to ambush a stagecoach.

“Those bastards,” Bert muttered.

Rick pulled her off the path and into the trees, where they couldn’t be seen if the boys should turn around.

“Those assholes are spying on the girls,” she said. Her eyes looked fierce and unafraid.

“Close up, this time.”

“Can you imagine? If that was them with the binoculars, they actually came all the way back down.”

“Obviously liked what they saw.”

“The nerve of those ...” A red hue washed over her face. “You don’t think they watched us, do you?”

Rick shook his head. “No. They don’t know where we are.”

“They would’ve, though. If they’d known.”

“Yep.”

“I’d like to rip out their eyes.” -

“It could come to that,” Rick said. “They might not be happy, just looking.”

“We’d better do something. Maybe we can sneak up and take them by surprise.”

“And then what? I forgot to bring my black belt.” And my revolver’s in my pack. “I don’t think this is the right time to confront them. We’d be... catching them red-handed. I don’t think they’d like that at all.”

“Screw what they’d like.”

“If they feel cornered, they might decide to go for broke and have at us. I seriously doubt that we’d come out on top. Let’s just stay out of their way. If we circle the lake, we can come around from the front and join up with the girls, and those three scums won’t know that we’re onto them.”

“That makes sense,” Bert said. “Yeah. That’s what we’ll do.”

 

“Guess we can write this place off,” Bert said when they came to the stream. “Now we’ve gotta stick with the girls.”

“Maybe we can all come over here.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she muttered. “It’s no good now, anyway.”

“I’m sorry.”

She shrugged and looked at him. “It was nice, though, wasn’t it?” .

“Fantastic.”

“At least we had that.”

 

They hiked through the trees, staying away from the shoreline path, until they heard faint splashing sounds. Then Rick led the way to the edge of the lake. They ducked behind a deadfall and peered out through the rotted limbs.

“Oh great,” Bert said. “Just great.”

Andrea and Bonnie were directly across the lake from them, knee-deep in the water near the shore. Bonnie, in her yellow bikini, was bent over and splashing herself. Andrea, in a black bikini, stood closer to the shore, rigid and hugging her chest as if she were freezing.

Rick turned his eyes to the jut of rocks where the boys had been. He couldn’t see them.

“So where are the guys?” Bert asked.

“Still there, probably. Enjoying the view.”

“Nice of the girls to be so obliging.”

“They don’t know they’re being watched,” Rick said.

Bonnie waded farther out. The water climbed her stout legs. Her lips peeled back in a grimace when the cold lapped her groin. She turned to face Andrea. She spoke, but Rick couldn’t quite make out her words. When Andrea replied, her voice carried clearly across the water. “Yeah, sure it’s not so bad. Tell me that when you’re pissing icicles.”

“Come on,” Bert said. “Let’s get going.”

Rick glanced toward the rocks. This time he did see a shadow. Small. Fleeting. Even imagined a low, cackling laugh. He exhaled slowly and shook his head in disbelief. What was the matter with him? The place was giving him the creeps, that was the matter. At least The Three Thugateers were flesh and blood. He could handle them okay. But skinny shadows? No way.

Bert was moving forward. Had she seen him staring at the rocks like some crazy lunatic? In case she had, Rick said, “I wish the guys would show themselves.”

Andrea turned around and waded toward shore. Her hips swayed. Her small, firm rump flexed with each step. Her bikini pants were low enough for Rick to see the shadow of cleavage between her buttocks.

“Quit stalling,” Bert said. “You’re no better than those peeping Toms.”

“I just hope they don’t do anything but look,” he said. “We’d better get over there fast.”

“Before the girls get dressed,” Bert added.

She is psychic.

With Bert in the lead, they stayed away from the shore, and only pale bits of the lake were visible through the dense trees to the right. A few times, Rick heard the girls’ faint voices. There were occasional splashing sounds.

Finally, Rick saw bright orange in the distance. “Looks like a tent,” he said.

Bert nodded.

They made their way into the clearing. Their own packs were on the ground near the side of the tent. The girls’ packs were propped up against rocks, and open. Rick saw no one, not even when he turned toward the lake. He felt himself knot up.

Oh my God, he thought.

We would’ve heard shouts, he told himself.

Not necessarily. If the guys took them by surprise ...

He headed for his pack.

“Going for your camera?” Bert asked. The smile fell off her face when she saw Rick’s expression. “What’s wrong? You don’t think... ?” Her head snapped toward the lake. “Bonnie?” she called. “Andrea?”

“Over here,” Bonnie called from the direction of the lake.

“You guys get lost or something?” Andrea asked.

Bert looked relieved. She glanced at Rick and rolled her eyes upward.

“False alarm,” Rick muttered.

He followed Bert to the lake shore and they found the girls on a sunlit slab of rock that slanted gently into the water. They had their towels beneath them. Bonnie was sitting up, hands on her raised knees, looking over her shoulder as they approached. Andrea was stretched out, face resting on her crossed arms. Her bikini top, untied so the strings wouldn’t leave marks across her back, was pressed between her body and the towel. The side of her breast was bare and pale. Rick forced himself to look away. He glanced to the left. The cluster of rocks where the boys had been lurking was farther away than he had supposed—maybe fifty yards off. With the binoculars, though, they’d still have a fine view.

“Don’t look around or anything,” Bert told the girls. “Try not to show any reactions.”

Frowning, Bonnie turned herself around to face them.

Andrea lifted her head. She glanced from Bert to Rock.

“The guys are here,” Rick said.

“You’re shitting me,” Andrea muttered. “Our guys? The chain-gang?”

“They’re down the shore a ways,” Bert explained. “Or they were, when we saw them about half an hour ago. They were hiding behind some rocks, watching the two of you while you were in the water.”

“Jesus.”

“You’re serious?” Bonnie asked. “They’re right here at the lake?” She kept her eyes on Bert. Rick admired her restraint in not trying to spot them. “They were way up the trail above us,” she said. “They came all the way down just to...”

“Must’ve really liked what they saw,” Andrea said.

“Where are they?”

Bert turned so her body would block the boys’ view, raised a hand to her belly, and pointed.

Bonnie still didn’t look that way. Andrea tried, twisting her head to look over her shoulder and rolling just a bit. Her right breast unmashed and lifted partway out of the limp bikini. Bert sidestepped into the path of Andrea’s view. Unable to see past her, Andrea eased down again. She picked up the ends of her bikini strings, bent her arms up high behind her back, and started to tie them.

“To get over there,” Bonnie said, “they had to go right past us.”

“You know, this really sucks.” Andrea finished tying her bikini. She sat up, adjusted her top, and crossed her legs. “Do you realize how much this sucks? These scrotes came all the way down the trail. They were almost to the top. They came all the way back down and snuck past and spied on us like a bunch of fucking voyeurs. And we’re not supposed to know they’re around. What are they planning on, anyway? They obviously aren’t gonna leave, not this late in the afternoon. It not only sucks, it’s extremely creepy.”

“Aren’t they going to pitch tents or build a fire or anything?” Bonnie asked.

“If they do that,” Rick said, “they’ll give away that they’re here.”

“What they’re gonna do,” Andrea said, “is keep hidden and sometime during the night they’re gonna move in.”

Bonnie looked up at Rick. “What are we going to do?” He thought about the gun in his pack.

“I’ll tell you what I think,” Bert said. “Why don’t you two get into some clothes, then the four of us will take a walk and pay the guys a visit.”

Andrea grinned. “Fuckin’ A, right!”

onnie looked grim. She nodded. “Yeah, let’s face the bastards.”

“I agree,” Rick said. “If there’s going to be trouble, better to get it over with. While it’s still light out and we can see what we’re doing.”

“What they’re doing,” Bert added. “And let’s not go empty-handed.”

Chapter Sixteen

“Damn it,” Bert said. “I have to pee.”

“Pick a tree,” Rick told her.

She scanned the woods around the clearing. “What about our three friends? I certainly don’t need an audience.”

“They’re probably still near the place where we spotted them. I don’t think they’d come in close. Not while it’s still light out.”

“Want to come along?”

“I thought you didn’t need an audience.”

“You don’t have to watch.”

How do I get out of this? he wondered. The girls were inside their tent getting dressed. Bert going off to urinate would give him just the chance he needed to grab his revolver out of the pack.

 

Bert reached a suitable clearing, well away from the trail, bent over her pack and took out some toilet paper and a small plastic shovel. She frowned. And bent her head to get a closer look at what she saw on the ground.

A paw print. A large one.

“My God,” she breathed, almost forgetting why she was here in the first place. Her stomach lurched and a warm patch began to spread between her legs. She clamped her muscles tight to stop the patch getting any bigger.

Bert rocked back on her heels. Trying to come to terms with what this new danger would mean to them. She leaned forward to examine the palm-size pawmark imprinted in the sand.

Relatively new. A few hours old at the most. Another one, to the right of the first, lay about eight inches ahead. She looked back and saw two more.

“My God,” she whispered again. Cougar, by the look of it—and one helluva size. It’s in the vicinity. Or was last night. Just passing through? Or is this its patch?

No sign of it now, anyway. She got to her feet. Slowly. Thinking, one cougar and you got more cougars ... Great. That’s all we need. Should’ve listened to Rick and gone to Mauii instead.

Scooping up her pack, paper and trowel, Bert raced back to Rick.

“Hey,” she panted, pulling up short. She took a couple of deep breaths to steady the tremor in her voice. “Looks like we got company, Rick. Big cat type company...”

“Oh yeah?”

“Sure. Come see for yourself. I know cougars are around in the mountains, the Rockies, mainly. But let’s hope this is a one-off that’s strayed from home...”

She tried, but she couldn’t convince herself that this cougar was a one-off. One vacation she’d helped out at a feline breeding center in Rosamund. From her time there, she’d learned enough about big cat behavior to know that there was probably a mom cougar, and a bunch of kitty cougars holed up in the rocks somewhere near.

 

Rick followed her back to the clearing.

Apart from coyotes and maybe the occasional wolverine, he’d discounted other wildlife. Keep to the track, he’d thought. No problems if we keep to the track. But if it looks like we got mountain lions tracking us down as well as the teen trio, then maybe it’s time to bring out the gun ...

BOOK: No Sanctuary
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