Quake (15 page)

    'Who says she's not in danger?'

    Stanley turned around and walked backward, studying the distant sky. Smoke from the burning house across the street still drifted up, but it didn't seem as heavy as before. There were no other fires near enough to worry about.

    'Long as a big wind doesn't come up and blow the fire this way…

    'It's not the fire,' Ben said.

    'Then what?'

    'You know. People. What if somebody finds her down there? mean, she's buck naked.'

    Not quite, Stanley thought, thanks to you.

    'A lot of guys, you know, might get ideas. They might do stuff to her, you know?'

    'You worry too much, Ben.'

    'There's a lot of sick people in this world. Rapists perverts…'

    'I don't think Sheila is in much danger from a guy that.'

    Ben smirked. 'You don't, huh?'

    'Nope. First, he'd have to find her. Then he'd have to get to her. A pervert's gonna be shit-outa-luck unless he's got a saw with him.' Stanley raised his own saw and waved 'Another good reason for taking this with us,'

    'Yeah, right.'

    'Can't rape her if you can't get to her. Can't get to her without a saw.'

    'I guess you're right,' Ben said.

    'Sure I'm right. Nobody's gonna touch Sheila till we get back.'

***

    They walked slowly so that Mary wouldn't be left behind but they still made better progress than the traffic on Laurel Canyon Boulevard. The cars and trucks northbound lanes moved very slowly. The vehicles in lanes, heading in the same direction as Clint and his companions, remained motionless for minutes at a time before creeping forward a few feet and stopping again.

    'There must be some real trouble up ahead,' Clint said.

    Em agreed. 'Bet it's Ventura Boulevard. That is a zoo, no matter what. It must be crammed.' Mary called, 'wait up, will you?'

    They watched Mary saunter toward them. She was even farther behind than usual. As she walked slowly she stuffed her plastic Pepsi bottle down.

    'She stopped for a sip,' Clint said.

    'Like we're not in a hurry,' Em muttered, and flicked a grin at him.

    Her hair hung in limp, damp strands. Her face was dripping. Her white blouse was twisted crooked by the pull of her purse strap. It looked drenched. It stuck to her skin and even to her bra, which showed through the fabric of her blouse. The blouse had come partly untucked from her skirt. Even her skirt appeared to be crooked.

    'Who won the wrestling match?' Em called out 'Very funny. You're a million laughs'

    'Part of my charm.'

    'Em,' Clint said. 'Hey.'

    'I know, "be nice."'

    As Mary ambled nearer, she gave them an injured look. sure wish you wouldn't walk so fast, you two.'

    Em shrugged one shoulder. 'I don't know about him but I'm walking as slow as can.'

    'It's not my fault if I'm not a fast walker,' Mary said 'And we wouldn't have to be doing this, at all, if we hadn't stopped over to your house and gotten my car destroyed by a couple of throw-backs. It was being nice to you that got us into this mess.'

    'Hey,' Clint said. 'That isn't necessary.'

    'Yeah,' Em added. 'You oughta try being polite for a change - or would that be too much for you?'

    'Screw you.'

    'That's sure a big improvement,' Em said.

    'Up yours.'

    'Do you know any two syllable words?'

    'Fuck you.'

    'No good. That's two words, one syllable each. Want another try?'

    Clint blurted out, 'Stop all this! Both of you cut it out okay? Women! Bicker bicker bicker.'

    'Whew,' Em said. 'That was certainly a sexist remark.’

    'I'm allowed. have a wife and daughter.'

    'I'll forgive you,' Em said. Grinning, she bumped herself against him.

    'Very cute,' Mary muttered. 'Anyway, it is her fault we lost my car.'

    'It's just as well,' Clint said. 'I think they did us a favor, slashing the tires.'

    'Oh, sure.'

    'Saved us from getting stuck in all this traffic.'

    'At least we wouldn't have to be walking.'

    'I would be walking,' Clint said.

    'We don' need no steenking car,' Em said, sounding very much like a Mexican bandito. 'Or badges.'

    Mary glowered at her. 'Yeah? Well what about air conditioning?'

    Em's head bobbed up and down a bit. 'That's another story,' she said. 'That'd be nice, air conditioning. could sure use that. Or a swim. How would you like to jump into a swimming pool right now?'

    'I'd rather jump in my car.'

    'You don't like swimming pools?' Em asked.

    'Not much.'

    'I love 'em. You got a swimming pool, Mr Banner?'

    'Nope.'

    'We don't, either. We've gotta have about the only house in the valley without one.'

    'Do you have friends with pools?' he asked.

    'Sure. I'm in them a lot, too, but it's not the same. You've gotta be invited over, for one thing. You can't just hop on in any old time you feel like it. And your friend has to be there so it's not like you can go in by yourself. With parents around. And maybe siblings. Thank the Lord I've never been blessed with a sibling. I've seen them. They'll drop whatever they're doing if they spot an opportunity to pester you. Frankly, would go buh-zonkers. Thank the Lord my mom hates men.'

    'But you don't,' Clint said.

    Em grinned up at him. 'I don't hate you.'

    'Thank you very much.'

    'Very cute,' Mary said.

    Still grinning at Clint, Em said, 'I think Mary believes I'd like to seduce you. That's ridiculous, of course. mean, I'm thirteen. I'm way too young to even think about seducing someone.'

    'Glad to hear it,' Clint said.

    'Also, have some fairly strong reservations about the entire sexual process.'

    'You have what?'

    'I mean - if what I've heard is true and have every reason to believe that it is - it doesn't sound like something would want to rush out and get done to me. mean, really. can't imagine anything grosser, if you want to know the truth.’

    'Well…' Clint said.

    'And talk about unsanitary.'

    'I think it's about time to change the subject.'

    'Bravo,' Mary said. 'I thought you'd never notice.'

    'What should we talk about?' Em asked. 'Mary! Have you got a boyfriend?'

    'A boyfriend?'

    'You know, a guy? A sweetie? A lover?'

    'None of your business.'

    'That's a no,' Em explained to Clint.

    'Not necessarily.'

    'It doesn't mean no,' Mary said. 'It means none of your business.'

    'Maybe if you had a slightly more cheerful temperament, you'd have more luck with the fellas.'

    Clint struggled not to laugh. Mary's open hand smacked the back of Em's head.

    Em yelped, 'Ah!' and flinched and staggered forward, ducking.

    'Hey!' Clint shouted, whirling to face Mary. 'What the hell is the matter with you?'

    'The little shit's got a big mouth!'

    'That's no call to hit her, for Godsake! She's just a kid!'

    'She's a little shit and I'm sick of her!'

    'Then take a hike!’

    'What?'

    'You heard me, take a hike.' Clint turned to Em. The girl stood nearby, bent over, a hand clasped to the back of her head. She had dropped her paper bag to the sidewalk, where the two water-filled Pepsi containers inside had made it tumbled over.

    Clint curled a hand gently against the back of her neck. It felt moist, and very hot. 'Are you okay?'

    'I seem to be getting knocked around an awful lot today,' she said, her voice quiet but steady.

    Clint felt a thickness in his throat.

    'Somebody oughta tell her it's not nice to hit people.'

    He felt heat and wetness in his eyes, and Em's bowed blonde head went blurry.

    'I hardly touched her,' Mary muttered.

    'Do you want me to hardly touch you that way?'

    'Don't,' Em told him. 'I don't want you hitting her.'

    'I wasn't planning on it, but I'm tempted.'

    'I'm sorry, okay?' Mary said.

    'You sound sorry.'

    'I won't do it again.'

    'Just leave. Just get the hell out of here.'

    Mary shook her head. She looked shocked, angry. 'I told you, won't do it again.'

    'You shouldn't have done it in the first place.'

    'I'm sorry! Okay? I'm sorry!'

    'So what?'

    She raised her chin and stiffened her back. 'You've got to give me another chance, that's what.'

    'No, don't.'

    'Yes, you do. You can't just send me away. You have to give me another chance.'

    'In what rule book does it say that?' Clint asked.

    'Everybody knows that.'

    'Not me. don't believe in second chances, apologies, any of that crap - not when you pull a stunt like whacking kid or…'

    'She's not your kid!'

    'She's someone's kid, and she's my friend, and if had done that to my kid Barbara you wouldn't be talking back to me right now about second chances, you'd be on your ass on the sidewalk bleeding!' He took a quick toward Mary and shouted in her face, 'DO YOU UNDERSTAND?'

    The color drained from her face. She staggered back as if bludgeoned. Her lips twitched. Her chin quivered. Tears filled her eyes. Em turned around and watched her.

    'I'm sorry!' Mary blurted. This time, she looked and sounded as if she meant it.

    'Who cares,' Clint said.

    'You can't just leave me here!'

    'Maybe we oughta tie her up,' Em suggested.

    'See what a bitch she is! See!'

    'She's kidding. Just stay away from us, that's all. Stay out of reach and keep your mouth shut, or else might tie you up.'

    Mary sniffed, rubbed her nose, and glared at both of them.

    Bending down, Clint picked up the sack that Em had dropped. 'I'll take this for a while.'

    'No, that's 'okay. don't mind carrying it.'

    'It's awfully heavy. I'll carry it. What about the food?'

    'What about it?' Em asked.

    'Do you still want to share any of it with Mary, after what she did?'

    Mary shifted her gaze from Clint to Em. 'Don't do me any favors,' she said.

    Em pulled her head back and made a face as if Mary were threatening her with a fingertip loaded with snot. Then she turned to Clint. She made a crooked smile. 'She can have stuff. don't care.'

    'I don't want any of your damn food.'

    'It'll be a long day,' Clint told her. 'You'll probably be getting hungry, so you'd better take something now. I'm not letting you anywhere near us once we start moving.'

    'Big deal. I'm not gonna eat any of your precious food. If you're gonna leave me, go. Get outa here.

    Clint nodded to Em. 'Let's go,' he said.

    They started walking again. After taking eight or ten steps Clint glanced over his shoulder. Mary was already following. She abruptly halted. Sneering, she said, 'Do you want me to count to a hundred first?'

    He shook his head. To Em, he said, 'Let's just pick up the pace a bit, and we'll leave her in the dust.'

    They both began to quicken their strides. They walked by side, Clint clutching the bag by its crumpled top. It felt heavy. He felt bad about letting Em carry it for such time.

    'You should've told me it was so heavy,' he said. 'It's not so heavy.’

    'It weighs a ton.'

    'I'll take it,' Em said, reaching out.

    'No, you won't.'

    'I don't mind. My book bag is a lot heavier, and carry it around all the time.'

    'That's okay. I'll carry this.' He kept hold of the bag, swinging it as they hurried along. When he glanced back, Mary was chugging along at a clip. 'I can't believe it,' he said. 'Now she's walking fast.'

    Em looked over her shoulder. 'She's scared of being left behind.'

    'Guess so. Knows we won't stop to wait for her anymore.'

    But they did have to stop. At Ventura Boulevard, the roads they needed to cross were jammed with traffic. The lights were dead, just as Clint had expected. And nobody was out in the road, trying to direct traffic. Horns blared. People yelled. Cars and trucks, packed bumper to bumper, crept through the intersection while some inched off onto the crowded lanes of northbound Laurel Canyon and others struggled to turn right from Laurel and squeeze onto Ventura. On the far side of Ventura, Laurel Canyon Boulevard was deserted. Its pavement stretched southward toward the hills, broad and sunlit and empty.

    'What a mess,' Em said.

    'It looks like they've got Laurel Canyon closed,' Clint told her.

    'Yeah?' She stood on tiptoes, but shook her head. 'I can't see it.'

    'There's no traffic at all over there.'

    'Figures,' Em said. 'Laurel is always getting shut down. If it isn't a mud slide, it's a car crash, or a fire, or an earthquake. Always something.'

    'We'd better be able to get through,' Clint said. He felt his lips pull back, baring his teeth.

    'We could go over to Coldwater Canyon.'

    'It'd be miles out of the way.' He shook his head. 'It has to be Laurel.'

    'I'm waiting!' Mary called, her voice only slightly audible over the noises of engines and sighing brakes and car horns and radio music and shouts.

    She stood about fifteen feet back, hands on hips, head tilted toward her left shoulder.

    'Stay where you are,' Clint ordered.

    'Are you gonna cross the street,' she called, 'or what?'

    'Let's go,' Clint said to Em. 'Stay close to me, and keep your eyes open.'

    For now, the lead cars on Laurel were motionless, waiting for small gaps between bumpers so that they might risk moving out onto Ventura for their right-hand turns. It looked like it might be a long wait; the traffic on Ventura seemed to be at a dead halt. With nobody likely to make a right turn and hit them, they only needed to worry about being crashed between cars that were waiting, going nowhere on Ventura. Clint stepped off the curb. There was room for one leg time between the front of a Dodge pickup and the rear Mazda. He stopped beside the fight front tire of the Dodge. The driver behind the windshield wore a cowboy hat and a cigarette dangled from a corner of his lips. He gave Clint wave. Clint smiled, called, 'Thanks,' and moved in front of the track. As he started to sidestep through the gap, he beckoned Em. She gave the driver a big smile, and came in. Mary failed to stay back. Don't worry about it, Clint told himself. The thing is to get across the street in one piece. Forget about her. She'd better just behave, that's all.

    The Escort and Cherokee in the next lane were bumper to bumper. Clint walked through a narrow space toward the back of the Escort, and found a Cadillac that hadn't pulled out of the way. The Cadillac's driver was a young woman who reminded him strongly of Mary. A career woman, severe in her business suit. Though she faced forward, she wore sunglasses. Clint couldn't see her eyes. He patted the hood with his open hand, and saw her jerk. Smiling, he gestured his intention to walk in front of car. She didn't respond.

    'We're coming through!' he yelled.

    Her lips seemed to tighten slightly. She looks like a real bitch, he thought. But she might be a perfectly nice person. Anyway, it'd take more than a bitch to run into you on purpose. It'd take a complete lunatic. It's probably safe, he told himself. If you're wrong, you get your legs crushed at the knees. He gestured for Em to wait. Then he stepped in front of the Cadillac. He took another step. It'll be all right, he thought. VROOOOOMMM. At the roar of the engine, he sucked a shocked breath and jammed his left hand against the hood and thought, This is it. Should've jumped! A moment later, as the roar faded to a quiet idle, he realized that the car had not suddenly lurched forward and demolished his legs. The gal had gunned it, all right. But she must've taken it out of gear, first. Gunned it in neutral, just to give him a thrill, and kept her foot on the brake. He looked at her. The pointed corners of her mouth turned upward. Clint hurried through. Safe on the other side of the Cadillac, he glared in at the driver. She continued to smile toward him. Em still waited.