'Mom?'
She glimpsed a pair of feet sticking out from behind nearby pile of rubble, but the feet wore black boots.
'MOM.' Barbara shrieked. 'MOM, WHERE ARE YOU? WHAT'S GOING ON?'
'Here I am, dearie.'
She flinched. The voice came from just behind her, it sounded like a man mimicking an old lady. She turned around fast. The dead man she'd found stretched out naked on the floor wasn't dead. He was no longer stretched out. He was squatting, leering up at her.
'Surprise,' he said.
Barbara felt chilly prickles on the back of her neck. I was right, she thought. One of the neighbors did go wild. He didn't have on a stitch of clothes. His eyes were as wild as any she had ever seen. From the fiery redness of his skin, he must've been out in the sun all day. Hands on his wideapart knees, he made no attempt to hide his erection; it looked as if it were pointing at Barbara's face.
'Hi, Mr Banks,' she said.
His leer slipped. 'You know me?'
'You live behind us. Over there.' She dipped her head in the direction of his house. 'With your mother.'
He frowned. 'How do you know that?'
'We've gotten your mail by mistake. I've walked it over to your house a few times. And I've seen you around. Are you all right?'
Good one, Banner. Sure he's all right. Slipped a few cogs, that's all. And any second he's gonna pounce on your sorry ass and do God only knows what to you.
'I'm hunky-dory,' he said. 'And you?' What'd he do to Mom? Ask? I don't think so.
'It hasn't been the best day ever,' Barbara said. 'For one thing, I got shot.'
His eyes widened. He suddenly looked eager and gleeful. 'Shot? Is that so?'
'Do you want to see?'
His gaze latched on the bloody side of her blouse. 'Under there?'
'Yes.'
'Show me.'
Hands trembling, she started to unfasten the two buttons that kept her blouse shut. 'That was a good trick,' she said 'Playing dead? I've used it myself.' Shouldn't have fallen for it. She opened her blouse. Banks nibbled his lower lip. He was still on knees, but now his lower end was swaying a little side to side. 'What's that?' he asked.
'A belt.' She reached for the buckle that was just by her right breast, and started to unfasten it.
'I took it off a biker. It's what holds my bandage on.''Ah.'
'You want the bandage off, don't you?'
'Sure. I want everything off.'
She tugged, and the belt went loose around her chest. The rag against her wound started to slip. She pulled and the belt fell out from under her blouse. She kept hold of its buckle. As the leather strap swayed, she shook herself slightly. The sodden T-shirt still stuck to her wound for a moment, then let go. It dropped and fell by her foot.
'It's sure bloody,' she said. 'That's all right.’
'Do you want it?'
'Show me where you were shot.'
'Okay.'
He gazed at the bloody side of her blouse. 'Show me'
'Off with the blouse.' He wiped his mouth with the back hand.
'First, you have to tell me where my mother is.'
He grinned. 'Dead. Deader than shit. Like all good whores.'
The words made a sick, cold hardness grow in the center of Barbara, somewhere just below her chest.
'I fucked her to death,' Banks said. Rolling his eyes upward and hanging his tongue out, he made quick thrusting motions with his pelvis.
Barbara whipped the belt at him. He jerked his hands up to block it, but wasn't quick enough. He cried out as the leather strap smacked the side of his face. Barbara leaped away from him, twisted around, and ran.
'You're dead!' Banks yelled.
She glanced back. He was already up, already chasing her. He flapped his big arms and brought his knees up high like a crazed man charging through surf. Barbara had a good headstart. She knew that she would be fine if she could make it as far as the patio. Clear of the debris, she would be able to pour on the speed. Banks wouldn't stand a chance of catching her.
Not far from the remains of the rear wall, she glanced back again. He was huffing along, staggering, farther behind than before. Not gonna get me. She leaped over a small pile of debris, right leg stretching out, foot pounding down. Driving a spike of pain up the middle of her foot. She squealed. Looking down, she saw the point of a nail come up through the top of her sneaker. Oh, my God! She didn't stop running. Her left leg stretched out and went down and landed on nothing horrible, but the pain in her right foot turned to ripping agony. Looking over her shoulder, she saw it kicking up behind her, a plank attached to the bottom of her shoe like a short wooden ski. The toe of the plank stubbed a block of plaster. Barbara fell headlong. Stanley hooked his right hand under the waistband of her shorts and lifted her out of the rabble where she'd fallen. She swung her arms, kicked, squirmed and squealed.
A few strides, and Stanley was clear of the mined house. He hauled her across the patio. Barbara squirmed and twisted so much that she started to come out of her shorts. When they were halfway down her romp, Stanley lowered her to the concrete and let go. She tried to scuttle away. Crouching, he caught her shorts by their sides and yanked them down to her knees. Her panties went down with them. Though they hobbled her, she kept on crawling. Stanley grabbed them and tugged them the rest of the way off. They took a shoe with them. He glimpsed the bloody bottom of her right sock. And stomped on it. Barbara shrieked. The pain seemed to freeze her on her hands and knees. Stanley grabbed the back of her collar. He jammed his other hand between her legs. With both hands, he picked her up. He carried her to the lounger. The lounger where she liked to stretch out and sunbathe. Where Sheila did, too. Both of them nearly naked in their bikinis - their bodies long and tawny and gleaming. He swung Barbara into position above the faded green pad, and let go. She dropped onto it. He peeled the blouse off her shoulders and down her back. He flung it away. She was facedown on the pad, naked except for one of her socks, one sneaker, and a pad of tissues attached with rubber bands to one of her forearms. Good enough, Stanley said. He spread her legs. No no no no! Turn her over. The best stuffs on the other side! You haven't even seen her tits yet. Standing by the side of the lounger, he bent and reached across her body. He grabbed her upper left arm and hip, then pulled. The lounger suddenly tipped toward him. Barbara was holding on to the aluminum frame under the pad.
'Let go!' Stanley yelled.
'No!'
He released her hip and jammed his thumb into the pulpy groove of her bullet wound. Her body jerked rigid and the blast of a gunshot crashed through the noise of her scream. Stanley jumped. He stood up straight. Judy again. Standing atop the cinderblock wall at the rear of the yard, her revolver pointed at the sky. Weed stood on one side of her, Sheila on the other. The three women looked the same as before, except that Sheila wasn't naked anymore. She wore a shiny, royal blue kimono that probably belonged to Judy. It was much too small for her. It wouldn't shut all the way, in front, and reached only a few inches down her thighs. Its sleeves barely reached to her elbows. Both of Sheila's wrists were wrapped with broad, bandages.
'Don't move a muscle!' Judy called.
Stanley shook his head. This'd be funny, he thought, if it wasn't such a pain in ass. She thinks she can hit me. She couldn't hit me at the pool and this is three times the distance. At least! But he didn't see how he could enjoy a good time with Barbara - not with them here. Why the hell hadn't the bitches stayed away?
For a while after escaping from them, he'd thought they would try to hunt him down. He'd hidden in the ruins of Sheila's house and waited, frightened but eager, planning to take them by surprise when they came looking. Take 'em by surprise and take 'em down. Have myself a ball. But they hadn't come. Barbara had showed up, instead. He glanced down at her. Her head was raised. She was looking toward the three women on the wall. Probably surprised to see her mother there, alive after all.
'Get away from her,' Judy called. 'Get away and walk toward us.'
>
'Go ahead and see if you can hit me!'
She took aim at him.
'Sure thing,' he called.
With a laugh, he bent over, grabbed Barbara and flipped her onto her back. The noise of a gunshot made him flinch. But he didn't bother looking up, because he knew that Judy wouldn't have risked hitting the girl. He gazed at Barbara's slick body.
Not in Sheila's league, he thought. But close. Close enough to make him ache to have her. He squeezed her breasts. They were smaller than Sheila's. Very hot and slippery and firm. The nipples felt like tongues probing the palms of his hands. Judy fired again. You're hurting my ears, you bitch. I'll drive nails into your ears, when I catch you. Forget about Judy, you've got Barbara. A bird in the hands. Birds. A couple of tits. She was gasping for air, gazing up at him with very wide eyes.
Scared to death, hurting bad. Turned on? 'Love it!' Stanley blurted. And thought, maybe I have got time. Just a quick one. In and out. Once, maybe twice. The way he felt, just once should be enough. I'll blow the roof off the joint. It could get me killed, he thought. And laughed, and jerked her legs apart and climbed onto the pad and knelt between them. The lounger wobbled, but held. Another gunshot. Was it nearer than before? If Judy's off the wall, running… She gets close enough, I'm dead.
He looked at the wall. Judy was still on top of it, and Weed still stood with her. But Sheila was in midair, dropping toward the ground. The breeze of her fall lifted the bottom of her kimono and pulled it open to the sash at her waist. My honey, Stanley thought. Come to me! Her feet hit the ground. Her legs bent. She did a very big somersault and came out of it sprinting over the grass toward Stanley. He glanced down at Barbara. Do it. One quick one. But he couldn't stop his eyes from being pulled back to Sheila. The sash of her kimono had come loose. The silken blue robe shimmered and flowed behind her like a cape. She raced toward him, long legs striding out, arms pumping hard, fists clenched. Her legs gleamed, alive with shifting curves of muscle under their sunburn and scrapes and welts. She had a long white bandage high on her thigh where Stanley had cut her with the saw. Except for the bandage, her legs were bare all the way up to her wispy tuft of golden curls. Her breasts lurched and jumped with the rough motion of her running. Stanley had always hoped to see her running without a bra. OH. Getting my wish, he thought. At last, at last. No wonder she always wore one. Look at 'em go. They looked splendid. She looked splendid. Not just her body, but her face. As weathered and battered as it was, it still looked glorious to Stanley. At once smooth and hard, delicate and powerful, silk and granite, innocent and sophisticated. But altogether beautiful, the face of a movie queen and a warrior goddess melded into one stunning, incredible Sheila Banner. My naked, caped crusader. Wonder Woman. Super Sheila.
MIGHTY MOM COMING TO SAVE HER KID AND SHE'S UNCHAINED, UNWIRED, ON THE LOOSE, COMING FOR ME - SHIT! Suddenly, watching Sheila dash toward him, Stanley was scared. Scared to death. Gonna get the fuck outa here. He was kneeling between Barbara's legs.
He started to scoot backward. Barbara reached out fast and grabbed him, one hand wrapping tight around his penis.
'Let go!' he shrieked. She tightened her grip. 'No!'
He jerked his head sideways. Sheila, dashing full speed, bare feet smacking loud on the concrete of the patio, stretched out her arms and took to the air. She dived into Stanley. Hugged him. Tore him down sideways off the lounger - from the feel of things, Barbara held on too long - and smashed him against the concrete. He had Sheila on top of him. Sitting on his belly. He was in agony, too breathless to scream. But he could feel the slippery heat of Sheila's buttocks against his skin. The tickle of her bush. The sharp iron blows of her fists against his face. He watched how her breasts bounced and jerked as she punched him. He watched her face, too. She had such fury in her eyes.
***
Banner, Barbara
English 11A
September 23
THE QUAKE AND I
I guess that a subject like 'what I did on my summer holiday would make a fairly lame assignment, that we all went through such an incredibly large earthquake just before the end of last semester. It turned out to really be the end of last semester. Anyway, I am glad to be back in school, even though not exactly filled with joy about having to write the story of the earthquake. It was like Charles Dickens said: 'It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.'
I was out on the streets in the driver's education car with the teacher and three other students when the earthquake struck. Mr Wellen took over driving, and took us on a detour to downtown, where we ended up stranded. We had quite an adventure trying to get home. I finally did get home, and discovered that our house had been completely knocked down by the quake.
My mother, inside the house at the time of the collapse, lived through it by jumping into our bathtub. The bathtub saved her life.
My father was at work in the Valley when the quake struck. Like me, he had all sorts of adventures trying to get home. He arrived about an hour after I did, and had a couple of strangers with him. The strangers were a grownup woman named Mary, and a thirteen-year-old named Em, short for Emerald. Dad was blind when he arrived home, having been injured by getting some paint in his eyes. It was a good thing he had Mary and Em with him, because they are the ones who led him home. Fortunately, Dad has since regained his eyesight.
As our house was destroyed, we all lived in the home of our neighbors, Judy and Herb. All of us stayed there together for about a week - and what a week it was! Judy and Herb were really neat people. Mary got to be very annoying, but Em and I became very good friends. We've gotten together quite a number of times since then, and we always have a fine time. Em's mother is real character, and sort of fun. Anyway, my parents and I found ourselves an apartment and are living there while our new house is being built, which is supposed to take about a year.
The worst thing about the quake is that so many people got injured and killed. Stuff fell on some of them. A lot of people, however, slaughtered each other during that first day, before the National Guard showed up. People can be so horrible when they think they can get away with things.
The best part about the quake is that learned a lot about things such as courage and loyalty and love.
I just hope that when the next major earthquake hits Los Angeles, I am out of town on a vacation.
the end
***
'Jeez, you left out a few things.'
'Yeah? Like what?'
'Like me.'
'Oh, you want me to tell what we did in the back of the pickup truck? That'd be cute. I'm sure Mr Kling would love that.'
'You could write about how we saved the woman from the bikers, and how she drove me to the hospital and saved my life.'
'I don't wanta write about that. I mean, it's great that she saved you, but… I sure wish she'd left me a note, or something.'
'She thought you were dead.'
'I know, I know. A very observant lady. But I spent like weeks thinking about all the awful things that might've happened to you. I figured maybe one of those street-vultures had probably eaten your pancreas for dinner.'
'Can someone eat a pancreas?'
'If someone's hungry enough. Sure. Why not?'
'Anyway, you're just gonna leave everything out of your paper?'
'I didn't leave everything out.'
'Almost everything. And all of the bad stuff.'
'If put all that in, my report'd be like hundreds of pages long and I'd never get it done. Besides which, I'm not about to go telling some teacher about that nut trying to rape me. And God knows, I don't want to incriminate anyone. It isn't as if we didn't kill quite a bunch of people, you know?'
'It was in self-defense.'
'Yeah, but you don't go around admitting to that sort of thing in an English paper.'
'Your mom really beat that guy to death?'
'With her fists.'
'God. It's hard to imagine her doing something like that. I mean, she's so…'
'Beautiful?'
'Well, you know, yeah. But nice, too. I mean, she's one of the nicest people I've ever known.'
'Just don't get her mad at you.'
'Great.'
'And my dad can be even worse.'
'You're sure they know I'm here?'
'Why? Are you worried? I mean, we're just doing our homework together, right?'
'Yeah, I guess so.'
'My homework's done. How about yours?'
'As if I had any.'
'What do you want to do, now?'
'I don't know.'
'The apartment house across the street has a pool in its courtyard.'
'It does?'
'I've never seen anyone using it, either. I bet we could sneak in and have it all to ourselves.'
'What if we get caught?'
'What're they gonna do, shoot us?'
'What time are your parents supposed to get home?'
'The movie gets out at ten, so we've got almost a whole hour. And by the way, they don't know you're here.'
'I could sure go for a swim, about now.'
Richard Laymon, Quake
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends