Midnight's Lair

  'I'll get the batteries for you.' He checked a flashlight package. 'Size D,' he muttered, then sidestepped, bent over, and began picking up Everready twin-packs. 'How did it happen?'

  'A fire in the main complex. The elevators are gone.'

  'So how're you planning to get in?'

  'The natural opening.'

  'That's blocked off.' He dumped a handful of batteries into the cart, and crouched to get more.

  'My friend's buying some tools.'

  Brad whistled softly. 'Going into Lizzy's Tomb,' he muttered.

  'Is that what they call it?'

  'Around here. Wow. How come you're doing it?'

  'My daughter's trapped.'

  'Jesus.' He added more batteries to the growing pile. 'Isn't that a job for the police?'

  'Probably. But we're doing it.'

  'You and who else?'

  'Hank. His daughter's trapped, too. There's a guide, Lynn. She's going to show us…'

  'Lynn Maxwell?'

  Small world, Chris thought. But it didn't come as much of a surprise to learn that a girl like Lynn was known by a pushy young man like Brad. 'You know her,' she said.

  'A friend of a friend. If Lynn's showing you the way, who's the guide in the cave?' He frowned. 'It isn't Darcy Raines?'

  Chris's heart thumped, and she felt heat rise to her face. 'Yeah, Darcy.'

  'Shit. Better her than Lynn, though.'

  Chris stared at him. 'What the hell do you mean by that?'

  'She's got it all over Lynn. She's really got her act together, you know? If I had to get trapped in that damn cave, I'd want her to be the one in charge. I don't want to insult anyone, but Lynn's a flake.'

  I'm starting to like this guy, Chris thought.

  He dropped another handful of battery packs into the cart. 'Okay, that makes twenty pairs. Have you got twenty flashlights?'

  She nodded. 'How do you know Darcy?'

  'Seen her around. I took her tour. We've had drinks together a couple of times. I take it you know her.'

  'I know her.'

  'Look, if she's stuck in the cave… Could you people use an extra hand?'

  'You want to come along?'

  'I'd like to help.'

  Chris stared him in the eyes. He met her gaze for a moment, then looked away.

  'Hey, I'm aware I was acting like a creep a little earlier. I was just fooling around. I'm not always like that.'

  'God, I hope not.'

  He let out a short laugh.

  'Yeah, you can come with us. An extra body might come in handy.' Chris picked up a plastic lantern. 'Want to get me a six volt battery for this?'

  'Sure. Hey, since we're going to be partners in this adventure, how about telling me your name?'

  'Chris Raines.'

  Smiling, he held out his hand. As Chris shook it, he frowned. 'Raines?'

  'Darcy's old lady.'

  'Now I know you're shitting me.'

  ***

  Lynn folded her arms across the back of the passenger seat, and said, 'It's sure taking her a long time.'

  'She had more to buy.'

  'You interested in her?'

  'We just met,' he said.

  'So? You are, aren't you? Interested in her.'

  'Some reason I shouldn't be?'

  'No, I'm not saying that. Just curious. She's not too bad looking for a woman her age. She must be up there pushing forty, don't you think? I mean, Darcy's twenty-one, so…'

  'You're so interested, why don't you ask her?'

  'None of my business.'

  That's right, Hank thought, and wondered what was going on with Lynn. She'd started acting pretty chummy while they were in the hardware store. When they'd returned to the car, Lynn had waited by the passenger door and given him a sharp glance when he opened the door to the back seat for her. Now, she was trying to run down Chris.

  He supposed it was nothing more than Lynn feeling like a third wheel and wanting to usurp Chris's position.

  Too bad Lynn's necessary at all, he thought.

  Well, she'd claimed she wouldn't go into the cavern. If she didn't change her mind about that, she'd be out of the way before much longer.

  'About time,' Lynn said.

  Hank looked through the side window and saw Chris leave the sporting goods store. A man in jeans and plaid shirt walked beside her, pushing a loaded cart. Just outside the store, Chris stopped and spoke to the man. She reached into the cart, took out a pair of red shorts, and stepped into them.

  'Miss Modesty,' Lynn muttered.

  Hank felt a small pull of guilt, wondering if he was the reason she'd bought the shorts.

  Once the pants were on, Chris scanned the parking lot, spotted the car, and started forward. The man with the cart stayed with her.

  'Gee, that's Brad what's-his-face. God's gift to women. Too bad, Hank.'

  Ignoring the remark, he climbed out and went to the rear of the car. He had the truck open before they arrived.

  'Hank,' Chris said, 'this is Brad.' As they shook hands, she explained, 'We met in the store. He knows Darcy.'

  'I'd like to come along and help, if it's okay with you.'

  'Fine.'

  Quickly, they put the warm-up suits, lantern and fuel, and a bag that was heavy with Tropical Chocolate bars into the trunk. The flashlights and batteries were dumped onto the back seat next to Lynn. Chris took her shoes and socks into the car with her.

  Brad got into the back with Lynn. As they greeted each other, Hank drove out of the parking lot. Chris slipped her sandals off and started to put on her socks.

  'I figured it couldn't hurt,' she said, 'having another man along. Especially when it comes to breaking through those walls.'

  'Yeah. It'll help.'

  When her shoes were on, Chris turned around. 'Hand up some of those batteries and flashlights,' she said.

  Chris, Lynn and Brad loaded the flashlights while Hank drove as fast as he dared towards Mordock Cavern.

  ***

  'I wonder if they're at the wall, yet,' Paula said.

  'It's too soon,' Kyle told her. He wished she hadn't mentioned the wall. He didn't want to think about that.

  Darcy's group had no sooner started off than Kyle began to regret his decision not to sneak away while he had the chance and dispose of the pick axe. So what if they figured out he'd been the one who got rid of it? No big deal. They weren't crazy, they wouldn't do something like torture him to make him tell where he'd put it. They'd be pissed, but so what? If they couldn't find the pick, they'd have no way to get through the wall.

  It's too late for that, now.

  But not too late to stop them.

  If Dad was here, he'd stop them. No way would Dad let them break in there.

  I'm just a kid.

  If I try to stop them and they go in anyway, they'll know I'm involved.

  Just forget it, he told himself. Play dumb. Dad'll catch the blame. Nobody's going to think I had anything to - do with it. I'm just a kid.

  ***

  With Dad out of the room, Amy changed. She stopped struggling against the ropes binding her to the bedframe. Some of the terror seemed to fade from her eyes. They met Kyle's eyes and seemed to plead with him. The noises coming from her taped mouth were no longer frantic grunts and moans; they were soft sounds, each rising at the end like a question.

  Naked, Kyle stepped to the end of the bed.

  He saw Amy glance at his erect penis, then lift her gaze to his eyes. Shaking her head slowly from side to side, she made humming noises. There were no words, but Kyle knew that she was trying to talk him out of it.

  It would be interesting, he thought, to find out what she has to say.

  Interesting to hear her beg.

  He crawled up the bed. Her legs were wide apart and he could put it right into her - just get a little lower and it'll run right in. But there was plenty of time for that, for everything, and he wanted to hear what she had to say.

  He climbed over her thighs and sat down.
He felt her pubic mound pushing against his rump, felt a moist pad of hair against his skin. Her torso gleamed. Her breasts rose and fell as she panted for air.

  Amy was holding her head up, staring at him and humming, 'Mmmm. Mm? Mmmmm?'

  Kyle leaned forward. The head of his penis prodded him above his navel. He reached towards Amy's breasts, realized the feel of them would probably make him lose control, and placed his hands on the slick hot skin above them.

  You could fingerpaint on her sweat, he thought.

  He looked into her eyes. 'You want to say something?'

  Her head jerked up and down.

  'I'll take the tape off your mouth,' he said. 'But if you scream or make any loud noises, you'll be sorry. Real sorry.'

  Amy nodded some more.

  'Besides,' he added, 'it won't do you any good. The room's soundproof.' He didn't know that, but it wouldn't surprise him. Dad had gone to a lot of trouble fixing up this room. 'Nobody'd hear you but me, and I'll hurt you bad.'

  Kyle slid a fingernail under a corner of the tape, picked, caught the tape between his thumb and forefinger and ripped it from her face. She winced and flinched. The flinch felt good for Kyle.

  'Let me go, okay?' she whispered. 'You're just a kid. You don't want to…' Her chin started to shake. Tears made her eyes shine. 'That man hurt me a lot. He… he did bad things to me.'

  'He's my dad.'

  'But you're not like him. I can see that. You're a good boy. You don't want to get into something like this. Untie me, okay? Untie me and help me get away. I'll give you anything you want, and I'll never tell on your father. I promise. Okay?'

  'What'll you give me?'

  'Anything.'

  'I want to fuck you.'

  'Okay. That's okay. That's fine. Untie me, and I'll make it real good for you. It'll be the best, okay?'

  This is terrific, Kyle thought. She'll make it good for me. She wouldn't give me the fucking time of day if I didn't have her like this, if we met on the street or something.

  She'd been nice to him at the restaurant.

  But he could just imagine the look of scorn in her eyes if he had dared to ask her for a date.

  Don't be ridiculous. Get lost.

  They were all like that - all the pretty ones, anyway. School was full of them. Lovely, slender, laughing girls you could never have. They looked right through you. You were a sub-species, a lower form of life, best ignored. Don't feed it, maybe it'll go away.

  'If I let you go,' Kyle said, 'will you marry me?'

  That one threw Amy. For a moment, she looked confused. 'Sure. Of course I will. I was engaged, but I broke it off. You're a handsome young man. I… I'd love to be your wife.'

  'Will you let me kiss you?'

  She nodded.

  Kyle put his hands on the mattress and bent down. He felt her nipples touch his chest. He kissed her mouth. At first, it was shut tight. Then, as if she decided she'd better make this good, she opened her mouth. Her lips writhed against his. She sucked on his mouth and moaned as if consumed with passion.

  Kyle caught her lower lip between his teeth, bit into it and sat up fast, tearing it off. Amy's eyes bulged. Blood gushed over her teeth. Kyle slapped a hand across her mouth in time to muffle the scream.

  He blew out the lip. It shot onto her face and stuck beneath her left eye, clinging there like a fat slug.

  Keeping her mouth covered with his left hand, he used his right to punch the side of her head. His pounding fist crashed against her cheek, her temple, her eye, then her cheek again. When he took his hand off her mouth, she didn't try to scream. She just coughed, spraying up blood.

  He grabbed the pillow case and shook it until the pillow dropped out. Then he stuffed an end of the cloth into her mouth. He crammed more and more in until her mouth was full. He flapped the rest of the case up so it hid her face.

  She kept coughing, but the sound was quiet. Each cough made her body jerk under Kyle, made her breasts jump and sway. He scooted backwards and pressed his face between her breasts, smelled her sweet rose perfume and her sweat, felt her breasts patting his cheeks as she squirmed and coughed.

  It was too much. He wasn't even in her yet, and it was too much. One knee was between her legs but the other was still outside and he wanted to be in her but her breasts were buffeting his face, whapping his cheeks, and he grabbed them and squeezed and she squealed into the cloth and he clamped himself to her thigh and slid against it, gasping and pumping.

  When he had his breath back, Kyle got to his hands and knees. He looked at the clock on the nightstand.

  He'd been with Amy less than fifteen minutes.

  Plenty of time left, he thought.

  Time for everything.

  But it went by so terribly fast.

  Kyle heard a soft whistle. He looked over his shoulder. Dad was standing near the wall. Apparently, he had entered the same way as before, through the space left by the mirror. He was shaking his head, grinning. 'Guess it does run in the family.'

  'Do I have to stop?' Kyle asked.

  'There'll be other nights. Right now, we've got to clean up and take care of business.'

  Kyle crawled off the bed. He stood and looked down at himself. Most of his skin was smeared with blood. 'You really did a number on her,' Dad said.

  'Yeah.' He wasn't embarrassed by the remark. He felt as if he'd been expected to do a number on her, and had fulfilled some kind of unspoken obligation.

  'I'd ask if you enjoyed it,' Dad said, 'but I guess that goes without saying.'

  'When can I do it again?'

  'We'll discuss that later.' He came over to the bed and gazed down at Amy's sprawled body. 'What'd you cut the ropes for?'

  Kyle shrugged. 'She was out cold.' Or dead, he thought. 'I didn't see any harm.'

  'Was she unconscious before you took the tape off her mouth?'

  'Well, no. But she didn't scream or…'

  'Did she have anything interesting to say?'

  Kyle grinned. 'She said she'd marry me if I let her go-'

  Dad snorted. 'That's a good one. Amazing what they'll come up with.'

  'You talk to them sometimes?'

  'Not so much anymore. After a while, they all sound pretty much the same. They beg and whine. They offer you money, sex - which is a yuck considering you're going to get that anyway.' He reached down and pressed fingertips to her wrist. 'Still has a pulse,' he said after a few moments.

  'Really?' Kyle was surprised.

  'That's all right. It's better not to kill them.' He looked at Kyle and raised an eyebrow. 'You're a lot like your grandfather. He always left a real mess. I'm not that much into savaging the bitches. Just use enough force to subdue them, you know?'

  Kyle felt heat rush to his face. 'I'm sorry. I just…'

  'No, it's all right. If you like it that way, fine. It's a matter of personal taste. But you're going to have to replace the sheets and things out of your own pocket.'

  'Okay.'

  Dad nodded toward the bathroom. 'Now get in there and take a shower, son. Make it quick, but get all the blood off. Be sure to get it out from under your nails.'

  'What are we going to do with her?'

  'Nurse her back to health and give her a bus ticket to Omaha.'

  'What?'

  'You'll find out. Take your shower.'

  ***

  Kyle stepped into the bathroom. On the metal shelf over the sink were Amy's toothbrush, a small tube of Crest, a bottle of roll-on deodorant, a hairbrush with a clear pink plastic handle and quite a lot of wispy brown hair tangled in its bristles.

  What are we going to do with all this stuff? he wondered.

  What are we going to do with her?

  She isn't even dead. Weird. He'd felt sure she was dead before he even took the pillow case out of her mouth.

  Dad says it's all right, though. Dad knows what he's doing. He's done all this before, plenty of times - enough times to get tired of listening to them.

  Kyle leaned forward and
studied his face in the mirror above the sink. He looked for a difference in his eyes. They seemed pretty much the same as usual. He wiggled his eyebrows. The skin on his forehead felt stiff because of the partly dried blood. He smiled. His whole face felt stiff. A single, short curl of hair clung to the blood near the corner of his mouth. He left it there, and turned away from the mirror.

  A bath-towel was hanging on a bar to dry, but a clean one remained neatly folded, clamped in place on the wire rack. The bath-mat was draped over the side of the tub. He spread it onto the floor and stepped on it. It felt damp and cool.

  A wash-cloth had been left hanging over the cold water nozzle. A small, plastic bottle of shampoo stood on an edge of the tub. In the soap dish was one of the tiny white bars provided by the hotel.

  Kyle picked up the wash-cloth.

  Amy had used it, rubbed herself all over with it.

  He pressed the thin, damp cloth to his face, breathed through it, sniffed it. It smelled faintly of soap, nothing more.

  But he was flooded with memories of his last time in Darcy's room, the feel and aroma of her wash-cloth, the cool dampness of her bath-towel against his bare skin.

  He turned on the water, washed his hands under the spout, then pulled the knob to make the shower come on. He stepped into the tub and pulled the curtain shut.

  The heavy, hot spray of water felt good. The blood seemed to melt off his skin. It slid down him, turned pink around his feet and ran towards the drain.

  As he soaped himself, he imagined Darcy tied to the bed in the other room. If it had been Darcy instead of Amy tonight, it would've been even more incredible. In a way, it had been Darcy. Once the pillow case hid Amy's face, he'd been able to fill his mind with the slender, beautiful guide. That made it better, but he'd known all along he was just pretending.

  If it had been Darcy tonight, he thought, it'd all not over now.

  I don't want it to be just an hour with her.

  Days, weeks.

  It'll never happen, he realized, sinking inside. But getting her for a while, maybe for a whole night… that could happen.

  Something to shoot for.

  Wearing soap lather like a suit of white foam, Kyle shampooed his hair. He rinsed, then checked his fingernails. They looked clean.