I keep putting moves on her, and she’s getting more bitchy all the time. But I figure I’ll get her, sooner or later. One way or the other.
The eighth day, Laveda’s with her. She tells me to keep my hands off Coral, and I figure it out. They’re a couple of dykes, right? Says she’ll cut off my cock…Yeah, well, she hasn’t yet. The cunt.
Anyway, after she lays this on me we go out to the garden and get naked, and Laveda starts this chanting shit, holding up a fifth of Remy. I was cold sober. I never do drugs. Maybe she had me hypnotized or something, who knows? But anyway, pretty soon I hear this other voice—a man’s voice. Coming out of nowhere. It says, “What are you doing?”
Laveda hands me the bottle. “Say, ‘I’m watering my head.’”
So I say it.
“Let me water the head,” the voice says.
“Tell him ‘no.’”
So I tell him no.
Then the dirt over the head starts to move, like a finger’s drawing in it. It draws the same design, that figure-eight with the x’s, like Laveda cut in the guy’s forehead.
“Now he may water your head,” Laveda tells me.
“Go ahead,” I say.
Something snatches the bottle out of my hand and it falls to the ground and the cognac spills out. That’s it. We get dressed, and the gals take off.
I spent a while out there looking for a speaker. Figured there might be one hidden around somewhere. But if there was, I didn’t find it.
The next morning, Laveda and Coral come back. First we strip down, then I have to dig up the head. What a fuckin’ sight it was. They made me take out the beans, dig’em right out of his ears and nostrils and mouth and…and out of his eyeholes. The beans’d sprouted a little, by then. Laveda held up this mirror and told me to put one of the beans in my mouth. “Don’t swallow it,” she told me. She didn’t have to tell me that.
I put one in my mouth, like she said, and held it in my cheek like a wad of chewing tobacco. Only it didn’t taste like tobacco. It tasted like a rotten fuckin’ corpse.
Anyway, I look at the mirror and bango, I’m gone.
Lacey knocked on the bathroom door and entered. “Breakfast is…”
On the floor where Hoffman had been, she saw six bandages: three hovering several inches above the tile, the others pressed against it. And she saw his silver penis and scrotum. He lay on his back, one handcuff around a leg of the sink.
“Just in time,” Hoffman said.
Dukane poured turpentine onto a washcloth. The cloth left his hand, moved through the air, and began to stroke the penis.
“He’s free ?”
“Just one hand,” Scott told her.
“All I need,” said Hoffman, rubbing himself to an erection. “Squeamish guys. Don’t want to touch my dick. How about you?” He flung the cloth at Lacey. It slapped her upraised arm, and she knocked it away. “Rather lick me? Wouldn’t get the paint off, but it’d get me off.”
“Shut up!” Scott yelled.
“Touchy touchy. This guy’s got a hard-on for you, hon. Don’t we all?”
Dukane pounded down, his fist hammering the emptiness near the bandages.
Hoffman grunted.
Lacey hurried from the bathroom. “Breakfast is on the table,” she called back.
She rushed into the kitchen, breathing deeply, fighting her revulsion. Afraid she might vomit, she bent over the kitchen sink.
“That guy’s an animal,” Scott said, stepping up behind her.
“Stop maligning animals.”
He laughed softly, and kissed her bare shoulder.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Okay, where was I? Oh yeah, just popped a bean in my mouth. Just like that, I’m gone. I look down and can’t see nothing—no legs, no dick, no nothing. I feel myself. I’m all there, just like normal, only I can’t see myself. I give Coral’s tits a squeeze and watch’em bunch up, and Laveda stabs me in the back with a fuckin’ dagger.
Hurts like shit. I go down, wondering why they went to all the trouble making me invisible if they’re gonna kill me.
Laveda says, “I warned you not to touch her.” Then she tells me I’ll be okay, I can’t be killed’less I’m hit in a vital place like my heart or a big artery or I’m burned, or something; I’ve drunk at the river and I’m all powerful and I’ll heal up in no time flat. She tells me to get up, and I do. I can feel myself bleeding for a while, but pretty soon it stops.
She tells me to take the bean out of my mouth. I do, and presto I’m there again.
Long as I’ve got one of the beans in my mouth, she says, I’ll be invisible. When I spit it out, you can see me again. But if I swallow one, it’s so long Sammy for weeks, maybe months. It’ll digest, see, and some of it’ll get in my system. Long as any’s in my system, I stay invisible.
Then Laveda lets me know what it’s all about. She’s got big plans for me. Tomorrow, I’m supposed to head off for D.C. and do a job on the president, the V P, the speaker of the house. Presto, instant chaos. That’s just the thing for Laveda and her bunch. They’ll be free to do what ever they want. And it’ll be a cinch for me, right? I can go anywhere, do anything. I can’t be stopped. I pretend it’s a great idea.
Well that night, I get a few ideas of my own. Laveda’s right, I can go anywhere and do what ever I please; I could think of plenty of stuff I’d rather do than spend the rest of my life knocking off people for The Group.
So I strip and pop a bean in my mouth, and do a little exploring. I explore my way right into Laveda’s room, which turns out to be just down the hall. Coral’s there, too. Just like I figured.
They’re sitting around gabbing. Turns out, I’m the first guy they’ve done this number on. Laveda’d tried it herself, a year ago, and Coral’s saying how she’d like a crack at being invisible.
Laveda sort of puts her off. I think I know why, too. Reason she hasn’t gone around making lots of her people invisible. It gives them too much power. She wants all the power for herself, wants to stay in control. She just made me invisible to get a job done for her. And I figure I’m probably expendable, she’ll wipe me out once I get it done.
Well, they finally leave off their jabber and get down to rolling on the bed. You should’ve seen those two go at each other. Grunting and groaning, licking, eating each other out. I almost popped my load, just watching. Must’ve gone on for an hour. I wanted to jump right on’em and stick it in the nearest hole, but I held off. Didn’t want to mess with Laveda. The gal’s bad news.
They finally get done. I see Coral making for the john, so I get in quick ahead of her. She starts taking a shower. Okay, I know Laveda’s out in the other room and if she gets me, I’ve had it. But I’m invisible, right? How’s she gonna hurt me if she can’t find me?
So I climb into the shower with Coral. She suspects something when the door slides open, but before she has a chance to yell I bash her head on the tile and knock her out. More than out, dead. So then I lay her down in the tub and have my fun. You ever let it go after holding back for an hour? Nothing like it. Thought I’d bust, I came so hard.
Okay, I get out of the tub and dry off—don’t want to be tracking water, you know. Then I get scared’cause I see myself in the fuckin’ mirror! It isn’t me, really. The place is all steamy and there I am, like a hole in it. Bad news! I wanted to get outa there. So I hurried and finished drying, and snuck open the door a crack, just enough to see out. Laveda was on the bed. Looked like she was asleep.
I spent a lot of time watching her, wondering if I oughta turn off her switch. I mean, I knew I should. The bitch and her whole bunch would be after me for doing her playmate, and I’d be up shit creek if they ever got their hands on me. But I tell you what, I was scared. You’d be scared too. She’s not what you’d call normal. I figured, what if I made a try for her and I couldn’t kill her no matter what I did? She’s got this magic, right? I finally figure I’m not gonna chance it. I’ll just pull a vanishing act.
So I sneak ou
t and get back to my room for the rest of the beans. Then it’s adios.
No sweat at all, getting out of the compound. I walked right past the guards. Nothing there for them to see, except the beans in my hand, and those aren’t big enough that anybody’d notice. The one in my mouth, that’s invisible. Guess’cause it’s mixed up in my spit. I figured out, after a bit, I could pop’em all in my mouth when I needed to hide’em. Smart, huh? Better than leaving the things behind when I wanted to sneak in someplace: lost two, that way.
Okay, so I’m out of the compound and walking down this road. It’s three miles, all of it through Group property, till I get to a highway. Remember now, I’m not only bare-ass, I’m barefoot. You try walking three miles barefoot, sometime.
I wanted a car bad. You get out in the sticks around midnight and see how many cars go by. Zip. And the ones that did come along, how was I gonna stop’em? I finally made it to a farm house, dog tired. Speaking of dogs, that’s where I ran in to my first. I don’t know if they can see me or what, but they sure as shit know where to find me. This one at the farm raised hell, even took a nip out of my leg before I killed it.
Farmer Joe came out to snoop around, and that gave me a chance to get inside. I waited till he was back in bed, then got a knife and went upstairs and slit his gullet. Got the wife, too. They had three kids. Just one was a girl. I had a good time with her.
After that, I wanted to sack out. But what am I gonna do with the bean in my mouth? Don’t want it falling out while I’m asleep. So I just went ahead and swallowed it.
I woke up, after a couple of hours, when this car pulled up in front. There’s Laveda, and half a dozen guys from the compound. The guys are wearing these weird masks. What they are, I figure out later, they’re infrared gadgets. Put on one of those suckers, and you can see me. See my heat image. Those bastards from The Group think of everything.
Okay, I figured they wouldn’t know for sure I was there. They might think I just did my business and moved on, long as they didn’t see me. So I hid. I ran over to the boys’ room, and dumped the crap out of their toy box and hid in there. Sure enough, they didn’t find me. Spent half an hour turning the house, then gave up.
But the fuckers set the place on fire. Insurance, I guess. Just in case they’d missed me. Tells you something, don’t it? Sure told me something. Told me they wanted my ass dead.
I just about cooked, but I got out of that place. Their car was gone. Great, I’m home free. Then I catch a slug in the shoulder and go down. This is it, Sammy. They’ll move in now, and Laveda’ll get your dick just like she said. Except they don’t move in. Just this one guy comes out from beside the garage, decked out with a rifle and those infrared goggles. I play dead, and he’s dumb enough to come close and it’s bye-bye dummy. I grab the rifle out of his hands and ram it through his teeth and blast off the back of his head.
Then I go over to the garage and hotwire one of Farmer Joe’s cars, and get the fuck out of there.
Lacey threw open the bathroom door. “A car’s coming!”
“Cops?” Dukane asked.
“I don’t think so.”
She ran ahead of them, pressing her shirt to her damp breasts.
After cleaning the breakfast dishes, she had given in to her need to clean herself. She filled the sink with warm water, then checked the windows to be certain the snipers remained in their normal positions. Returning to the kitchen, she used liquid detergent to wash her hair. Bent over the sink to rinse, she worried about leaving the house unguarded, imagined the front door bursting open, men with guns rushing in. As soon as the soap was out of her hair, she grabbed a hand towel and again checked the windows.
Everything looked all right.
But she didn’t like the kitchen, felt blind at its sink, and vulnerable. So she filled two pans with water and carried them into the living room. Facing the front window, she took off her clothes. She sponged herself with warm soapy water, and wiped the slickness away with cool water from the other pan. It felt very good. Maybe later, once the men were done in the bathroom, she would ask them to move Hoffman out and she could take a real bath. When was the last time? Yesterday? Just before going out to dinner with Scott. Only yesterday. It seemed like weeks ago.
She squeezed the sponge against the nape of her neck and felt the cool water stream down her back. It slid over her buttocks and between them, and trickled down the backs of her legs. If Scott were here, he could wash her back…
She imagined him coming into the room, and smiling with delight when he saw her. She would turn to face him. He would kiss her mouth, her neck, her breasts. His tongue would prod her nipples.
Rather lick me?
The memory of Hoffman’s words smashed her fantasy. She tossed the sponge into the water and picked up a dish towel. She patted her legs dry. She rubbed between them. She looked around at the cut on her buttock. It was slightly red at the edges, but scabbed over. It hadn’t been much more than a scratch, after all. But it itched more than the others that threaded her body. She resisted an urge to rake it with her fingernails, but rubbed it gently with the towel.
As she started to dry her arms, the sound of a car engine froze her. She glanced out the window. A black Rolls Royce sped up the road toward the house.
Whipping the towel around her waist, she scooped up her shirt and raced for the bathroom.
Now Scott and Dukane were rushing past her, pistols ready. Scott checked the side window. Dukane kicked over a water pan as he dashed to the front. He crouched at the window.
Scott ran to the hall.
Lacey pulled her shirt on, grabbed her revolver off the rocking chair, and knelt beside Dukane. The car had stopped in front of the door—no more than ten yards away. Through its tinted windows, she saw moving, indistinct shapes.
A door flew open. A naked woman was thrust from the car. She fell facedown, and the door slammed shut.
Her back and rump were striped with raw, bleeding wounds. She pushed herself up. On her knees, she looked at the window. Lacey moaned, cold with sickness as she recognized the swollen, bloody face. Jan. The flesh of her chest and belly was tattered. Blood spilled from open wounds where her nipples should have been, flowed from her vagina, sheathing her thighs, forming a puddle on the ground between her knees.
The rear window slid down three inches. Lacey saw the crown of a bald head inside the car.
“We want Hoffman,” a man’s voice called through the opening. “Give us Hoffman, and we’ll let the rest of you go. If you’re…”
Dukane fired. With the first shot, the pale scalp erupted and dropped from sight. The second shot smashed into the window, halfway down, blasting out a cone of glass but not breaking through.
The car sprang forward.
Until that instant, Lacey didn’t see the cord—the white electrical cord around Jan’s left ankle and running up to the crack at the bottom of the car door. It snapped taut. Tugged Jan’s leg from under her. Dragged her, spinning and bouncing, alongside the car.
Lacey’s own scream drowned out the screams from Jan. Covering her ears, she lowered her head and shut her eyes tight.
Finally, she raised her head. The car had turned around and was now speeding back. Its body hid Jan from her view until it turned right and headed up the entry drive. Then she glimpsed the tumbling carcass.
Throwing herself away from the window, she grabbed the nearer pan and vomited into it. As convulsions wracked her, she realized vaguely that her towel had fallen away. It didn’t matter. Her mind reeled at what she’d seen. Would they do the same to Nancy? To her? Lacey’s stomach was empty, now, but she strained with dry heaves. Her mouth dripped hot stomach fluids. Her eyes dripped tears.
“You stay with Lacey,” Scott told Dukane. “I’d better go in and get the rest of Hoffman’s story.”
Dukane helped Lacey to the couch. Lying on it, she felt the soft fabric against her buttocks. She pulled a pillow down to cover her bare groin.
“What about Nancy?” s
he asked.
“There’s nothing we can do.”
Dukane handed the pan ties and shorts to Lacey. “We could give them Hoffman,” she said.
He turned away, and sat on an edge of the coffee table. As Lacey put on her clothes, he said. “They won’t let us go.”
“Why not?”
“Several reasons. First, we killed some of their people: the cops in Tucson, the sniper, the guy in the car just now. They can’t let us get away with that. Second, we’ve been in contact with Hoffman and they’ve got to assume he talked, maybe gave out the formula for becoming invisible.”
“Did he?”
“He did. That, plus plenty of other information. The Group can’t allow that. How many reasons is that?”
“Two.”
“Three, even if the other reasons didn’t exist, they’d want us for the sport. The people in The Group are evil. I’ve had some prior experience with them. I know. They love the power, love to make people cringe at their feet, to torture and kill for their own pleasure.”
“Doesn’t sound good,” Lacey said.
“It’s not.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Okay, I’m tooling along in Farmer Joe’s car, keeping a sharp look out for the bunch from the compound. But I never do see’em. The farmhouse was north of the compound, so they must’ve figured I’d keep going that way. Well, I didn’t. I went east. Got clean away.
But it gets to be daylight, and there’s some traffic on the highway, and I start getting queer looks from the jerks in the other cars. Doesn’t take me long to figure out why. I’m invisible, right? So who’s driving my car?
I don’t give much shit where I’m going—long as it’s not back to the compound—so I pull into a Denny’s and climb in back of the first car I find unlocked. Wherever they’re going, I’ll go. So I’m sitting there in the backseat and along comes not just momma and poppa, but three brats. Being invisible’s no cinch. When the door opens, I knock this little bastard on his ass and get out of there. The kid’s bawling, tells his dad somebody pushed him, and the old man gives him a whack for fibbing. Nice guy.