Tuck grinned at Dana and Warren, who were sitting across from each other at the kitchen table. Blushing, Dana watched Warren’s face turn scarlet.
‘Anyway,’ Tuck continued, ‘he was out near the street and he heard Agnes’s machine gun. Or felt it under his feet. So he figured shit was happening down in the tunnel. Fearing for the life of his true love, he cast paranoia to the winds and ran to her rescue . . . No, Dana did, but Warren busted the door open for us.’
‘Hey,’ Dana protested. ‘Warren distracted it. That’s what saved me. Tell her.’
‘Dana says to tell you Warren saved her by distracting the beast.’ Tuck listened, nodding, then smiled at Warren. ‘Janice says she always knew you were a secret hero.’
Warren blushed again. ‘Tell her thanks.’
‘He says thanks.’
8. Sandy’s Long-Distance Call
Smiling at the sound of his voice, Sandy asked, ‘Am I speaking to the one and only Blaze O. Glory? . . . Yep, it’s me. How’ve you been? . . . Yeah, I’ve been missing you, too . . . A very long time . . . Five years . . . Well, I had to go looking for my son . . . No, nothing like that. I’m sure he just ran off on his own. He’s always had sort of a wild streak . . . No, I’m afraid not. But I’m sure he’s probably getting along just fine, wherever he is . . . The reason I called, I had a little accident. I’m going to be off my job for a couple of weeks, and wondered if you’d like to have a house guest . . . I don’t know about modeling, I’m pretty banged up . . . Well, we’ll see . . . I can probably be there day after tomorrow . . . That’ll be great, Blaze.’ Her throat tightened, and she felt tears well up in her eyes. ‘I’m really looking forward to seeing you again, too.’
9. Visiting Hour – Owen, Part III
Bending over the bed, Darke kissed him gently on the mouth. Then she eased her lips away and whispered, ‘See you later, okay?’
‘Okay.’
‘By the way, I’m Karen.’
‘Karen?’
‘Karen Marlowe.’
‘That’s a nice name,’ Owen said.
‘I don’t know how nice it is, but it’s mine. Thought you oughta know.’
10. Tuck’s Long-Distance Call – Part V
‘Hi, Dad. How’s the cruise? . . . I’m fine . . . Really. Thanks to Dana. She saved my tail when the beast tried to nail me . . . Yeah, I know . . .’ Tuck nodded as she listened. Though she was smiling, her chin began to tremble and tears filled her eyes. ‘I love you, too, Dad.’ She sniffed. She took a deep breath. Then she said, ‘So, have you knocked Janice up yet? I’m hoping for a little sister.’
Chapter Sixty-Two
Sunday Night
Sitting with the gift on his lap, he flinched at the sudden brightness as lights came on behind the house and inside the big and little pools. Soon, three women came outside and walked toward the little pool. It was bubbling and steaming.
Last night, nobody at all had shown up.
He’d thought that maybe they stayed away because the one he liked best hadn’t been pleased by the gift he’d left in her room.
But she was back, tonight. So was her friend, the smaller woman with the very long yellow hair.
With them was a woman he had never seen before. She was small and thin, with very short yellow hair. She had an injured hand that was wrapped in white.
His mother was not with them.
He felt glad about that.
The one he liked best looked a lot like his mother, looked so much like her that he always felt very strange when he saw her. But she wasn’t his mother.
Mother had been here twice. The first time, he’d felt shocked and happy and frightened, all at once. He’d felt an urge to run up to her and hug her, but was afraid to do that because maybe she was still mad at him. She’d been very mad at him the day he hurt her and ran away. Maybe she was still mad, and looking for him because she wanted to hurt him back.
He knew that his mother could be very dangerous when she was mad.
He’d felt the danger of her both times when she was here and came hunting for him. If she’d caught him, she would’ve hurt him. Both times, though, he’d crept away and escaped from her.
Tonight, he wouldn’t need to creep away.
Mother was gone, so there was no one to fear.
At the edge of the hot spa, Dana crouched and set down the bottle of wine. And remained in a crouch, aching too much to move. Earlier in the evening, she’d joined Warren for margaritas, then joined him for barbecued ribs, then joined him in bed. They’d compared wounds. They’d laughed and wept and made love. Because of her injuries, Warren had been very gentle with her. Though she’d wanted to spend the entire night with him, she’d finally asked for a ride home.
There’d been those troubles with the prowler.
Tuck and Darke were likely to use the pool or hot spa, and Eve, laid up in the hospital, wouldn’t be around to protect them.
Still crouching, Dana watched Tuck place a stack of folded towels on the concrete within easy reach of the spa. Then Tuck took off her robe and let it fall. Wearing her doe-skin bikini, she stepped down into the bubbly water. ‘Ahhh,’ she said. ‘Nice and hot.’
Darke stood on the edge. Balancing on her left foot, she lowered her right foot into the water and dipped her toes in.
‘It’s clothing optional, you know,’ Tuck told her.
Darke nodded. She wore a skintight black tank suit, cut low in front and high at the hips. ‘I think I’ll keep mine on for now,’ she said. She lowered herself into the water, keeping her bandaged hand high.
‘You have a question?’ Dana asked her.
Darke laughed.
‘Are you getting in?’ Tuck asked Dana.
Groaning, Dana stood up straight. ‘I don’t think so. I doubt that hot, dirty water would do my wounds any good.’
‘Dirty water?’ Tuck protested.
‘You’re in it.’
Laughing, Tuck asked, ‘How bad are you hurt?’
‘I’m pretty messed up.’
‘We’ll be the judges of that,’ Tuck said. ‘Let’s see.’
Dana looked across the pool.
‘Give our Peeping Tom a treat,’ Tuck urged her.
‘What Peeping Tom?’ Darke asked.
‘Nothing to worry about,’ Tuck said.
Dana reached behind her neck, grabbed the Beast House T-shirt with both hands, and pulled it over her head.
Holding the shirt by her side, she asked, ‘What do you think?’
Tuck and Darke stared up at her.
She wore nothing.
She knew that she looked as if she’d been been thrown into a pit full of rabid cats. Most of her scratches were shallow. Only a few had been bandaged. In the several places where she’d been bitten, however, she was patched with thick pads of gauze.
‘Well,’ Tuck said, ‘I guess you could soak your feet.’
‘More than that,’ said Darke. ‘You look perfectly fine, Dana – all the way up to the knees.’
Watching from the bushes, he moaned.
The one he liked best was naked.
And hurt.
Confused for a moment, he wondered if he had done it to her. The other night when he took the gift to her and . . . ? He had touched her while she slept. He had caressed her. But he hadn’t hurt her.
He hadn’t dug his claws into her skin.
Hadn’t bit her.
But seeing the wounds and bandages on her body, he thought about how it would feel to have her under him, to put his teeth and claws in her, to taste her and bite her with his big mouth and with his little mouth. He wondered what it would be like to shove up into her . . .
A hulking white shape lurched out of the bushes across the pool, roaring. It carried someone’s severed head.
The head swung by its hair. The face looked beaten and chewed. Much was missing.
‘Holy shit!’ Tuck yelled.
As the creature bounded around the far end of the pool, Dana dropped her T-shirt,
ducked and grabbed the wine bottle by its neck. She raised the bottle like a club. Wine burbled out, spilling down her arm and splashing the concrete.
Darke sprang out of the spa. Hunched over slightly, she glanced this way and that as if seeking a weapon.
The beast rushed around the pool’s corner and came straight at Dana.
‘Get out of the way!’ Tuck yelled.
Dana leaped aside.
The beast dodged and rushed in.
She swung the wine bottle. It exploded against the side of the beast’s head.
Growling, the monster swung the severed head at her.
It slammed her in the face.
As she started to fall, she heard the roar of Tuck’s .44 magnum.
She crashed against the concrete and flung herself over, hoping to roll clear.
She was face-down when the beast caught her. It thrust a warm, slimy arm under her shoulder and down her chest. As the arm clamped her between her breasts, the beast’s other hand clutched her between the legs.
It hoisted her off the concrete. Hugging her sideways, her back tight against its chest, it swung around.
Tuck in the spa with her magnum and Darke running toward Dana whirled by in a blur.
Then the spinning stopped.
The world jerked and bounced as the beast ran along the edge of the pool.
‘SHOOT IT!’ she cried out.
But she didn’t hear another gunshot.
Tuck must’ve missed, that first time. Now, she was probably afraid to try again – afraid of hitting Dana.
Oh, my God, don’t let it take me away!
Chapter Sixty-Three
Dream Kiss
In his dream, Karen was kissing him.
A deep, wet kiss, her tongue thrusting into his mouth.
Owen squirmed under the weight of her body. His hands roamed feverishly up and down the smooth bare skin of her back.
Coming up out of the depths of sleep, he realized it was more than a dream.
She was here with him.
Here in the darkness of his hospital room.
Here in his bed.
On top of him.
The mouth eased away, leaving his lips wet.
‘Karen,’ he whispered.
‘Owie.’
Chapter Sixty-Four
Dana
He’ll kill me when he gets done.
Kill me, eat me.
Maybe not.
Maybe he likes me too much.
Oh!
Maybe he’ll keep me alive.
If I can stay alive, maybe I can escape.
Or they’ll rescue me.
Tuck and Darke.
No, no, he lost them.
Long time ago.
Way too fast for ’em.
OH!
Did they give up, go home?
Call the cops?
Call Eve, guys.
Call Eve.
OH!
Get Eve out of the hospital.
She’ll find me.
She’ll save me.
Eve of Destruction!
OH!
She’ll nail him.
Nail him good.
Nail him!
OH!
OH!
YES!!!
FRIDAY NIGHT IN BEAST HOUSE
Richard Laymon
Contents
Title Page
About the Book
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Mark would do anything to get a date with Alison. Anything. Alison has just one condition: they have to spend one night in the legendary Beast House. To Mark, a night alone with her seems like a dream come true . . . but if there is any truth in those stories, it might just prove to be a nightmare.
Chapter One
Mark sat on the edge of his bed and stared at the telephone.
Do it! Don’t be such a wuss! Just pick it up and dial.
He’d been telling himself that very thing for more than half an hour. Still, there he sat, sweating and gazing at the phone.
Come on, man! The worst that can happen is she says no.
No, he thought. That isn’t the worst. The worst is if she laughs and says, ‘You must be out of your mind. What on earth would ever possess you to think I might consider going out with a complete loser like you?’
She won’t say that, he told himself. Why would she? Only a real bitch would say a thing like that, and she’s . . .
. . . wonderful . . .
To Mark, everything about Alison was wonderful. Her hair that smelled like an autumn wind. Her face, so fresh and sweet and cute that the very thought of it made Mark ache. The mischief and fire in her eyes. Her wide and friendly smile. The crooked upper tooth in front. Her rich voice and laugh. Her slender body. The jaunty bounce in her step.
He sighed.
She’ll never go out with me.
But jeez, he thought, why not ask? It won’t kill me to ask.
Before today, he never would’ve seriously considered it. She belonged to another realm. Though they’d been in a few classes together since starting high school, they’d rarely spoken. She’d given him a smile from time to time. A nod. A brief hello. She never had an inkling, he was sure, of how he felt about her. And he’d intended it to remain that way.
But today at the start of lunch period, Bigelow had called out, ‘Beep beep!’ in his usual fashion. Alison hadn’t dodged him fast enough, so he’d crashed into her with his wheelchair. Down she’d gone on the hallway floor at Mark’s feet, her books flying.
‘Jerk!’ she yelled at the fleeing Bigelow.
Mark knelt beside her. ‘Creep thinks he owns the hallways,’ he said. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Guess I’ll live.’
And the way she smiled.
‘Can you give me a hand?’
Taking hold of her arm, he helped her up. It was the first time he’d ever touched her. He let go quickly so she wouldn’t get the idea he liked how her arm felt.
‘Thanks, Mark.’
She knows my name!
‘You’re welcome, Alison.’
When she stood up, she winced. She bent over, lifted the left leg of her big, loose shorts and looked at her knee. It had a reddish hue, but Mark found his eyes drawn upward to the soft tan of her thigh.
She fingered her kneecap, prodded it gently.
‘Guess it’s okay,’ she muttered.
‘You’ll probably have a nice bruise.’
She made a move to pick up one of her books, but Mark said, ‘Wait. I’ll get ’em.’ Then he gathered her scattered books and binders.
When he was done, he handed them to her and she said, ‘Thanks, Mark. You’re a real gentleman.’
‘Glad I could help.’
He stared at the telephone.
I’ve got to call her today while it’s fresh in her mind.
He wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans, reached out and picked up the phone. He heard a dial tone. His other hand trembled as he tapped in her number. Each touch made a musical note in his ear.
Before pushing the last key, he hung up fast.
I can’t! I can’t! God, I’m such a chickenshit yellow bastard!
This is nuts, he told himself. Calm down and do it. Hell, I’ll probably just get a busy signal. Or her mom’ll pick up the phone and say she isn’t home. Or I’ll get the answering machine. Ten to one I won’t even get to talk to Alison.
br /> He wiped his hands again, then picked up the phone and dialed . . . dialed all the numbers.
His arm ached to slam down the phone.
He kept it to his ear.
It’s ringing!
Yeah, but nobody’ll pick it up. I’ll get the answering machine.
If I get the answering machine, he thought, I’ll hang up.
Hang up now!
‘Hello?’
Oh my God oh my God!
‘Hi,’ he said. ‘Alison?’
‘Hi.’
‘It’s Mark Matthews.’
‘Ah. Hi, Mark.’
‘I, uh, just thought I’d call and see if you’re okay. How’s your knee?’
‘Well, I’ve got a bruise. But I guess I’m fine. That was really nice of you to stop and help me.’
‘Oh, well . . .’
‘I don’t know where Bigelow gets off, going around crashing into everybody. I mean, jeez, I’m sorry he’s messed up and everything, but I hardly think that’s any excuse for running people over, for godsake.’
‘Yeah. It’s not right.’
‘Oh, well.’
There was a silence. A long silence. The sort of silence that soon leads to, ‘Well, thanks for calling.’
Before that could happen, Mark said, ‘So what’re you doing?’
‘You mean now?’
‘I guess so.’
‘Talking on the phone, Einstein.’
He laughed. And he pictured Alison’s smile and her crooked tooth and the glint in her eyes.
‘What’re you doing?’ she asked.
‘The same, I guess.’
‘Are you nervous?’
‘Yeah.’
‘You sound nervous. Your voice is shaking.’
‘Oh, sorry.’
‘The answer is yes.’
‘Uh . . .’
‘Yes, I’ll go out with you.’
I can’t believe this is happening!
‘That’s why you called, isn’t it?’
‘Uh, yeah. Mostly. And just to see how you’re doing.’
‘Doing okay. So . . . I’ll go out with you.’