“Ouch! Shit! Would you stop that?”
“I’ll do whatever I want. You’re lucky I haven’t killed you.”
“I won’t be nearly as much fun if I’m dead.”
“Who says so?”
Sherry turned her head and glared at him.
Toby smiled. “When you’re dead, I’ll eat you. If you give me any shit, I’ll eat you before you’re dead.”
Her insides seemed to turn cold and shrivel.
“I liked it.”
“Huh?”
“The taste. Duane’s taste.”
I’m gonna be sick.
“What I figured, I’d chew the skin off his fingertips so nobody’d be able to get prints off him. Only thing is, I liked it. So I kept on eating. After his fingertips, I worked on his face for a while.”
“Shut up.”
He punched her arm again.
“I sampled him all over. Know the best part?”
Gritting her teeth, she shook her head.
“The weenie.”
She slammed on the brakes. As the van skidded to a halt, she threw open the door and leaned out.
“No you don’t!” Toby yelled, grabbing her arm.
She choked and gagged, wracked by heaves, but not much seemed to come up except thin, hot fluid. Her throat burned. Her eyes watered. She felt as if her lungs and heart were being wrenched from her body.
Behind her, Toby laughed.
Then he said, “Just kidding about the weenie. You really think I’d bite a guy’s dick? No way. What do you think I am, some kinda pervert?”
The moment Sherry finished vomiting, Toby pulled her arm. She sat upright and shut the door.
“Get any on you?” Toby asked. He sounded merry.
“I…don’t think so.” She’d forgotten about the wound beneath her breast, but now she felt blood trickling out of it and dribbling down her midriff. She looked down. Her breast was bare. She drew the blouse over it, then pressed her left hand against the wet fabric.
“Get driving before somebody comes along,” Toby said.
He still clutched her right arm.
“Let…go of my arm.”
He released it.
Sherry wiped the tears from her eyes. Then she wiped her wet mouth and chin.
“Let’s move it!”
She put both hands on the steering wheel and stepped on the gas.
“See that alley up ahead? Let’s give it a try. Maybe we can find a nice home for Duane.”
“In an alley?”
“In a dumpster.”
Chapter Twenty
Sherry steered into the alley. The straight, paved lane was bordered by block walls, fences, and the doorless carports of apartment buildings. Each building seemed to have four to eight carports in a row, with a couple of dumpsters near one end or the other.
Though patches of darkness were scattered down the length of the alley, the areas near the dumpsters were mostly well lighted.
Nothing moved except windblown scraps of paper and foliage, and, far ahead, an empty shopping cart that drifted toward them as if steered by an invisible derelict.
Sherry saw no people.
But most of the apartment buildings had second stories with windows—and sometimes balconies—overlooking the alley. Not many of the windows were illuminated.
Toby, hunched forward in the passenger seat, twisted his head this way and that as if searching for snipers. “I don’t like this,” he said. “Somebody picks the wrong time to look out a window…”
“Everybody’s probably asleep.”
“Not everybody. No telling who might be watching us.”
“So what do you want to do?”
He was silent for a few seconds. Then he said, “See if you can find an empty place in one of these garage things.”
“Then what?”
“Pull in. Gonna let that thing hit us?”
“Guess not,” Sherry said, and veered right to avoid the shopping cart. As it clinked and rattled past her side of the van, she saw that it wasn’t entirely empty. It held a single, white sneaker.
A sneaker very much like the one she had lost.
But that was miles from here.
It can’t be mine, she told herself.
“Did you see that?”
“Huh?”
“A shoe in the shopping cart.”
“So?”
“I’m missing a shoe.”
“So?”
“Can we get it?”
“You outa your mind?”
She stopped the van.
“Keep moving.” Toby grabbed the back of her neck. “You don’t need a shoe. You’re lucky you’ve got one. Look at me. Thanks to you, I haven’t got shit.”
“Should’ve kept your clothes on.”
“You’re the one locked the door.”
“I didn’t lock it. I just shut…Ow!”
“Get moving.”
She took her foot off the brake and drove slowly forward.
“Oughta make you wear this shitty robe, see how you like it. The bitch got her blood all over the back of it. Makes me itchy.”
Not wanting to be punched again, Sherry kept her mouth shut.
Near the end of the block, Toby pointed through the windshield and said, “There!”
At first, the space appeared to be empty. As Sherry drove closer to it, however, the rear end of a tiny sports car came into view.
“Keep going,” Toby said.
They came to the end of the block without finding an empty carport.
Sherry stopped at the cross-street. No cars were approaching from any direction.
“Keep going,” Toby said.
She drove across the street and entered the alley on the other side. It seemed no different from the alley they’d just left behind.
But this one had an empty carport—one of four stalls in a row beneath the second apartment building on the right.
“All right!” Toby blurted.
Sherry swung in and stopped the van.
“Kill it,” Toby said.
She shut off the headlights and engine. “Now what?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I gotta think.”
They sat quietly in the darkness.
What I’ve gotta do is get away from him, Sherry thought.
Right, and get how many more people killed?
In her mind, she saw Duane’s severed, partly eaten head rolling off the bed pillow. Then she saw Toby hunched over the woman in the hallway, slamming his knife into her back.
She saw the look on Jim’s face when Toby pounced on him and stabbed him.
And she wondered if Jim was still alive.
She pictured him on a gurney being wheeled out of the building into a chaos of police cars and flashing lights and into the rear of an ambulance.
I’ll never find out about him till I get away from Toby.
If I don’t get away, he’s gonna kill me. Sooner or later. He sure can’t let me go.
Wants to eat me?
Take it easy, she told herself. He isn’t about to kill or eat me. Not for a while. He hasn’t even made it in yet. He’ll want to keep me alive till after he’s done that, at least.
Unless I try to escape again and he rips me up with that knife.
Next time I make a break for it, she thought, I’d damn well better do it right.
I sure can’t try it here.
“What’re we going to do?” she asked.
After a few more moments of silence, Toby said, “I want to take you home. But I don’t know how.”
“Where’s home?”
“None of your business.”
“Do you want my help?”
“You’ll just try to mess me up.”
“I owe you, Toby. You let me call the ambulance for Jim.”
“After I stabbed the shit out of him.”
“You didn’t have to let me call. But you did. I told you I’d cooperate if you let me do that. I can’t be much help, though
, if you won’t discuss it with me.”
“Thing is,” Toby muttered, “I just don’t know about driving home in this thing. Even if we get rid of the body, it’s still his van, and it’s all fucked up inside with his blood and everything…” Toby shook his head. “I can hide it in our garage so the cops won’t find it, but then Sid’s gonna see it and start asking questions.”
“So the thing is,” Sherry said, “you want to take me to your house but you don’t want Sid to see the van?”
“Yeah.”
“Why not?”
“Are you kidding? He’d go apeshit.”
“What’ll happen when he sees me?” Sherry asked.
“That’ll be okay. I’ve got that all figured out. I’ll just tell him I found you. I’ll say you were in an accident and I brought you home to take care of you.”
“And he’ll believe that?”
“Sure. Why not?”
For godsake, don’t argue!
“No reason,” she said. “Sounds good to me.”
“Only what about the van?” Toby asked.
“You could tell Sid it’s mine. You and I had a collision. I was driving the van and crashed into you, how’s that?”
“I don’t know,” Toby mumbled.
“Your car was knocked out of commission, so I was nice enough to drive you home in my van.”
“How come you don’t just drop me off?”
“Because I’m hurt. I am hurt.”
“Yeah,” Toby said. “You are, all right.” Though Sherry couldn’t see more than the dim shape of him in the darkness, she was sure a smile must be lurking at the corners of his mouth. He was probably thinking about the slit below her breast.
“I’m hurt and I don’t have anyone to look after me,” Sherry explained. “You felt sorry for me and offered to let me stay at your place till I get better.”
“How come I didn’t take you to your place?”
“Because…I can’t go home. Because…I’ve got it! Spousal abuse! My husband’s the one who beat me up and ripped off my earring and cut me! I ran away from him tonight. I jumped in the van and sped away…Next thing you know, I crashed into you.”
“So you’ve gotta stay with us because you’re hiding from your husband?”
“Exactly.”
After a small silence, Toby said, “That’s pretty smart. No wonder you’re a teacher.”
“Do you think Sid’ll buy it?”
“Sure. It’s a great story.”
“To make it work,” Sherry said, “we’ll need to do a few things.”
“Like dump the body?”
Grimacing, she nodded. “That’s number one. Next, we’ve got to really crash the van into something.”
“So it’ll have dents and stuff,” Toby said.
“That’s right.”
“You really are smart.”
“Can you guess what else we need to do?”
“Clean all the blood and shit outa the van?”
“Sooner or later, yeah. Come on, think. You read books about serial killers, don’t you?”
“Yeeeahh. I know! Get rid of the license plates!”
“That’s it!”
“Switch ’em with some other car.”
“Right.”
The excitement draining out of his voice, he said, “Only I’d need to have tools or something.”
“A screwdriver is all,” Sherry said. “Then just switch the plates with any car that’s handy, throw away Duane’s registration or whatever, and Sid’ll never have any reason to think the van isn’t mine.”
“That’d be so great. But where’m I gonna get the screwdriver?”
“Speed-D-Mart.”
“You mean like walk into a store? In my robe?”
“I’ll go in,” Sherry said.
“Oh, sure. You oughta see what you look like.”
“I can clean myself up a little…”
“Besides, how do I know you won’t tell on me?”
“Take my word on it?”
“Oh, sure. Anyway, we can’t buy anything even if we did go in. How much money have you got on you?”
“None.”
“Same here,” Toby said. “Wanta take a wild guess at where my money is?”
“Locked in Duane’s apartment?”
“That’s about the size of it, thanks to you know who.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Sure you are.”
“But I might know an easy way to lay our hands on some cash.”
“Yeah?”
“Unless you already did something with it, there should be a wallet back there.” She jabbed her thumb toward the rear of the van.
“Huh?” Toby asked.
“Has Duane still got his clothes on?”
“Yeah! Told you, I ain’t a pervert.”
“When he left his apartment tonight, he had a wallet in the back pocket of his shorts. It probably has lots of cash in it.”
“Holy shit,” Toby said.
Chapter Twenty-one
“You gonna stay put?” Toby asked.
“Whatever you want,” Sherry told him. “Do you need me to help with something?”
“Just don’t try running away.”
“I won’t.”
“Maybe you better stay here.”
“All right.”
“Put on your seat belt.”
Sherry pulled the seat belt down across her chest and lap and snapped its buckle into place.
Toby plucked out the ignition key. With the key in one hand and his knife in the other, he climbed between the seats. He stepped behind Sherry and said, “I’m just gonna put this around you.” A strap of some sort dropped past her eyes, fell onto her shoulders for a moment, then closed softly around her neck.
It seemed to be a cloth belt. Probably from the robe Toby was wearing.
“I’m just gonna tie it to the headrest,” he explained. “It’s for your own good. ’Cause if you try and run away again, I’ll have to kill you.”
“I won’t try to run. But if this makes you feel better, fine.”
“There. How’s that?”
“Fine.”
“Not too tight?”
“No.” Leaning forward slightly, she felt the belt press against her throat. She settled back in her seat and the pressure went away. “It’s okay,” she said.
“Good. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Oh, that’s obvious.
Toby’s hand came over the top of the seat back and patted her right shoulder. Then it moved downward, pressing her gently through her blouse, until his fingers covered her breast.
Sherry wanted to shove his hand away.
She resisted the urge.
I try to stop him, he’ll do something worse.
He slid her blouse to the side and his hand drifted over the bare skin of her breast.
The feel of it gave Sherry gooseflesh. As the bumps crawled over her body, her nipples grew hard and stiff. Her right nipple prodded Toby’s hand. Moaning, he rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger.
She grabbed his wrist. “Stop it,” she said.
“Let go.”
“You let go.” She tried to pull his hand away.
He twisted her nipple and she yelped with pain, but then he let go and she released his wrist and he swatted the side of her face.
Not saying a word, he went away.
The pain quickly subsided from Sherry’s nipple and face, leaving them hot and tingly. She blinked tears out of her eyes. As they slid down her cheeks, she took deep, trembling breaths.
Stupid! What’d I try to stop him for? All it did was give him an excuse to hurt me.
He probably liked it, she thought. Hell, he probably loved it.
Next time, just let him do what he wants.
“All right!” Toby blurted from the rear of the van. “Got it!”
“Go to hell,” Sherry said.
Idiot! Don’t piss him off!
“What’s wrong with y
ou?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she muttered.
“Want me to come up there?”
No!
Afraid to answer his question, she asked, “How much money did you find?”
“I don’t know. I can’t see. But there’s some.”
“What about his clothes?”
“What about them?”
“Are they okay to wear?”
“Wear? Who?”
“You.”
“No way. You gotta be kidding. It’s like he exploded in ’em.”
What did you do to him? She almost asked, but didn’t dare. She didn’t want to know. She knew too much, already.
“I’m gonna try and get him outa here,” Toby said. “Stay put.”
Eyes forward, Sherry heard the rear doors squawk open. The van shook slightly. Then she heard quiet, sliding sounds, a little like a wet mop, but heavier.
Duane.
She supposed that Toby was standing behind the van, dragging Duane’s body out by the ankles.
The van lurched.
Then she heard a heavy, moist whop! Duane’s body hitting the concrete? She expected the whop! to be followed quickly by the thunk! of his head.
The thunk didn’t come.
Oh, yeah, Sherry thought.
She suddenly felt very much like screaming.
Don’t! For godsake, don’t!
The van’s rear doors squawked and banged shut.
In the side mirror, she saw Toby behind the van. He wore the pink robe. Without the belt, it hung open like an overcoat. He was walking backward, bent over, dragging Duane by the ankles. Duane’s legs were bare, his shorts rucked up high around his thighs. The lap of the shorts was soaked with blood. The belt was unfastened, the waist open, the zipper down.
Sherry turned her head away and shut her eyes.
What did he do?
Her mind suddenly shrieked, I’VE GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE!!!
She reached down and clawed open her seat-belt buckle, then hooked both hands under the cloth belt at her throat. She tugged it. The cloth stretched and made quiet sounds like groans, but didn’t break.
STOP IT! DON’T DO IT!
She quit straining at the belt.
I’ve gotta be smarter than this. If I just leap out and make a run for it, he’ll nail me.
She released her grip on the belt and lowered her hands to her lap.
What I’ve gotta do, she told herself, is go along with everything. Stop fighting him. Stop trying to get away.