In This Skin

  Dancing and singing to the music, she unpacked groceries into the larder, having first moved the carton of ancient videotapes into the spare bedroom. The cans they'd use most often she stacked at eye level.

  Above those went pasta, rice, noodles, sugar and salt. On the larder floor she laid the bag of potatoes. Every so often she touched her stomach and made a comment. ”We're going to wipe down the stove now, Junior,”or, ”hang on tight, I'm going to push the sofa back to the wall… uh… come you… ah… there. See, we've got heaps more space now.” She smiled. ”You'll have lots of room to play with your toys.

  And if I turn the armchair this way, we've got a lovely view of outside.

  You can even see the big buildings downtown… Oh, do you hear this song? I heard this on my first date. It was Robbie Veiner in junior high. He took me for a burger in a diner. I thought he was so cool, walking out without paying. He didn't even run. I worshipped him all week for that.” She pulled a duster from the back pocket of her jeans and went to work on the glass shelves. ”Then I heard that Robbie Veiner's mom owned the diner. The magic went out of the relationship after that. But don't you try to impress your mom… or any girl, come to that… by breaking the law”

  She warmed to chatting to the tiny glob of cells in her stomach that was little more than a fertilized egg, the medical term being the spectacular-sounding ”blastocyst.”However, she still preferred ”Junior.”

  Arms, legs and a heartbeat were still weeks away. Robyn eased scatter cushions out of their plastic wrappers and arranged them on the sofa; then she went to hang the new towels in the bathroom.

  ”I hope Noel takes his time driving the car across to college. This is fun. Phew, but hot, too.”Spring sunshine blasted through the windows.

  She opened one a couple of inches. The air outside bore the scent of sun-warmed trees that fringed the bank of the river. When she'd gone to bed (last night they'd collapsed exhausted onto the bare mattress), she'd let thoughts run through her mind in an unchanneled way, so they wove in and out of her plans for the apartment. Suddenly Emerson and Mom belonged to her past. They were ancient history. Even though it was only yesterday that Emerson had begged her to liquidate the trust fund, then struck her when she refused, it could have happened a decade ago.

  By one o'clock, hunger began to needle her stomach. She broke for ten minutes for orange juice and bread spread with a soft yellow butter that they'd bought at the supermarket. Just-baked warmth still clung to the center of the bread, releasing its delicious aroma when she broke it open. You're eating for two now, she thought happily, as she spread butter in a golden layer through the heart of another roll. She ate a whole tomato as if it were an apple, laughing when juice dribbled down her chin. She'd never tasted tomatoes as sweet. Come to that, everything tasted better. Her senses had never been so receptive. Perhaps it was a symptom of pregnancy? Or the pleasure of moving into a home of her own with Noel? Probably a heady cocktail of the two.

  After she'd eaten, she wiped out the cutlery tray in the drawer by the sink, then carefully laid out the knives, forks and spoons in their own distinct compartments. Using kitchen tissue, she polished each item of cutlery in turn until the stainless steel reflected sunlight with the brilliance of laser beams. She couldn't resist setting the table for the meal on Noel's return. She put out the new plates, each flanked by a knife and fork. Carefully she arranged salt and pepper pots, and tumblers for water.

  By midafternoon she'd finished the first phase of her layout plan. Noel had been gone more than two hours. He'd be back any moment. For a while she stood gazing out over the vast open spaces of the parking lot, waiting for a first glimpse of him walking along the service road, which led from the highway where the bus stop was located. He'd be thirsty after walking in this heat. Maybe soon they could find some way of restoring the electricity; they'd be able to use the refrigerator, and even that antique TV as well.

  The heat climbed in the apartment. Most of the window locks had stuck fast due to lack of use. So far, she'd only been able to open one window. Now the swathe of trees that ran alongside the rear of the Luxor looked inviting. She imagined the pleasure she'd draw from strolling through their shade to the river.

  I could sit there for a while. I could probably even find a spot where I can see into the parking lot and check for Noel… poor Noel! Slogging his way back through this heat. Only I promised him I wouldn't leave the apartment.

  But then, we didn't know how stuffy it would get up here.

  What's more, after a cold and windy Chicago winter, the sunlit afternoon begged her to step outside for a while and enjoy. Then, before she could think of any reason why she shouldn't leave the safety of the apartment, she slipped on her shoes, grabbed the new flashlight from the shelf in the kitchen, and headed for the door.

  ***

  Robyn unbolted the apartment door, turned the key, then slipped it into the pocket of her jeans. The door smoothly opened to reveal the flight of stairs down to the next door that separated the accommodation area from the lobby Flicking the switch on the flashlight, she ran downstairs, still humming to herself. This felt like her property now.

  She should buy Ellery something nice for telling them about the apartment.

  He must be our guardian angel in disguise, she thought with a smile as she tugged at the door bolt. Damn! Pain flashed across her knuckle. She must have caught it when she snapped back the bolt. Directing the light to the back of her hand, she saw a gouge in the skin that spanned two knuckles. Even as she watched, the injured skin beaded with blood. A crimson blob trickled down her finger to drip onto the mat. Damn thing.

  She turned the light on the bolt. It had been damaged at some point in the past and a sharp lug of metal protruded from the end of the bolt case. She must have gashed her hand on the flicking thing.

  Ouch. The wound burned, it oozed blood, it stiffened her whole hand.

  Stupid careless thing to do, she thought angrily But I'm not letting it spoil my walk. Tugging a square of clean tissue from her pocket, she folded it into a wad, then pressed it to the wound. After that she took the dustcloth that dangled from her back pocket and wrapped it around both the pad and her hand in a DIY bandage. There… it would have to do. Bunching her right hand into a fist to hold the dustcloth in place, she gripped the flashlight between her chin and collarbone and unlocked the door with her good hand. After some maneuvering using a foot and elbow, she opened the door. Once through it, she found herself in the lobby.

  ”Wow, groovy, groovy place.”Robyn swept the walls with light. The Egyptian theme extended inside here, too. Molded faces of pharaohs, beautiful princesses and gods bulged from the walls. On a gold pillar was more hieroglyph decoration, while burning down from the ceiling was that distinctive Egyptian eye with the swirling lines curling around it.

  It had been painted onto a huge gold disk that must have been fully fifteen feet in diameter.

  ”Oh, I get it,”she murmured. ”The eye of Ra… the sun god looking down.”

  Now the buzz came. She wanted to explore. After all, this was home now.

  And that was a good feeling-a good, good feeling. Robyn checked out the ticket office. There were brass slots in the desk that would have once dispensed tickets. The wooden cashier's drawer was still there with compartments for dollar bills and all denominations of change. The wood had turned dark and shiny after decades of use.

  Moving quickly she pushed through the heavy twin doors into the dance hall-a vast cave of a place. Here the sound of her footsteps was altered by its dimensions. The pat-pat-pat of her feet on bare wood vanished into the colossal space above her head. Shining the light around, she saw the walls here were bare of decoration. There were no windows. The main features were the stage and the ironwork of the lighting gantry that ran from beneath the ceiling out to the stage in the shape of a T.

  There were more steel rails at either side of the gantry's walkway that would have accommodated stage lights, although the lights themselve
s were long gone now.

  Robyn panned the instrument as if it were a searchlight. The light rays were tightly focused so they'd carry a long distance, but they only lit a small area. Outside of that, darkness buried everything else. She paused for a moment. All she could hear now was the sound of her breathing. Silence dominated the Luxor as powerfully as the absence of light.

  A casket of silence and shadow, she thought. That's what it amounts to.

  The walls hold all this dark as if it's water in a tank. Just a few feet away, beyond that membrane of brickwork, would be brilliant sunshine.

  The thought prompted her to walk toward the stage. In a few seconds she could pass through the backstage area, down the passageway, then out through the broken door. She quickened her step, but she forgot about her makeshift bandage; it unraveled itself, ditching the wad of tissue on the floor. Damn. The wound still bled. Now that her mind turned back to it she realized how much the ripped skin hurt, too. It felt like someone had lit a fire in the gash. Shoot, we never even bought painkillers this morning.

  Once more she tugged clean tissue from her pocket and tried to fix the duster-turned-bandage so it wrapped around her fist. There in the middle of the dance floor with the flashlight in her other hand, it was awkward. Glancing around, she noticed the old armchair going solo on the dance floor. Of course, it was part of the suite from the apartment. Had Ellery brought it down here for some reason? Not that it mattered now.

  What mattered was that it was a place to sit while she wound the duster around her hand again. She could even rest the flashlight on the chair's arm so it shone on her hands as she worked.

  Robyn sat down on the armchair, sinking deep into its soft cushion.

  Deciding not to risk knocking the flashlight off the chair arm, she rested it across her lap, then leaned to one side with her hands outstretched so they caught the wash of light spraying from the lens.

  Now it was easy to position the pad of tissue over the cut, then wrap the duster around her hand. There. Fm fixed. Even so, the wound throbbed. It hurt when she tried to move her fingers. Maybe if she sat here a little while it would ease. The pain sickened her. That butterfly flutter sprang up in her stomach again. She ran her fingers just below her navel.

  ”Don't worry my little sunshine. I'll be good to go in a minute. Mommy just needs to take it easy for a while.”

  The silence all but snatched the words from her mouth. With her good hand she picked up the flashlight and shone it at the stage. Beyond the table onstage, the drapes that reached up behind the proscenium arch were a drab gray.

  Yawning, Robyn settled deeper into the armchair. All that work (and maybe pregnancy) were catching up. Suddenly a deep exhaustion swept through her. She yawned again. The flashlight wobbled in her lap as she shifted to make herself more comfortable. The disk of yellow radiance wobbled, too, against the curtain. For a moment she was content to leave the light there. She'd rest a while.

  Silence swelled in the darkness above her. It formed a growing presence there, combining with the Luxor's shadows into a vast body that was more than the mere absence of light and sound. That nexus of quiet and shadow seemed to Robyn a living, breathing creature hovering there above her.

  Drowsily, she allowed her head to lean back against the chair so she gazed up at the invisible ceiling in the distance.

  I could be staring up into space, she told herself. I could be looking into darkness that lies between the stars.

  A breath of cooling air slid over her, touching her bare ankles, then caressing her bare arms before running chill fingers around her throat.

  The dimensions of the building seemed to be changing. The walls rolled back on invisible wheels, the ceiling lifted up into the sky… or at least that's what her drowsy mind imagined. Sleep was creeping in from the margins of consciousness. Dimly she realized that. She knew she should rouse herself, return to the apartment where fresh bed linen waited for her. After all, it wasn't wise to simply go to sleep in this armchair on the dance floor, was it?

  The Luxor lay all alone in the middle of a wasteland. Who knew what kind of people had slithered through that hole in the door? This was the kind of place to hide after robbing a gas station. Or maybe this was the destination to bring a victim.

  Her imagination spun out lazy images into the darkness above her head. A teenage girl gagged with tape, her wrists tied with lighting flex. She'd been bundled into the building, then led onto the stage. There're a couple guys smelling of diesel and whisky. Stubble blackens their jaws.

  They strip her… lay her on the table there on the stage… she hears their panting breath filling the room Even when Robyn blinked, trying to shrug off the sleepy weight pressing down on her, she still heard the deep rasp in the building. The currents of air grew colder. The darkness grew deeper, engulfing the hidden places within the room. The void beneath the stage… There was an open hatch to the understage area. She hadn't noticed that before…

  Those currents of air ran fingers of cold through her hair, down her neck. She shivered. The air had a different smell now. Cool, damp places. It reminded her of forests in the early morning, with dew on the grass. The kind of wilderness where huge shaggy beasts grunt beyond the veil of trees. The grunts and snorted breath made her picture a hungry grizzly bear. Her eyes roved across the wall of darkness that surrounded her.

  It's in here with me. The certainty came with a biting ferocity Why can't I shift this drowsiness? It feels as if I've been drugged. I want to stand up. I want to shine the torch at whatever's in here with me… only I can't. I can hardly move. That darkness is pressing down on me.

  More certainty came rolling out of the darkness like a stab of black lightning.

  Noel's not coming back. He left me here alone. I've been abandoned. No one's coming back. I'll never be able to leave. I don't know my way to the bus stop. Gangs roam the streets here. They won't listen when I tell them I'm pregnant. They'll only laugh when I start to beg.

  Once more the image rolled back at her of the teenage girl being dragged to the table on the stage. Wrists bound with wire. Mouth covered with tape. Frightened eyes darting into the darkness. Then the brutal guys with tattooed arms and shadowed faces force her back onto the table. The tape is ripped off, raising a scream from her bleeding lips. In Robyn's mind's eye the girl on the table turns her head to look at her.

  Robyn recognized the girl.

  ”It's me. I'm the victim.”The words roll like stones through her skull.

  ”I'm seeing what will happen to me.”She shook her head, trying to dislodge the deepening fog of sleep. Why couldn't she rouse herself? Why was she so drowsy? Despite the crimson flare of terror crackling through her brain, her limbs were paralyzed. She desperately longed to run and to scream out loud. But all she could do was turn her head slowly The only noise she could make was the breath coming through her lips.

  And all the time her mind's eye was fixed on the naked girl being tortured by the men.

  Because I'm alone here in the dark. Noel is not coming back. And seeing the terrible things they're doing to the screaming vision of me is what will happen.

  From the darkness, purple death heads bloomed. Blood red streaks flared in gory sunbursts. Cool currents of air slipped inside her T-shirt to touch her stomach, then slithered upward across her chest.

  Onstage the girl choked out a fountain of blood that rose in a crimson plume a foot above her lips. Robyn saw the reason. In preorgasmic frenzy, the two men plunged knives into the girls chest. One point pierced her nipple to run all the way through her torso, nailing her thrashing body to the tabletop. Robyn saw the dying girl, the one who wore an exact copy of Robyn Vincent's face, roll her head to one side.

  Their eyes met.

  I've seen the future…

  Robyn sat up straight with a gasp. Her neck was stiff. Her skin felt colder than glass. Now fully awake, she glanced down at the flashlight in her lap. Its light still burned brightly; the batteries hadn't become exhausted. She li
cked her lips. Her mouth tasted crappy. The dustcloth had loosened from around her hand. She tightened it again. Jesus, she really needed to return to the apartment and lock those doors. It had been an act of stupidity-no, madness!-to wander down here to sit in the chair and dream of… she shuddered. The vision of her lying there naked on the table as the two men knife-fucked her body blazed with vicious clarity. No wonder the darkness frightened her so much that her heart pounded in her chest.

  And what had happened to Noel? He must be hours overdue. Had he been in an accident? Another vivid image came-of him lying bleeding in a car wreck, his face torn from his skull. She blinked the frightening vision away

  She had to return to the apartment now!

  As she struggled to rise from the deep well of the armchair, her flashlight rolled off her lap onto the cushion, lens down. The moment glass pressed flat against the material it stopped the escaping light.

  Instantly she was plunged into complete darkness. Hungrily the dark leapt at her, smothering her senses. Gasping with fear, she searched down between her thigh and the arm of the chair for the hard cylinder of the flashlight. In a second she had it, dragged it out. Panicky, she slashed the light around the dance floor.

  One sweep of the light revealed a figure. With a determined walk, it hurried toward her.

  Noel?

  No, not Noel. Although her eyes were watery with shock and she couldn't see clearly that burst of white light had revealed a misshapen head set with two blazing eyes. The mouth was a red mass of overlapping lips. One hung low in a loosely swinging flap that covered its throat.

  It began to run toward her.

  ***

  Ellery Hann worked on the VCR. The fault sheet taped to its side read, Chews tapes. Fails to eject cassette fully. As he loosened the screws on the machine's carcass, Logan's threat came back to him-if Ellery walked along the street to work again, he'd become a target of Logan's rage.