She shook the plastic container. Only a couple of inches of water remained, sloshing about its bottom.
‘That’ll be enough to last us till we get to the lodge,’ Cora said.
‘Yeah,’ Vivian said. ‘Don’t ruin it.’
‘We can always come back if we run out,’ Cora explained
‘This stuff looks fine to me,’ Finley said.
‘Why bother?’ Abilene said. ‘We’ve got two more bottles in the car.’
With a grin, Finley said, ‘But they aren’t filled with clear, sparkling Vermont lake water.’
‘God knows what’s in that stuff,’ Vivian said.
‘Woosies.’
Cora jumped.
The rest of them followed her into the water. Once again, Abilene was stunned by its sudden chill. She submerged herself completely, then surfaced. Cora and Finley were continuing toward the other side, but Vivian had halted, unwrapped her hand, and was using a clean part of the sock to work on the bloodstain marring her shirt.
Seemed like a good idea. After switching the moccasins to her injured left hand, Abilene reached across with her right and rubbed the bloody area of her skirt briskly against her thigh. Probably wouldn’t do a lot of good. But she was bound to get out the worst of it.
‘Any luck?’ she asked Vivian.
Vivian dropped her hand. The pink of her skin showed through the clinging fabric. The bloodstain was faint, but still visible.
‘Better,’ Abilene said.
‘I guess the shirt’s ruined. Doesn’t really matter, though.’
‘Don’t you get a free supply from Tipton?’ Finley asked. Vivian turned around. Finley had already climbed onto the rocks at the far side. ‘Sure do. If I had any with me, I’d give one to you.’
Finley smiled down at the darkly stained tail she’d used to wrap her hand. ‘Gives my shirt character, don’t you think?’
‘A red badge of courage,’ Abilene said.
‘A red badge of lunacy,’ Finley corrected.
Following Vivian to the other side, Abilene said, ‘If this was a war, we could all get Purple Hearts.’
‘Not sure they give ’em for self-inflicted wounds,’ Cora said. They climbed out. Abilene slipped into her moccasins.
‘I guess our little communion does make us blood sisters, though,’ Cora added.
‘Whoopee,’ Finley said.
‘It wasn’t actually so bad,’ Vivian said. ‘I mean, it was only our blood. I thought about that. I figured it wasn’t any worse than if it’d just been my own.’
‘I thought about that, too,’ Cora admitted.
‘Yeah,’ Finley said. ‘Could’ve been worse.’
Vivian nodded. ‘If Batty’s blood had been in there, I know I couldn’t have drunk it. Not a chance.’
‘In a way it’s kind of neat,’ Abilene said.
‘Oh yeah,’ Finley said.
‘I mean, we all have each other’s blood inside us right now. We’re digesting it. It’ll become part of us.’
‘You’re weird as hell, Hickok.’
Cora started to walk away but Vivian asked her to wait. With Abilene holding her steady, Vivian balanced on one leg and struggled to get the wet sock onto her foot. The bottom of her foot looked ruddy, but there were no cuts or scrapes that Abilene could see. At least the sock would now give it a little protection.
‘If you have any trouble you can borrow my moccasins for a while.’
‘It’s not bad.’
‘All set?’ Cora asked.
‘Yep.’
They followed Cora across the rocks, over the top of a fallen log, then along the shoreline to the place where they’d first come upon the inlet that morning. From there, they journeyed through the woods, keeping the lake in sight.
Abilene was surprised at how quickly they came upon the path to the lodge. She supposed that she shouldn’t be surprised; return trips, she had noticed even as a child, always seemed faster than the trips going out.
With a glance to her left, she saw the old dock and the strangely tilted diving platform beyond its end.
‘Anybody wanta go down to the beach and take a snack break?’ Finley asked, waving the bag of chips.
‘Let’s just get on to the lodge,’ Vivian said.
‘You mean I traipsed all over creation with this for nothing?’
‘Eat some yourself,’ Abilene suggested.
Finley didn’t bother, but she did open the water bottle. They all took drinks from it before resuming their trek.
Soon, they stepped out of the woods at the far end of the lodge’s grounds. Abilene felt her heart quicken as she started across the field. She squinted through the bright sunlight, scanning the back of the lodge, half expecting to spot Helen. Maybe by the outer pool. Maybe watching from one of the high balconies. But she saw no one.
Though the field seemed fairly level all the way to the rear of the lodge, Abilene realized that it had a slight upward grade. She was too low, for a while, to see the granite walkway or pool.
But as she neared them, the ground rose.
Helen’s shoes were still there, the open bag of chips propped up between them like before.
Abilene felt her excitement wither.
‘She hasn’t been back for her shoes,’ Cora pointed out.
Nobody else said anything.
They trudged the final distance. The sun was high enough, now, for the balcony of the lower porch to cast a shadow across half the width of the walkway and pool. They stepped into the shade and leaned back against the wall of the lodge.
The granite wall felt wonderfully cool through Abilene’s blouse. Huffing for air, she lifted the front of her blouse and wiped her face.
Nobody spoke.
Cora alone didn’t appear to be winded. But she, like the others, was flushed and dripping.
Vivian bent over and clutched her knees.
After a while, Finley sat down.
Whether or not they believed in Batty’s power, Abilene guessed that they had all approached the lodge with hopes of being met by Helen. Now, they felt only let down and exhausted.
‘This isn’t accomplishing anything,’ Cora finally said. ‘We’d better look for her.’
‘Let’s go back to the car first,’ Vivian suggested. ‘I want to get some shoes on.’
‘And we can take care of our cuts,’ Abilene reminded them.
Nobody made a move to leave.
Maybe we’re scared, Abilene thought. Afraid to start searching. As long as we haven’t searched, there’s still a chance of finding her. But if we look everywhere and don’t turn her up…
‘Why don’t we just rest for a while?’ Finley said. ‘I’m really bushed.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Finally, they left the shade and climbed the driveway to the car. Vivian crawled inside. With instructions from Cora she was able to locate the first-aid kit. She handed it out, then retrieved a pair of socks and blue Nikes from her own luggage.
‘Our stuff’s still wet,’ she informed the others. ‘Why don’t we set everything out in the sunlight?’
The suggestion seemed to Abilene like a delaying tactic. And she was all for it.
Vivian got into her socks and shoes while the others took turns applying antiseptic and bandages to the wounds on their hands. After Vivian had patched her cut, they unloaded all the garments, shoes and towels, and the flashlights that had been thrown into the pool last night. Finley tested the flashlights.
‘Dead,’ she announced, and tossed them back inside the car.
They carried the other things to the top of the driveway, spread them around on the pavement, and weighted them down with shoes.
When the clothing and towels were secure, Finley suggested they get the rest of their things from the campsite.
Once we’ve done that, Abilene thought, we won’t have any excuses left. We’ll have to search the lodge.
But maybe Helen will be waiting at the campsite.
Sure.
&n
bsp; She couldn’t even begin to believe it.
As they walked through the overgrown lawn toward the edge of the forest, Abilene realized that nobody had called out for Helen. We’ve been back for half an hour - maybe a lot longer - and we haven’t once shouted out her name.
Probably, she supposed, for the same reason we’ve procrastinated like this about searching the lodge.
Holding onto our hope for as long as we can.
They entered the trees. When they came upon the clearing, it looked just the same as when Abilene had left it early that morning.
The sight of Helen’s blouse and plaid Bermuda shorts again brought tears to her eyes.
‘At least nobody swiped my camera,’ Finley muttered. She sounded as if she didn’t care at all.
They rolled their own sleeping bags. When they finished, Helen’s bag was still on the ground, her purse beside it, her abandoned shorts and blouse spread across its cover.
‘I’ll do it,’ Abilene said. She knelt and picked up the clothes. They were dry. She wrapped them around the purse, then rolled the sleeping bag.
Helen’s ‘effects.’
They aren’t her effects, Abilene told herself. They’re her stuff, not her effects. Christ!
She carried them, along with her own sleeping bag, toilet kit and purse, out of the forest and across the sunny yard to the driveway.
Cora set down the lantern.
Everything else - including Finley’s camera - was stowed without comment in the rear of the Wagoneer.
As if we’re getting ready to drive away, Abilene thought.
If only…
The car door dropped shut with a crash.
They all looked at each other.
‘Okay,’ Cora said. ‘Let’s get on with it.’
They walked alongside the porch and climbed the stairs. Finley and Abilene picked up the flashlights. Cora switched the tire iron to her left hand. With her right, she opened the door.
‘Helen!’ she called into the stillness.
No answer came.
They entered the lodge.
Cora went straight to the registration desk and leaned over its counter, just as she’d done yesterday when they first arrived.
Abilene’s gaze roamed to the top of the stairway, lingered on the dark opening of the corridor at its top, then swept along the balcony. No sign of anyone. The doors beyond the railing were shut.
Cora in the lead, they made their way through the lobby and rounded the corner into the dining area.
It looked much the same as when Abilene had last seen it. Nothing had changed about the empty room except, perhaps, the angles of light coming in through the windows.
The last time she’d been here, though, she hadn’t known about the slaughter.
Thanks to Helen’s story, she couldn’t help but picture a long table surrounded by guests. Men, women and children choking with poison. Gagging. Yelling. Shoving themselves away from the table in panic as they were suddenly stormed by a savage tribe. Fleeing, only to be cut down.
The images stayed with her as she stepped through the kitchen door. Here, a wild denizen of the woods (she pictured Batty) had snuck poison into the Mulligan stew.
‘I guess we’d better check that,’ Cora said, nodding toward the door of the walk-in freezer.
Finley opened it and shone her light inside.
No Helen. The floor was bare. Pipes stretched along the walls and across the ceiling. From a center beam dangled meat hooks. The walls had empty shelves.
‘Just as well she isn’t in here,’ Cora said.
Finley shut the door. They wandered about the kitchen, checked inside the pantry and pulled open a few of the lower cupboards. Abilene yanked open the back door, leaned out, and glanced up and down the balcony. Briefly, she scanned the rear grounds. Then she met up with the others and they made their way through the dining area to the lobby.
They paused at the foot of the stairway.
‘Let’s save upstairs for last,’ Cora suggested. ‘We’ll have to bust open all the doors.’
They stepped across the corridor. A glance was all it took to satisfy themselves that the room was empty. They left it behind and followed the corridor to the first door.
Finley and Abilene trained their flashlights on it. Cora tried the knob, then rammed the wedge end of the tire tool into the crack between the door and frame. She strained at the bar. The wood groaned and crackled. She dug the wedge in deeper, pried some more, then withdrew it. ‘Stand back,’ she muttered. She stepped to the other side of the corridor, then dashed at the door. Just in front of it, she cocked her knee up and shot her foot forward. The blow crashed the door open and her momentum threw her stumbling into the room.
The others followed her inside. Light from a single, broken window revealed a floor thick with dust and littered with leaves. The broken pane was shrouded with spider webs.
There was no furniture. A couple of doors at the far end of the room probably enclosed a closet and toilet, but Abilene saw no footprints other than Cora’s in the layer of filth coating the floor.
‘Nobody’s been in here for years,’ she said.
They didn’t bother to approach the doors. Instead, they returned to the hallway.
As Cora pulled the door shut, a faint ‘Eeeeowww’ froze them all.
They stood motionless. Abilene realized she was holding her breath.
Could Helen have made such a sound? Maybe. If her mouth was gagged, or she was moaning in agony, or…
‘Weeeeowwww.’
‘Sounds like a cat,’ Vivian whispered.
Finley switched her flashlight on. She turned slowly, sweeping its beam along the floor and walls of the corridor in the direction of the lobby.
When the sound came again, her light jumped to the door beneath the staircase.
‘Came from there,’ she said. ‘I think.’
‘I think so, too,’ Cora said.
Staying close together, they went to the door. Finley opened it. She and Abilene aimed their flashlights down the stairway.
The brightness caught the cat’s eyes in just such a way as to make them shine like clear, glowing, yellow marbles.
A white cat.
Crouched at the foot of the stairs.
It seemed to be gazing up at them, waiting for them.
The fur of its muzzle was wet and red.
Abilene’s skin went crawly.
‘Is it Amos?’ Vivian whispered.
‘Batty?’ Cora called. ‘Batty? You down here?’
The cat twitched its tail.
No response from Batty.
Maybe the cat had come to the lodge by itself.
From where they stood at the top of the stairs, only a small portion of the pool was visible. Abilene could see nobody in the water. The stretch of granite where they’d climbed out last night was dry.
‘How the hell did it get down here?’ Finley asked.
‘A window?’ Abilene suggested.
‘They’re awfully high.’
‘It obviously didn’t swim in,’ Abilene said. The white fur wasn’t wet. And if the cat had come in through the archway, the water would’ve washed the blood from its face.
The blood, she realized, looked very red and wet.
Her stomach seemed to drop.
It’s got to be our blood, she told herself. The leftovers from Batty’s bowl. It’s got to be.
But she knew it wasn’t.
She started down the stairs. The cat watched her, waited. When she was halfway to the bottom, it rose and casually strolled away to the left.
To the door marked Gents.
The door was open. Just a few inches.
Abilene felt as if her breath had been kicked out.
‘God, the door’s open!’ she gasped.
The cat slipped through the gap.
‘Wait for us! ’ Cora snapped.
Abilene stopped at the door. She gasped for air. Her heart thudded hard and fast.
‘Helen?
’ she called into the dark gap.
‘Eeeeeoww.’
The others clustered behind her.
‘Oh Jesus, I’m scared,’ Vivian whispered.
Abilene shoved the door open wide. It groaned on its hinges. No window. Total blackness. She raised her flashlight, and its beam pushed a funnel of brightness through the dark. All she saw was a bench just to the left, a high bank of lockers in front of it.
She stepped forward. Hot, stale air wrapped around her. It smelled ancient, foul. It clogged her nostrils and seemed to coat the lining of her windpipe.
Finley brushed against her side. Both flashlights darted about. ‘Smells like somebody took a dump in here,’ she muttered.
‘Where’s the fucking cat?’ Cora said.
Finley stepped sideways, and Abilene followed her past the end of the lockers. Clear floor. A couple of sinks, two urinals. Against the back wall was a toilet stall, its door hanging open and nobody inside. The stall was enclosed on its far side by a wall that extended outward to within a few feet of another bench.
‘Showers are probably in there,’ Finley said, and pointed her light at a wide entry way facing the lockers.
Showers.
Oh God, Abilene thought.
Helen can’t be in there. Can’t be! She’s terrified of shower rooms.
Fighting for air that was thick and rank, Abilene followed Finley. They stopped in front of the opening, Cora and Vivian at their backs. They searched it with their flashlights.
It was a shower room.
Nozzles high on the walls.
Helen on the floor.
Sprawled on her back, arms at her sides, legs spread, swimsuit gone, the handle of a knife standing upright from the gory mound of her belly, her head turned, her open eyes greeting her friends with a blank stare.
The white cat, near her hip, lapped at the lake of blood.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
BELMORE GIRLS
‘Virginia Finley, but everybody calls me Finley. The reason I’m calling, I’m a student at Belmore University, and I’d really like your permission to make a film of one of your stories… The one in The Book of the Dead… Right, that’s the one. A friend of mine read it and it really grossed her out. Anyway, I’ve read it a few times now and I think it’d make a neat little film. The thing is, I need to come up with a showpiece, sort of, to submit for acceptance into a film program down there in Los Angeles. I think “Mess Hall” would be perfect. I’ve got a friend who’s already agreed to write the script.’ Grinning across the room at Abilene, Finley added, ‘She’s the daughter of Alex Randolph… You think so? I’ll have to tell her. Anyway, she’d do the script and we’d shoot the film out here on video tape. If it’s okay with you… Yeah, just the rights to make this production of it for amateur purposes only. I’d pay you a whopping one dollar… Great… You can count on it. I’ll make you a copy myself and sent it to you as soon as it’s finished… Yeah, I’ll send along a contract tomorrow. If there’s anything you don’t like about it, just let me know. And, you know, sometimes things happen with these student productions. If the right person likes it… Yeah, you and me both. Anyway, you’d get a percentage of any deal that might come up for a feature film, television, whatever… Right, fabulous wealth… Thanks, I’ll need it. And thanks very much for letting me do this. I really appreciate it.’ She nodded, smiling. ‘Okay. And I’ll get the contract to you right away… Bye-bye for now.’