Blood Games

  ‘Just get off the road,’ Abilene said. Peering out the passenger window, she saw the vague shape of a low stone parapet. ‘But not here. I think we’re on a bridge.’

  ‘Great.’

  ‘Slow down,’ she said as the end of the wall passed her window. ‘There’s gotta be a pull-out, or… here!’

  Braking, Cora swung to the right. The smooth pavement went away. The camper rocked slightly. Its tires crunched along the gravel shoulder.

  ‘Get as far over as you can,’ Abilene suggested.

  Cora steered more to the right, then stopped.

  ‘We aren’t gonna stay here?’ Helen said.

  ‘Would you rather go off a cliff?’ Vivian asked.

  ‘Some real excitement for a few seconds,’ Finley said.

  ‘The fog probably won’t lift till tomorrow,’ Abilene explained. ‘It’s just one of those things, when you drive the coast up here. But we’ve got everything we…’

  ‘Is it a mirage,’ Cora broke in, ‘or is that a road there?’

  Abilene leaned closer to the windshield. Just ahead and to the right, the gravel area seemed to flare out. ‘Might be.’

  Cora drove toward it. ‘A road, all right.’

  ‘If you can call it that,’ Abilene said. The lane was unpaved, rutted, and angled downward for a brief stretch before disappearing in the fog.

  ‘Is it wide enough for us?’ Vivian asked.

  ‘Let’s give it a try,’ Cora said. ‘Maybe it goes down to the shore.’

  ‘I hope it’s not someone’s driveway,’ Helen said.

  ‘I doubt it,’ Abilene told her.

  ‘This’ll be fun,’ Finley said.

  ‘What if we get stuck?’ Helen asked.

  ‘You worry too much,’ Cora told her, and started forward.

  ‘Be careful,’ Abilene muttered.

  Cora inched the camper down the road. On her side was a steep, rocky slope with a few scraggly bushes. On Abilene’s side was nothing but fog. She suspected that a wrong turn in that direction would send them plummeting to the bottom of a ravine.

  The camper bounced and shook. Sometimes, Abilene heard the squeak of bushes scraping against its side.

  She spent much of the time gritting her teeth. And clenching her thighs through the corduroy legs of her pants. And holding her breath.

  We’re getting lower all the time, she told herself. Eventually, we’re bound to reach the bottom. Or at least a nice, broad area of flat ground where we can stop for the night.

  Eventually. If we live that long.

  A hairpin turn reversed their direction and put the hillside close to Abilene’s window. She felt a little better, having it there - almost near enough to touch.

  ‘I don’t like this,’ Cora said. Apparently, she didn’t enjoy having the abyss beside her.

  ‘You’re doing fine,’ Vivian told her.

  ‘Maybe the rest of you should get out and walk ahead.’

  ‘The worst is over,’ Abilene said. ‘We’ve gotta be almost down, by now.’

  ‘Just think,’ Finley said. ‘If we do get to the bottom in one piece, we’ll have to go back up again.’

  ‘Sooner or later,’ Abilene agreed.

  ‘Not today,’ Cora said. ‘No way. Wherever we end up, that’s where we’re gonna stay till the fog goes away.’

  ‘Driving back up won’t be nearly as bad,’ Abilene said. ‘Maybe we’re lucky we can’t see what we’re doing,’ Finley suggested. ‘We might not’ve had the guts to try it if…’

  ‘All right!’ Cora blurted.

  Abilene looked to the left.

  Where the gray void had been, she saw a blurry dark shape beyond the roadside. A treetop?

  They continued downward, and more trees appeared. Each seemed taller than the last.

  Turning to her window, she watched the desolate slope recede. Soon, there was level ground on both sides of the camper. She reached over and slapped Cora’s thigh.

  ‘A piece of cake,’ Cora said.

  ‘Ya done good,’ Finley said.

  ‘God,’ Helen said, ‘I didn’t think we’d make it.’

  ‘Can we stop now?’ Vivian asked.

  ‘Let’s see where it goes,’ Cora said. ‘I think we’re heading back toward the water. We might as well get as close as we can. Maybe we’ll run into the beach.’

  She drove slowly onward. Out the windows, all that Abilene could see beyond their strip of road were nearby pines and thickets, fallen trees, boulders and fog.

  That was all.

  Until, gazing through her side window, she glimpsed the rear end of a pick-up truck. It loomed for an instant - green paint and rust, a broken brake-light, an open tailgate - and then they’d left it behind.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CORA’S CHOICE

  ‘Did you see that?’ Abilene asked.

  ‘What?’

  ‘That pick-up truck.’

  ‘You’re seeing things, Hickok.’

  ‘I saw it, all right. It was parked back there by the road.’

  ‘Anybody inside?’ Cora asked.

  ‘I don’t know. I couldn’t even see into its bed. It was kind of a wreck, though. It might’ve been abandoned.’

  ‘Oh, well,’ Cora said. ‘Big deal.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Vivian said. ‘If someone else is down here…’

  ‘If you think we’re leaving, you’re nuts.’

  The road ahead of them widened out. It seemed to cease being a road at all as it joined a broad, flat area.

  ‘What’ve we got here?’ Cora asked, driving forward.

  ‘A parking lot?’ Abilene suggested.

  ‘Looks like… Yep,’ Cora said when a pale log loomed out of the fog, barring their way. She stopped at it, shut off the headlights and killed the engine. ‘Well, gang, here we are.’

  ‘Wherever that might be,’ Vivian said.

  ‘I hope it’s not private property,’ Helen muttered.

  ‘I just hope the natives are friendly,’ Finley said.

  ‘Why don’t we climb out and scout around?’ Cora suggested.

  Abilene opened her door and jumped to the ground. A layer of sand carpeted the solid earth. Though she couldn’t see more than a few yards in any direction, she heard seagulls squawking. She also heard the distant, muffled sounds of the surf tumbling, washing up the shore and withdrawing.

  ‘We made it to the water all right,’ she said as the others joined her.

  ‘We’re probably under that bridge,’ Cora said.

  If so, the bridge was out of sight.

  Finley stepped onto the log barrier and walked along it, arms out for balance. At its end, she leaped to another. A few more strides and she was gone.

  ‘Don’t go wandering off,’ Abilene called.

  The fog seemed to deaden her voice.

  ‘Just exploring, Hickok.’

  ‘We oughta get back in the camper,’ Vivian said, ‘and explore a botde of tequila. It’s cold out here.’

  ‘And creepy,’ Helen added.

  ‘I thought you liked creepy,’ Cora said.

  ‘It’s nice and cozy inside.’

  A dark smudge in the fog became Finley. ‘It is a parking area,’ she called from her log. She kept moving. ‘So far, it looks like nobody’s here but us.’ She vanished again, this time hidden by the camper, not fog.

  ‘Let’s stick with her,’ Abilene suggested.

  ‘Yeah.’ Raising her voice, Cora said, ‘God forbid we should lose Finley.'

  ‘Ha ha,’ came a disembodied reply.

  Helen curled her upper lip.

  ‘What is it?’ Abilene asked.

  She shook her head. ‘Nothing. I was just thinking. What if we did lose her? You know? What if she just went roaming off into the fog and we never found her again?’

  ‘No such luck,’ Cora said.

  ‘Her tapes might fall into the hands of strangers,’ Vivian pointed out.

  Cora’s mouth fell open with mock alarm. ‘My God,
I hadn’t thought of that. Fin!’ she shouted. ‘Hold up!’

  They went after her. Cora in the lead, they stepped over the log and followed it past the front of the camper. No sign of Finley.

  What if she is gone? Abilene thought. Ridiculous. But Helen had given voice to her own fears and made them seem less farfetched.

  Anything, anyone, might be lurking in the fog.

  ‘Finley, say something!’ she called.

  ‘Guys?’

  Her voice sounded eager, as if she’d made some kind of odd discovery. It had come from somewhere not far ahead, but slightly off to the right - in the direction of the ocean.

  They quickened their pace.

  Abilene spotted a blurry, indistinct figure through the shrouding fog. Two figures.

  Her stomach seemed to drop like an express elevator.

  Finley. Finley and someone else. Someone big.

  ‘Oh my Christ,’ Helen gasped.

  Finley, clear now, looked over her shoulder at her approaching friends. ‘Gang, this is Rick.’

  ‘Hi.’ Rick raised a hand. He smiled. He appeared to be seventeen, maybe eighteen, years old. His crew cut was matted down, his face dripping. His face was tanned so dark that his teeth and the whites of his eyes almost seemed iridescent. He was well over six feet tall, powerfully built. He wore a black wetsuit with pale blue piping on its sleeves and legs. A surfboard lay in the sand near his bare feet.

  Studying him, Abilene felt her fears slip away.

  He’s just a big kid, she thought. A very big kid. And a hunk.

  ‘A friendly native,’ Finley explained. Reaching out, she patted his chest. ‘You must be freezing, Rick. Why don’t you come on along with us? You can warm up in our recreational vehicle.’

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t wanta barge in,’ he said, frowning down at the sand in front of his feet. ‘I’d better get going.’

  ‘Do you have a pressing engagement?’

  ‘Well, no, but…’

  ‘He says he wants to leave,’ Cora said, giving Finley a quick look.

  ‘Lighten up. This is an actual California surfer. He could give you pointers. Besides, where can he go in all this fog?’

  ‘Do you live nearby?’ Vivian asked.

  ‘Palm Springs.’

  ‘Jeez,’ Abilene said. ‘You’re a long way from home.’

  ‘We don’t have much of a coastline in Palm Springs.’

  ‘Are you by yourself?’ Vivian asked.

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  ‘Ma’am?’ Finley chuckled.

  ‘It’s Vivian. Just Vivian.’

  He glanced at her, gave her a nervous smile, then looked down again.

  ‘Is that your pick-up truck?’ Abilene asked. ‘We passed one coming in.’

  ‘That’s her, I suppose. Just on my way back when I ran into Finley.’

  ‘You’re not planning to drive off are you?’ Finley asked. ‘In this fog?’

  ‘I’d intended to stay overnight. But nobody was here then. I don’t know.’

  ‘You sleep in your truck?’ Vivian asked.

  ‘There, or on the ground if it’s nice out. But I guess I’ll move along.’

  ‘You don’t have to,’ Cora said. ‘For now, I think you should just come along with us. You can at least warm up for a while before you go back to your truck.’

  Helen rolled her eyes upward. ‘Whatever happened to “playing it safe!”? Christ! You gave Wayne the bum’s rush, and now all of a sudden it’s open house.’

  ‘This is different,’ Cora said.

  ‘It’s not New York, for one thing,’ Vivian added.

  Rick held up a hand. ‘I don’t want any trouble. I’ll just be on my way.’

  ‘No, you won’t,’ Finley told him. ‘Helen!’

  ‘I don’t have anything against you, Rick. It’s just the principle of the thing.’

  ‘I understand.’

  Abilene put a hand on Helen’s shoulder. ‘I really think he’s all right.’

  Helen knocked her hand away. ‘Wayne was all right. I liked him. I liked him, damn it!’ Suddenly, she was crying. She whirled around and strode away. Just before the fog enveloped her, she looked back and blurted, ‘It’s okay. He can come in.’

  ‘I think she liked Wayne,’ Finley quipped.

  ‘Not funny,’ Abilene said.

  After a little more urging, they talked Rick into coming along with them. They found their way to the camper. He propped his surfboard against its side and followed them in.

  ‘Welcome aboard,’ Helen said. Though her eyes were red, she was smiling. ‘By the way, I’m Helen.’ She shook his hand. Cora and Abilene introduced themselves to Rick.

  They turned on lights and the heater. Cora hopped onto a swivel chair behind the driver’s seat, and the others sat on cushioned benches that faced the center aisle.

  ‘It does feel good to get out of the cold,’ Rick said.

  ‘I’ll second that,’ Abilene said. ‘And I’m not even wet.’

  Finley laughed. ‘You were bom all wet.’

  ‘Let’s get some booze in us,’ Vivian suggested.

  She headed for the kitchen area to get it. Finley went after her and returned with a towel. ‘Get out of that frog suit and dry off,’ she said, handing the towel to Rick.

  She sat across from him. He rubbed his head with the towel, then unzipped the jacket of his wet suit and peeled it off. His chest was muscular, nearly hairless, and deeply tanned. He had goosebumps. After drying himself, he draped the towel over his shoulders. ‘That’s a lot better. Thanks.’

  ‘You oughta get out of those pants, too,’ Finley said.

  The suggestion gave Abilene a flutter in her stomach.

  ‘That’s okay,’ he said, blushing through his tan. ‘I’ll keep them on.’

  ‘Aren’t they uncomfortable?’

  ‘Not much.’

  ‘Oh, I get it. You’re not wearing any trunks.’

  His blush deepened.

  ‘We don’t mind, do we, guys?’

  ‘Cut it out, Fin,’ Cora warned.

  Vivian arrived carrying a box full of bottles and plastic glasses and packages of chips. She stepped by carefully, avoiding feet, and set it on a small round table between the swivel chairs. ‘Don’t listen to Fin,’ she told Rick. ‘The girl’s an inveterate wise-ass.’ She went off again and came back with a bag of ice. ‘If you don’t want any hard stuff, we’ve got some Pepsis.’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Tequila’s good for you,’ Finley said. ‘It’ll put hair on your chest.’

  ‘He doesn’t need hair on his chest,’ Abilene said. Rick smiled at her, and she blushed.

  ‘Rick is obviously a minor,’ Cora reminded everyone.

  ‘So what?’ Finley said. ‘We’ll contribute to his delinquency.’

  ‘I guess maybe a little tequila wouldn’t hurt,’ Rick said.

  ‘Won’t hurt at all.’

  Finley and Vivian prepared drinks for everyone. The drinks consisted of ice cubes, tequila, a splash of Triple Sec, and a capful of Rose’s lime juice, stirred with a forefinger.

  Helen tugged open a foil bag of nacho-flavored tortilla chips.

  They drank. They munched chips. Rick explained that he’d been traveling up the coast from Santa Barbara, surfing along the way, moving steadily northward in search of less crowded shores and rougher waters.

  Cora explained that she had never surfed before. She’d always wanted to give it a try, and this was her turn to be in charge of the annual gathering of her old college friends, so here they all were. Maybe, in the morning, Rick could give her a lesson.

  ‘Be my pleasure,’ he said, and rubbed his legs as if they were getting itchy trapped inside the wetsuit pants.

  ‘You oughta take those off,’ Finley said. ‘It’s hot in here. You’d be a lot more comfortable.’

  ‘Can’t do that.’

  ‘You can cover yourself with the towel.’

  ‘No need to be shy around us,’ Helen said. r />
  A corner of Rick’s mouth curled up. He looked around at everyone, his expression vague and confused as if he didn’t know how to handle the situation and hoped for some advice.

  Abilene felt squirmy inside.

  What the hell’s happening here?

  ‘You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,’ she heard herself say.

  A real voice of protest, she thought.

  ‘Whatever you want,’ Vivian told him.

  ‘It’s no big deal,’ Cora said. ‘I’m sure you would be more comfortable.’

  Rick’s comfort, Abilene knew, was the farthest thing from any of their minds. They just want to get him naked. What’s wrong with everybody? Why are they doing this?

  We. Why are we doing this?

  ‘I’ll give you a hand,’ Finley said. She knelt on the floor in front of Rick, reached up and slipped the towel off his shoulders. She spread it across his lap. ‘There you go,’ she said. Her hands disappeared beneath the towel.

  Helen, seated on the bench to Rick’s right, took the drink from his hand. He mumbled, ‘Thanks,’ and held the towel to his waist. Though he muttered, ‘I’m not so sure about this,’ he cooperated by raising his rump off the seat cushion.

  Finley peeled the rubbery pants down his legs.

  Abilene took a sip of her drink. Her hands were trembling. She looked at her friends. They were all gazing at Rick and Finley. Their faces were flushed and moist. Helen’s mouth hung open. Vivian had her lower lip clamped between her teeth. Cora held her glass close to her chest, her wrist pressing against her breast.

  Finley tossed the pants aside. ‘Now that’s better, isn’t it?’ she asked, returning to her seat beside Abilene.

  ‘I guess,’ Rick said. His legs were red and shiny with moisture. The blond hair on his shins glistened like gold filaments.

  Bending forward over the towel, he rubbed his hands up and down his shins and calves. ‘Feels a lot better,’ he admitted.

  Helen and Vivian, on either side of him, were staring at his back. The way he was hunched over, their view had to include some of his rear end, as well.