The Barrens & Others (49 page)

3

Such a beautiful girl living in a place like this
, Jake thought as he entered the lobby of the converted TriBeCa warehouse where Shanna had just bought a condo. Probably paid a small fortune for it too. Just because it was considered a chic area of town.

At the "Elevator" sign he found himself facing a steel panel studded with rivets. Not sure of what to do, he tried a pull on the lever under the sign. With a clank the steel panel split horizontally, dividing into a pair of huge metal doors that opened vertically, the top one sliding upward, the bottom sinking. An old freight elevator. Inside he figured out how to get the contraption to work and rode the noisy open car up to the third level.

Stepping out on the third floor he found a door marked 3B straight ahead of him. That was Shanna's. He knocked, heard footsteps approaching.

"Who's there?" said a muffled voice from the other side. Shanna's voice.

"It's me. Jake. I brought the coat."

"I told you to call the agency."

Even through the door he could sense her annoyance. This wasn't going well. He spotted the glass lens in the door and that gave him an idea.

"Look through your peephole, Shanna."

He pulled That Coat from the box. The fur seemed to ripple against his hands as he lifted it. A few unused letting-out strips fell from the sleeve, landing in the box. The looked like furry caterpillars; a couple of them even seemed to move on their own. Strange. They shouldn't have been in the coat. He shrugged it off. It didn't matter. That Coat was all that mattered. And getting past Shanna's door.

"Just take a gander at this coat. Try one peek at this beauty and then tell me you don't want to take a closer look."

He heard the peephole cover move on the other side. Ten seconds later, the door opened. Shanna stood there staring. He caught his breath at the sight of her. Even without make-up, wearing an old terry cloth robe, she was beautiful. But her wide eyes were oblivious to him. They were fixed on That Coat. She seemed to be in a trance.

"Jake, it's...it's beautiful. Can I...?"

As she reached for it, Jake dropped the fur back into its box and slid by her into the apartment.

"Try it on in here. The light's better."

She followed him into the huge, open, loft-like space that made up the great room of her condo. Too open for Jake's tastes. Ceilings too high, not enough walls. And still not finished yet. The paperhangers were halfway through a bizarre mural on one wall; their ladders and tools were stacked by the door.

He turned and held That Coat open for her.

"Here, Shanna. I had it made in your size."

She turned and slipped her arms into the sleeves. As Jake settled it over her shoulders he noticed a few of those leftover fur strips clinging to the coat. He plucked them off and bunched them into his palm to discard later. Then he stepped back to look at her. The fur had been breathtaking before, but Shanna enhanced its beauty. And vice versa. The two of them seemed made for each other. The effect brought tears to Jake's eyes.

She glided over to a mirrored wall and did slow turns, again and again. Rapture glowed in her face. Finally she turned to him, eyes bright.

"You don't have to call the agency," she said. "I'll call. I want to show this coat."

Jake suddenly realized that he was in a much better bargaining position than he had ever imagined. Shanna no longer had the upper hand. He did. He decided to raise the stakes.

"Of course you do," he said offhandedly. "And there's a good chance you'll be the model we finally settle on."

Her face showed concern for the first time since she'd laid eyes on the coat.

"'A good chance'? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, there are other models who're very interested. We have to give them a chance to audition."

She wrapped the fur more tightly around her.

"I don't want anyone else wearing this coat!"

"Well..."

Slowly Shanna pulled open the coat, untied the terry cloth robe beneath it, and pulled that open too. She wore nothing under the robe. Jake barely noticed her smile.

"Believe me," she said in that honey voice, "this is the only audition you'll need."

Jake's mouth was suddenly too dry to speak. He could not take his eyes off her breasts. He reached for the buttons on his own coat and found the fur strips in his right hand. As he went to throw them away, he felt them move, wiggling like furry worms. When he looked, they had wrapped themselves around his fingers.

Tranquility seeped through him like fine red wine. It didn't seem odd that the strips should move. Perfectly natural. Funny even.

Look. I've got fur rings.

He pulled at his coat and shirts until he was bare from the waist up. Then he realized he needed to be alone for a minute.

"Where's your bathroom?"

"That door behind you."

He needed something sharp. Why?

"Do you have a knife? A sharp one?" The words seemed to form on their own.

Her expression was quizzical. "I think so. The paperhangers were using razor blades–"

"That'll be fine." He went to the work bench and found the utility knife, then headed for the bathroom. "I'll only be a minute. Wait for me in the bedroom."

What am I doing?

In the bathroom he stood before the mirror with the utility knife gripped in the fur-wrapped fingers of his right hand. A sudden wave of cold shuddered through him. He felt half-frozen, trapped, afraid. Then he saw old Jameson's whiskered face, huge in the mirror, saw his monstrous foot ram toward him. Jake gagged with the crushing pain in his throat, he was suffocating, God he couldn't breathe–!

And then just as suddenly he was fine again. Everything was all right. He pushed the upper corner of the utility blade through the skin at the top of his breast bone, just deep enough the pierce its full thickness through to the fatty layer beneath. Then he drew the blade straight down the length of his sternum. When he reached the top of his abdomen he angled the cut to the right, following the line of the bottom rib across his flank. He heard the tendons and ligaments in his shoulder joint creak and pop in protest as his hand extended the cut all the way around his waist to his back, but he felt no pain, not from the shoulder, not even from the gash that had begun to bleed so freely. Something within him was screaming in horror but it was far away. Everything was all right here. Everything was fine.

When he had extended the first cut all the way back to his spine he switched the blade to his left hand and made a similar cut from the front toward the left, meeting the first cut at the rear near the base of his spine. Then he made a circular cut around each shoulder – over the top and through the armpit. Then another all the way around his neck. When that was done, he gripped the edges on each side of the incision he had made over the breast bone and yanked. Amid sprays of red, the skin began to pull free of the underlying tissues.

Everything was all right...all right...

Jake kept tugging.

*

Where the hell is he?

Wrapped in the coat, Shanna stood before her bedroom mirror and waited for Jake.

She wasn't looking forward to this. No way. The thought of that flabby white body flopping around on top of her made her a little ill, but she was going through with it. Nothing was going to keep her from wearing this fur.

She snuggled the coat closer about her but it kept falling away, almost as if it didn't want to touch her. Silly thought.

She did a slow turn before the mirror.

Looking good, Shanna!

This was it. This was one of those moments you hear about when your whole future hinges on a single decision. Shanna knew what that decision had to be. Her career was stalled short of the top. She was making good money but she wanted more – she wanted her face recognized everywhere. And this coat was going to get her that recognition. A couple of international shows and she'd be known the world over as the girl in the fabulous fur. From then on she could write her own ticket.

In spite of her queasy stomach, Shanna allowed herself a sour smile. This wouldn't be the first time she'd spread to get something she wanted. Jake Feldman had been letching after her for years; if letting him get his jollies on her a couple of times assured her of exclusive rights to model his coat, tonight might be the
last
time she ever had to spread for anyone like Jake Feldman.

What was he doing in the bathroom – papering it? She wished he'd get out of there and get this over with. Then she could–

She heard the bathroom door open, heard his footsteps in the great room. He was shuffling.

"In here, Jake!" she called.

Quickly she pulled free of the coat long enough to shed the robe, then slipped back into it and stretched out on the bed. She rolled onto her side and propped herself up on one elbow but the fur kept falling away from her. Well, that was okay too. She left it open, arranging the coat so that her best stuff was displayed to the max. She knew all the provocative poses. She'd done her share of nudie sessions to pay her bills between those early fashion assignments.

Outside the door the shuffling steps were drawing closer. What was he doing – walking around with his pants around his ankles?

"Hurry up, honey! I'm waiting for you!"

Let's get this show on the road, you fat slob!

Suddenly she was cold, her leg hurt, she saw a boyish-faced giant looming over her with a raised club, saw it come crashing down on her head. As she began to scream she suddenly found herself back in her condo, sprawled on her bed with the fur.

Jake was shuffling through the door.

Shanna's mind dimly registered that he was holding something, but the red immediately captured her attention. Jake was all red –
dripping
red – his pants, the skin of his arms, his bare–

Oh God it was blood! He was covered with blood! And his chest and upper abdomen – they were the bloodiest. Christ! The skin was gone!
Gone!
Like someone had ripped the hide off his upper torso.

"I..." His voice was hoarse. A croak. His eyes were wide and glazed as he shuffled toward her. "I made this vest for you."

And then Shanna looked at what he held out to her, what drooped from his bloody fingers – fingers that seemed to be covered with fur.

It was indeed a vest. A white, blood-streaked, sleeveless vest. Between the streaks of blood she could see the wiry chest hairs straggling across the front... whorling around the nipples...

Shanna screamed and rolled off the bed, hugging the coat around her. She wished she could have pulled it over her head to hide the sight of him.

"It's for you," he said, continuing his shuffle toward her. "You can wear it under the coat..."

Whimpering in fear and revulsion, Shanna ran around the bed and dashed for the door. She ran across the great room and out into the hall. The elevator! She had to get away from that man, that
thing
who'd cut his skin into a –

The shuffling. He was coming!

She pressed the down button, pounded on it. Behind the steel door she heard the winches whir to life. The elevator was on its way. She turned and gagged as she saw Jake come through her apartment door and approach her, leaving a trail of blood behind him, holding the bloody skin out as if expecting her to slip her arms through the openings.

A clank behind her. She turned, pulled the lever that opened the heavy steel doors, and leaped inside. An upward push on the inner lever brought the outer doors down with a deafening clang, shutting out the sight of Jake and his hideous offering.

Clutching the coat around her bare body Shanna sank to her knees and began to sob.

God, what was happening here? Why had Jake cut his skin off like that?
How
had he done it?

"Shanna, please," said that croaking voice from the other side of the doors. "I made it for you."

And then the doors started to open! Before her eyes a horizontal slit was opening between the outer doors, and two bloody arms with fur-wrapped fingers were thrusting the loathsome vest toward her through the gap.

Shanna's scream echoed up and down the open elevator shaft as she hit the
Down
button. The car lurched and started to sink.

Thank you, God!

But the third floor doors continued to open. As she passed the second floor and continued her descent, Shanna's eyes were irresistibly drawn upward. Through the open ceiling of the car she watched the ever-widening gap, watched as the two protruding arms and the vest were joined by Jake's head and upper torso.

"Shanna! It's for you!"

The car stopped with a jolt. First floor. Shanna yanked up the safety grate and pulled the lever. Five seconds... five seconds and she'd be running for the street, for the cops. As the outer doors slowly parted, that voice echoed again through the elevator shaft.