Blood Games (31 page)

    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.

    

    

    

    ‘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.’

    Finley hung up. She took a deep breath, and let it out loudly. ‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’ Abilene asked.

    ‘He was really friendly and cheerful.’

    ‘See? What’d I tell you? Can’t judge a guy by the kind of stories he writes.’

    ‘Geez, but “Mess Hall”? I figured he’d have to be some kind of sleezy creepoid. By the way, he said he’s read all your dad’s books and thinks he’s great.’

    ‘The man’s got taste.’

    ‘Anyway, he sounded pretty enthusiastic about the project. He gave the go-ahead, so you’d better get cracking. How long before you can come up with the script?’

    Finley had made the call on Monday. By Tuesday afternoon Abilene had finished the term paper for her Chaucer seminar and was ready to start on the script. That night, cast and crew ‘took a meeting’ in the student union.

    Finley had already scouted locations. She gave her ideas about how the story should be revised and who should play which characters. Vivian, being a theater major who had already played major roles in several campus productions, was offered the lead.

    ‘I think Abilene should play Jean,’ she said. ‘It opens with a love scene. Abilene and Harris would be perfect for that.’ Harris blushed.

    ‘But you’re the actor around here,’ Abilene pointed out. ‘You should have the main role.’

    ‘It’d be more fun to play one of the zombies anyway.’

    ‘Same here,’ Helen said. ‘I’ve always wanted to be a zombie.’

    Abilene laughed. ‘It’d be a big stretch after all those Halloweens as a ghost.’

    ‘I can handle it.’

    ‘So,’ Vivian said, ‘how about Abilene as the main gal?’

    ‘Fine with me,’ Finley said. ‘Hickok’s got that great, vulnerable look. Make a terrific victim.’

    ‘Oh thanks.’

    She and Harris agreed to take the roles of Jean and Paul, the lovers. Vivian, Cora and Helen would be the zombies.

    ‘And you’ll be The Reaper,’ Finley told Tony, a handsome, powerfully built young man who’d been going with Cora for the past few months.

    ‘Now hold it just a second,’ Cora said. ‘I’m not so sure I like the idea of my guy getting to mess around with Abilene.’

    ‘He doesn’t mess around with her,’ Finley pointed out, ‘he tortures her.’

    ‘He might just enjoy it too much,’ she said, giving Tony an amused scowl.

    Harris grinned at him. ‘Better not.’

    ‘What’ll she be wearing?’ Cora asked.

    ‘Not a whole lot.’

    ‘That’s what you think,’ Abilene said.

    ‘Well,’ Finley said, ‘we don’t need actual nudity, but it’s gotta look real, you know. This guy is a sex maniac, a psychopath. So…’

    ‘I’ll work it out in the script,’ Abilene told her.

    ‘Can you have it done by Friday?’

    ‘Sure. No problem.’

    ‘Great. Then we can go out on location first thing Saturday and get it done.’

    ‘Problem,’ Tony said. ‘I’ve got a track meet on Saturday. Sorry.’

    ‘What about the weekend after?’ Finley asked.

    ‘That’s getting awfully close to finals,’ Abilene said.

    Tony held up his hands. ‘Hey, look, I don’t want to screw things up for you gals. I’m no actor, anyway. Maybe you oughta find someone else for my part. That’d be fine with me. In fact, I’d prefer it. Honestly. Why don’t you just go ahead without me? Okay?’

    Looking concerned, Finley asked, ‘Are you sure? I mean, we’d really like you to be in it.’

    ‘Maybe you should find someone else. Really.’

    ‘I guess we could,’ Finley said.

    ‘There are some guys in the drama department,’ Vivian said. ‘I could ask around and…’

    ‘They’re such a bunch of weenies,’ Finley complained.

    ‘Not all of them. What about Jack Baxter?’

    ‘Baxter?’ Abilene asked. ‘The guy who played Stanley in Streetcar?’

    ‘He’s such a Neanderthal,’ Finley said. ‘What I had in mind was someone more… clean-cut, handsome. You know, a Ted Bundy type.’

    ‘I’m a Ted Bundy type?’ Tony asked. ‘Gee, thanks.’

    ‘I’m not particularly thrilled,’ Abilene said, ‘about the idea of playing victim for a guy like Baxter.’

    Vivian shrugged. ‘Oh, he’s not so bad. And I think he’d be awfully good in the role.’

    ‘Typecasting,’ Abilene said.

    ‘Well,’ Finley said, ‘why don’t you check with him, Viv? See if he’s interested. And if he’s available for this weekend.’

    ‘I don’t know about this,’ Abilene said as she walked with Harris into the secluded clearing near Shady Lane Bridge that Finley had chosen for the opening scene. She wondered if she sounded nervous enough. She certainly felt nervous. The idea of making out with Harris in front of her friends was bad enough, but Baxter had joined the troupe.

    ‘What don’t you know about?’ Harris asked. Stopping, he faced Abilene and took hold of both her hands.

    She glanced about. ‘It’s so… deserted around here.’

    Sure. Deserted. Finley with the video camera at her eye, taping, while Cora and Vivian and Helen watched from the shadows beneath a nearby tree and Harris fooled with the trick knife Vivian had borrowed from the prop room. At least he’s not staring at me, she thought.

    ‘It’s supposed to be deserted,’ Harris said. ‘That’s the whole idea.’

    ‘I know, but… Maybe we should go back to my apartment.’

    ‘So your damn roomy can listen through the wall and make noises?’

    Smiling slightly at that, Abilene said, ‘She won’t be there. She’s going to a matinee this afternoon. We’d have the place all to ourselves.’

    ‘I like it here.’ Harris pulled her gently into his arms. He nibbled the side of her neck. That hadn’t been in the script. It made her shiver and squirm. ‘So much nicer,’ he muttered, ‘than some stuffy old room.’

    ‘Somebody might come along.’

    ‘You worry too much.’ Nuzzling the side of her neck again, he untucked the back of her blouse and slipped his hands up beneath it.

    ‘No,’ she said, and gendy pushed him away. ‘I mean it. Not here.’

    Harris frowned. ‘What’s the matter with you?’

    ‘I don’t know. It’s just… I guess I’m worried about The Reaper.’

    ‘The Reaper? Oh, for Godsake. Everybody’s got Reaperitis. It’s broad daylight. Besides, he’s in Portland.'

    ‘That’s only a half-hour drive.’

    Harris sighed. ‘Shit. Okay. Forget it.’ With that, he whirled around and began to walk off in a huff. Finley sidestepped, keeping the camera on him.

    ‘No, wait!’ Finley swung the camera toward Abilene. ‘Don’t be this way. Please. I…’ Shaking her head, she hurried after him. She caught him by the shoulder. As he turned to face her, she flung her arms around him. She hugged him hard, kissed him.

    He seemed rigid at first, his mouth tight, as if holding onto his anger.

    
You’re pretty good at this acting stuff
, she thought.