Dark Season: The Complete Third Series (All 8 books) (63 page)

BOOK: Dark Season: The Complete Third Series (All 8 books)
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"You leave her alone!" I say firmly.

"Or what? You're just a fat old man, Albert. If I want to stick my dick in that pleasant young lady, I'll do so. I'd prefer it if she'd let me in willingly, but we both know I'm happy to force my way if necessary. She's got such a nice, firm-looking body. The thought of running my hands over her peachy little tits, and burying my head in her bushy -"

"Shut your dirty mouth!" I say. "She's a lady! She's a good Christian lady!"

"Is she?" he asks. "Seems to me, you don't know her at all. Why, she might be a dreadful little slut. She might be a devil in the bedroom. I guess there's only one way to find out. Perhaps I'll pay a visit to her one night, and see what she's made of". He grins. "Don't worry. I'll let you know what I find out".

"If you touch her," I warn him, "our arrangement will be over and you'll be at the mercy of the people of this town. I won't save you, and I'll deny having ever dealt with you. I'm sure you can imagine that people would accept my word over yours any day. After all, I'm an upstanding member of the community, and you're a pathetic little murderer".

He pauses for a moment, with a hint of real violence behind his eyes. "I guess I'll have to be a little more careful, then, won't I?" he says. "Maybe I'll start off slow. How old is the girl in the blue dress, anyway? Twenty-two? Twenty-three? Perhaps I'll drill a hole in her bedroom wall and try to catch sight of her naked. Then again, I'm sure you'll be right next to me, hustling to get a look with one hand on your dick".

"Wash your mouth out," I say, fuming at his youthful arrogance.

"What's her name, fat boy? At least tell me her name".

"I'm warning you," I say firmly. "Keep well away from her".

"Or what?" He steps past me and peers through the crack in the door. Following him, I see that Victoria is still talking to Henry at the reception desk. "She sure is fine," Lawrence whispers. "Such soft, pale skin. I can't wait to run my hands over her tits and make her moan like a whore". He turns to me. "You know I could do that, right? You know she'd fall into my arms without much pressure. You, on the other hand... you're a fat old gasket. Maybe you'd be able to give her enough money to get her into your bed, but even then I doubt she could stand to look at you". He grins as he pats me on the back. "Relax, old man. If I fuck her, I'll only do it once or twice, and then she's all yours. Just don't get too pissed if after a month or two there's a little bump in her belly".

"She wouldn't fall for your charms," I say, unable to hide the disgust in my voice. "Victoria's a lady of -"

"Victoria, eh?" he says, smiling. "Nice name. I'll be sure to remember it as I'm sticking my tongue in her pussy".

Turning and walking back over to the bar, I pour myself another whiskey. This business with Lawrence has clearly run its course. There was a time when I thought he could be molded and shaped, turned into something useful; later, I realized he could be a potent weapon; now, finally, I realize he's a liability. Reaching slowly into my inside jacket pocket, I feel the cold handle of my pistol. If I were to be seen to corner the rascal and shoot him dead, everyone would hail me as a hero. Perhaps Victoria would fall for me, and I'd be set for life.

"Don't even think about it," Lawrence says suddenly from close behind me, his breath feeling hot against the back of my neck. "Trust me, I'm smart enough to have left a little insurance policy set up. You kill me, you'll regret it. I strongly advise you to take your hand off the butt of that gun you've inevitably got stashed away in your coat pocket, Mr. Caster".

Keeping my hand on the pistol, I drink a shot of whiskey. Lawrence is a lot of things, but he's never been smart. I don't see that he could outwit me, and it's not as if the young man has any friends or family in Devil's Briar. I believe I'm capable of ascertaining when I'm being hoodwinked, and this is one such moment. Lawrence is all about the pose, but beneath his cocky veneer he has no substance. He's only a man. He can be killed.

"You love her, don't you?" he whispers. "You're a fat old man, and you've laid eyes on a beautiful young lady and you've managed to fall in love with her". He laughs; again, I feel his hot breath on my neck. "I tell you what, fatso. I'll make you a deal. When I fuck her, which might be tonight if I can be bothered, I'll try really hard to resist the urge to wring her neck when I'm done. I'll leave her alive, bleeding a little, all tingly and covered in -"

"You will not!" I say, turning to him, raising the gun to his face and pulling the trigger. The bang is so loud, I'm knocked back into the bar; at the same time, the side of Lawrence's head explodes with such force that I feel my face sprayed by a fine mist of blood. I stare as he staggers back and finally his body slumps to the floor. Startled, I barely have time to compose myself before the door opens and Henry rushes through, followed by Victoria.

"What the hell's going on in here?" Henry shouts, before stopping as he sees Lawrence's body. Turning around, Henry immediately grabs Victoria and ushers her out of the bar, but I see the look of shock in her eyes as she lays eyes upon the hideous mess of Lawrence's bloodied head. Dear Lord, forgive me that I caused such an innocent creature to witness such hideousness; Heavenly Father, keep her purity safe.

Still holding the pistol, I step over to Lawrence's body and peer at what's left of his face. The bullet has blown away much of the left side of his head, and has pushed his left eye to the spot above his nose, making him look somewhat like a cyclops. Blood is pouring from the hole on his temple, and pieces of white brain matter are sprayed across the floor along with small fragments of bone. His remaining good eye stares straight at me, but there can be absolutely no doubt that the man is dead. Feeling my heart pounding in my chest, I take a deep breath and manage to get calm my nerves a little. I walk over to fetch my cane from the corner, but I make the mistake of glancing back down at Lawrence's body; he's still looking directly at me, his eye having moved to follow me across the room. I hurry back over to him, raise the pistol and fire once more into his head. Finally, the bastard is dead.

Leaving my walking cane behind, I struggle through to the reception area and find Victoria sobbing on the couch, with Henry comforting her. Seeing the tears rolling down her face, I'm shocked by the thought that I'm partially responsible for her pain. Then again, her anguish would have been all the greater if Lawrence had been allowed to live, and if he'd been able to get his wicked way with her. It's better this way. She'll recover from the shock, and soon she'll be in a position to consider a marriage proposal from a great man such as myself. As horrific as things might seem at this particular moment, I'm quite certain that Victoria will recover and all will eventually be well with the world.

"Dear God," Henry says angrily, looking up at me, "will you not go and clean yourself up?"

Victoria glances up at me, and gasps in horror before burying her face in Henry's shoulder. Looking down, I see that my shirt is covered in blood; I reach a hand up to my face and find that I'm caked in Lawrence's earthly remains. Uncertain as to what I should say, I stumble to the exit, not even taking the time to go back and fetch my walking cane. I must get to my house, clean myself up and prepare to tell my people that I have saved them from the monster.

Chapter Seven

Today.

"Are you still saying this isn't creepy?" I ask Bill, as we sit on the steps outside the hotel. It's getting late now; the sun has dipped behind the trees, and dusk has fallen across the empty town. The huge crucifix looms in the darkness, and above us there's a blanket of beautiful stars. All around us, there are the empty buildings of a place that was forgotten for so long. Fortunately, I fetched a couple of flashlights from the truck when I went back to get Bill's rucksack, so at least we'll be able to see during the night.

"It's calm," Bill replies. "And peaceful. Not creepy". He takes a drag on his cigarette. "It feels good to be away from the city. Think about it, Paula. There's no-one around for a hundred miles in any direction. We're all alone here. How many people can say that they get a whole damn town to themselves?" He turns to me. "Thanks for agreeing to stay".

"It's just for one night," I tell him. "We can work tomorrow during the day, but I want to head home in the evening. Got it?"

He nods. "I'll get a proper team together so we can come back next week. This could be the biggest find for decades. We're going to dig through the history of this town and find out exactly what happened. I want to know everything. Who lived here. What they did. What they ate. What they wore".

"Where they went?"

"Where they went," he agrees. "A town doesn't just stop existing like this. The people of Devil's Briar didn't just disappear into thin air. This isn't another Roanoke". He sighs. "There's a story here, Paula. I can feel it in my gut. Something happened in Devil's Briar. Something extraordinary".

"Careful," I say, "you're starting to sound like you believe in impossible things".

"Something extraordinary and
rational
," he replies, correcting himself. "I don't believe in that supernatural crap any more than you do. Whatever happened here, it clearly killed the town stone dead. The people obviously left en masse, and I want to know why. I also want to know why word of Devil's Briar never spread. This place should be in the history books".

Smiling, I reach over and take his hand in mine. "Thanks to you, it'll get there eventually".

He leans over and kisses me on the cheek. "Thank you," he says.

"You don't need to keep saying that," I tell him. "It's kind of fun poking around up here".

"I don't mean just for this," he replies. "I mean for everything. The past year would've been impossible to deal with if you hadn't... I don't know if I'd still be here".

"Don't talk like that," I say.

"I mean it". He squeezes my hand for a moment. "You saved my life, and I'm going to repay you. As soon as I've finished fucking about in the dust up here, I'm gonna take you on that holiday you've always wanted. We'll go to the Maldives and we'll spend two whole weeks doing nothing but swimming and walking along the beach -"

"You really don't have to," I say.

"I want to," he replies. "You deserve it".

"We'll see," I say. To be honest, the last thing I want to hear right now is a load of promises that he won't be able to keep. There's no chance he'll follow through; his work will take over again, and things will more or less go back to normal. It's weird, but I've spent so much time lately hoping that we'll get our 'normal' lives back, I forgot that I was never that happy in the first place. Before the accident, I was thinking about leaving Bill; if things go back to 'normal', I'll be in the same situation. This isn't the kind of life I want. Maybe I should just make sure Bill's happy in his work, and then think about getting a divorce.

"You want to see our room?" he asks suddenly, stubbing his cigarette out on the ground. He grabs his rucksack.

"Our room?" I turn to him, before looking up at the imposing edifice of the hotel. "Right. Sure".

Taking my hand, he leads me into the reception and then up to the first floor. "It's the largest room in the whole damn building," he says as he opens the door and shines the flashlight inside to disturb the darkness. "Welcome to the master suite. It's a little dusty, but I don't think we're going to get away from the dust while we're here. What do you think?"

I step into the room and find that, surprisingly, it's not too bad. It's fairly large, and there's a big double bed over on one side. "We need to open a window," I say, walking over and struggling with the latch for a moment before I'm finally able to slide the window up. A cool breeze enters the room, immediately making the place seem less stuffy. "Give it a few minutes," I say, "and it should feel a lot better". I turn and shine the flashlight across the room. "Nice wallpaper," I add, feeling slightly creeped out by the yellow patterns all over the walls.

"You think you can sleep in here?" Bill asks with a smile as he pushes the door shut and drops his rucksack on the floor. "You sure you won't be listening out for ghouls and ghosts?"

"I'll try to keep my imagination in check," I reply. "Like a good girl".

"Bed's firm," he says, pushing a hand down onto the mattress. "We'll have to test it out later".

"Maybe," I say, smiling as I spot something on the wall by the window. "Jesus, look at this," I say, shining the flashlight onto what turns out to be a small painting. It's an old, fairly crude picture of a woman bending over some washing, while a little devil hides nearby. "Talk about some Freudian shit," I say. "You know, I bet the woman in this painting would have loved it if the devil had jumped her and given her a good session in the sack. I bet all the women of Devil's Briar used to hang up their washing and get all quivery at the thought that some horned beast was eying them up".

"What nice young lady
doesn't
want to be deflowered by a devil?" Bill asks, coming over to look at the painting. He puts a hand on my waist and leans closer, kissing the side of my neck. "What do you think the good folk of Devil's Briar would say if they could see us now?"

"I think they'd be shocked and appalled," I say, turning to him. We kiss, and - as always - it's passionate but slightly forced. Neither of us wants to admit that we're not really feeling it, so we both go through the motions. We're good at pretending to want one another, and soon we're on the bed. Bill unbuttons my shirt and slips my bra away, exposing my breasts before leaning down to kiss my nipples. Putting his hand on the side of my right breast, he strokes the skin. I take a deep breath, reaching down to start unbuttoning his trousers and -

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