Funland (43 page)

She rolled cautiously away from him and left the bed. At the foot of it she picked up the sheet and covers that had been kicked to the floor while they made love. She spread them over him. He didn’t move.

Robin smiled.

The poor guy is wiped out, she thought.

Who isn’t?

She felt weak all over, herself. Her muscles were warm and shaky, as if they’d been turned into pudding. The area around her mouth felt puffy and tingling from the ceaseless kissing. Her cheeks burned slightly from the chafe of his whiskers. So did her shoulders, and the sides of her neck, and her breasts. Her nipples were tender and achy. She felt mushy and a little raw inside.

Maybe we overdid it just a little bit, she thought, and smiled again.

She walked toward the dresser, watching her slow progress in the mirror. The way she held herself and hobbled, she looked as if she expected any quick movement to jostle something loose. When she reached the dresser, she bent over and puffed out each of the candles. Then she made her way to the nightstand on Nate’s side of the bed and blew out that candle. She was tempted to crawl over him, but she didn’t want to disturb his sleep. So she forced her weary, aching body to circle the bed. Before snuffing the last candle, she bent over and carefully eased Nate’s arm down against his side.

At last she blew out the candle and slipped under the covers. She rolled toward Nate in the darkness, squirmed closer until she felt the heat of his skin, and rested her arm gently on his chest. She listened to his breathing. She kissed his shoulder.

He made a quiet whimpery sound.

Dreaming a bad dream.

Robin rubbed his chest, hoping to distract him from whatever bad images had seized his sleeping mind. The sound of his breathing didn’t change. He still slept. Robin listened, ready to wake him if he should whimper again.

Was he dreaming of Poppinsack’s fall?

She wished she could make it go away for him. Kiss him and make him well.

If love could only cure him…

But he was doomed to live with the guilt. He had his burden, and Robin had hers.

Thank God we told each other, she thought.

She had loved him before, but the sharing of their awful secrets had been like a fire that fused their souls to one another.

She remembered herself in the spa with him, clutching his racked body tight against her while she sobbed, their tears mingling, and how she had felt as if they were one person, and how they had kept crying while they kissed.

As her mind lingered on the memories, she slipped into sleep.

Tanya shut off the headlights. Darkness collapsed over the road ahead. She swung onto a narrow driveway that rose in front of the car like a dim gray path through the woods. She shifted to a lower gear, but didn’t accelerate, apparently to prevent a swell of engine noise that might warn of their approach.

“Are you sure they’re here?” Jeremy whispered.

“They’re here,” Tanya said. “It was supposed to be me.”

“Huh?”

“We had it all planned. His folks are gone till Wednesday. I was going to stay with him.”

“Gosh.”

“The rotten shit.”

“He must be crazy, dumping you for that girl.”

“Bad mistake. He’s gonna find out how bad.”

They came to the top of the slope. The house beyond the clearing was a vague shape of steep roofs. All its lights were out. Moonlight gleamed on some of the windows. It looked gloomy and abandoned.

Jeremy hoped it
was
abandoned.

He felt sick with dread.

He had to stand by Tanya, no matter what, but it would be so wonderful if they got into the house and nobody was there.

He rubbed his sweaty hands on the legs of his corduroys, but they were encased in the gloves and stayed wet.

It’ll be all right, he told himself.

She’d said she would take care of Nate. Jeremy only had to worry about the girl. That shouldn’t be a problem. He’d taken on two of them in front of the Oddities—and loved it. Here was his chance to fight the banjo girl.

So strange. After his first encounter with her on the boardwalk, he’d imagined how it would be.

Tanya seemed to be breathing life into his wildest dreams, making them real with her dark magic.

I don’t want to fight that girl, he thought. I don’t want it real.

He trembled with fear, trembled with a sharp ache of desire.

Please, let nobody be home.

The car glided to a stop in front of the house’s porch. Tanya shifted to Park and set the emergency brake. The engine rumbled quietly as she opened her door and climbed out. Jeremy almost reminded her to turn it off, but realized she had no key.

He got out. He moved on shaky legs to the front of the car while Tanya removed something from the backseat. She came toward him carrying a paper sack at her side.

“What’s in that?” he whispered.

“Stuff,” she said. “You’ll see.”

He followed her up the porch stairs to the front door. With a key from her sweatshirt pocket, she unlocked it.

At least we don’t have to break in, Jeremy thought.

Tanya swung the door open. Inside was darkness.

They entered the foyer, and she shut the door without making a sound.

Jeremy heard only the drumming of his heart. It pounded so hard he thought he could feel the blood surging through his vessels.

Tanya squatted down. She set the bag on the floor. When she reached into it, there came a quiet metallic rattle. Jeremy recognized the sound and thought of the old bum. In the faint light from the windows he saw Tanya’s arm come out and lift toward him. He saw the dangling bracelet of a handcuff. She gave the cuffs to him and slipped a second pair into her sweatshirt pouch.

She pulled a hammer out of the bag and handed it to Jeremy.

He felt his breath squeeze out. His stomach knotted. Icy fingers seemed to clench his scrotum.

She took out a hatchet for herself and stood up, leaving the bag on the floor.

Jeremy whispered in a choked voice, “We aren’t going to kill them, are we?”

“What’s the fun of that?”

“What’re we gonna do?”

“The girl comes with us. Nate doesn’t. Come on.”

Shivering and weak, he followed Tanya to a stairway. They climbed slowly toward the second floor. Each time a stair creaked, Jeremy flinched. Somehow, the mad thud of his heart was causing a dry clicking noise in his throat. He swallowed hard, and the sound stopped.

The stairway seemed endless.

I could’ve been at Shiner’s right now, Jeremy thought. God, why didn’t I go there instead?

Handcuffs. A hammer. A hatchet.

It was worse than he could’ve imagined.

He pictured himself whirling around and racing down the stairs—running from the house and from Tanya and from whatever form of madness waited for him in the minutes ahead.

Then he remembered his hand inside her sweatshirt.

We’ll have time later. For everything.

She was three stairs above him, barely visible in the darkness. He knew that she was naked under the sweatclothes.

He knew that he wouldn’t run.

She waited for him at the top of the stairway. “Don’t do anything till I say so,” she whispered.

Jeremy nodded. He pushed the handcuffs into a pocket of his jacket.

Side by side, they walked down the hall. Tanya stopped at the open door of a bedroom. She peered inside. For a long time she didn’t move. Then she pressed the head of the hatchet against Jeremy’s back and nudged him forward. He entered the room. In the dim moonlight from the windows, he saw a bed. The covers were mounded.

It’s them.

Tanya was right. They’re here.

What if she lied about killing them?

What am I doing here?

She closed the door. She nudged Jeremy’s left forearm with the hatchet, then put it into his hand. Why wasn’t she keeping it for herself?

She wants both hands free, Jeremy realized as he watched her sneak across the room, not toward the bed but toward a dresser by the wall. At the end of the dresser was a straight-backed chair. She picked it up and started to return.

If I don’t let her have the hatchet…

She set the chair down silently on the carpet in front of the door, tipped it backward, and eased its backpiece under the knob.

The chair would prevent anyone from entering the room, but Jeremy knew it had a different purpose. It was there to stop a quick escape.

She took hold of the hatchet. Jeremy made no attempt to keep it from her. She switched it to her left hand, gripped his wrist, and guided him to the foot of the bed. From here he could hear the breathing of the people beneath the covers.

Tanya glided along the left side of the bed. She bent low over the sleeping form. Her right hand took the hatchet.

Jeremy saw the hatchet rise.

Chop down.

No!

The thud flashed pain through his own head. He cringed and felt his legs go rubbery, but he heard a harsh gasp, and the covers on the other side of the bed suddenly flew up. “Get her!” Tanya snapped.

The girl was naked and dusky against the white sheets, one hand thrusting the blankets aside as she squirmed to free her legs and sit up.

He dived onto her, smashing her down. The mattress bounced her against him. She twisted and writhed. He pinned one hand, but the other was free and he couldn’t catch it because of the hammer. Her nails ripped streaks of fire down his cheek. He let the hammer fall. As it pounded the floor, he grabbed her wrist.

Now I’ve got you!

She bucked, hurling him sideways. He fell. His back slammed the carpeted floor. The hammer jabbed his shoulder blade. She came down on top of him, whimpering and snarling. She bit his chin and he cried out, released her wrists, and punched her in the face. The blow ripped her teeth from his flesh. In a frenzy of pain, Jeremy grabbed the short hair over her ears and twisted her head, rolling with her as he forced her sprawling onto the floor beside him.

She drove a knee into his stomach. His breath blasted out. He doubled up, hugging his belly.

“What the fuck’s going on!” Tanya’s voice.

Sucking for air, Jeremy saw the girl push herself up and get to her feet.

The room filled with light.

The girl seemed to freeze in position, hunched over and ready to run, head turned, looking over her shoulder toward the other side of the bed.

“Don’t move a muscle,” Tanya warned.

Jeremy struggled to sit up. Panting and clutching his chin, he saw Tanya glaring at the girl. She was bent over Nate’s motionless body, the hatchet poised for another strike. In the light from the lamp beside her, he saw that Nate’s face was bathed with blood that spilled out of a gash on his forehead. No huge, gaping wound, though. Tanya hadn’t chopped him with the hatchet’s sharp edge. But it was the sharp edge, now, that hovered above him.

“Get her clothes for her, Duke. She’s gotta look right.”

Nodding, he picked up his hammer and stood. He stepped closer to the girl. She hadn’t moved since Tanya turned the lamp on. She didn’t look back at Jeremy.

“Put your hands on your head,” he gasped.

Her body straightened. She raised her arms and interlaced her fingers on top of her head.

Jeremy stared at her back, her smooth tanned skin, the pale mounds of her buttocks, her slender legs.

He took his hand away from his chin. The rubber glove was slick with blood.

He raked the claws of the hammer down the middle of the girl’s back. She made a hissing sound, and flinched rigid as the claws gouged twin furrows in her skin. Blood began to well from the rips.

He glanced at Tanya.

Tanya nodded. She wore a tight smile.

Jeremy stepped to the front of the girl. Her eyes fixed on him. They looked frightened and hurt, but they were filled with loathing, as if she longed to destroy him.

He smeared his blood onto her chin and cheeks. He slapped her face, rocking her head sideways. But she faced him again. She bared her teeth and kept glaring at him, but didn’t resist as his hand moved over her, caressing, squeezing, pinching. When he rammed the hammer head into her belly, she folded and dropped to her knees, wheezing for air. His knee crashed her mouth shut, snapped her head backward, and she tumbled sprawling onto the floor.

“That’s enough,” Tanya said. “We’re running low on time.”

While he searched for the girl’s clothes, Tanya cuffed one of Nate’s hands to the bed frame. Jeremy found the backpack inside the closet. He took jeans and a faded blue work shirt from the pack. He tossed them onto the girl and watched her slow, pained struggle to put them on. Before she could button the shirt, he snatched her by the hair, hauled her up, and cuffed her hands behind her back.

He took off his belt, slipped one end through the buckle, and dropped the loop over the girl’s head.

Tanya grabbed Nate’s keys off the top of the dresser. She stuffed them into her pouch, then turned off the light.

“Okay,” she said. “When we get outside, I’ll bust a window to make it look like a break-in. Don’t let me forget.”

“Right,” Jeremy said.

Pulling his belt like a leash, he led the girl into the dark hallway.

Thirty-nine

The bed wobbled slightly, stirring Dave from sleep. Through his closed eyelids he saw light. Is it morning? he wondered. Joan had made him set the alarm clock for midnight, but maybe he’d turned it off in his sleep or something. He hoped so. He hoped it was morning.

A bare bottom sat down on him. He squirmed under the pleasant weight and opened his eyes. With a tug of disappointment and fear, he saw that the light came from the bedside lamp. Joan was straddling him, hands against the mattress near his shoulders. She smiled gently and lowered herself. Her nipples touched his chest, and she rocked herself to make them move, stroking him. Then he felt the solid warm heaviness of her breasts. They pushed against him. Her mouth covered his.

He ran his hands slowly up and down her back.

She lifted her mouth away from him. “Time to shine, honey.”

“Time to
rise
and shine,” he said.