Out Are the Lights (6 page)

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Authors: Richard Laymon

BOOK: Out Are the Lights
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    'Okay. I'll be sure to give her the message. Nice talking to you.'
    'Thanks. Good-bye, now.'
    'Good-bye.'
    Freya hung up. She hurried into the living-room. Monster Walks had already started. 'Damn,' she muttered, and dropped to the couch. The screen went blank for a moment.
    'Howdy friends! Slim Claymore here to invite you to come on down to…' She changed the channel. '… here to invite you to come on down…' Same commercial, slightly different timing.
    She switched again, this time to Bugs Bunny. Bugs was preferable to Slim. She watched the hare outsmart Elmer, then she turned back to the movie station.
    '… where prices are so low you'll have a slim chance of finding a better deal.'
    The movie came on.
    
***
    
    It was nearly over, an hour later, when the telephone rang again.
    'Hello?' she asked.
    'Hello. I'm calling about the apartment. I saw the ad. this morning, and I'm wondering if you're still in the market for a roommate.'
    'I sure am,' Freya said. 'Would you like to stop by and have a look around?'
    'I'd love to. When would be a convenient time for you?'
    'The sooner, the better.'
    'Fine. I'll be there in about fifteen minutes. My name's Nancy.'
    'Very good. See you then.'
    
***
    
    Exactly fifteen minutes passed before the doorbell rang. Freya opened the door.
    'Hi, I'm Nancy.'
    Nancy wore sunglasses on top of her head, resting lightly in a tuft of blonde curls. Her eyes were bright, her skin clear, her nose slightly upturned.
    
A cute girl,
Freya thought.
    She wore a short sleeved jumpsuit of pale blue. Its zipper, open several inches, showed a long V of pale throat and chest, 'I'm Freya. Come on in.'
    'Thank you.'
    'Are you new to Pacifica Coast?'
    'I've been here a few days. I'm staying at the Travel Inn till I find a more permanent place.'
    'Well, maybe this is it.'
    'Maybe so.'
    She showed Nancy the living-room, then the kitchen. 'Are you a student?' she asked.
    'I feel like I've always been a student.'
    'What field?'
    'Psych.'
    'Gonna be a shrink, huh?'
    Nancy laughed. 'I hope so.'
    'You seem… too mature for a freshman.'
    'Oh, I'm transferring from Santa Monica College. I have to pick up three credits this summer, and I'll start as a junior.'
    'Is this your first time away from home, Nancy?'
    'Oh, I've gone off to camp, and stuff. You know. But I've never lived on my own before, if that's what you mean.'
    'You lived with your parents in Santa Monica?'
    She nodded.
    'This would be your bedroom, here.' They entered the sunlit room, 'it comes furnished, as you can see.'
    Nancy wandered the room, looking into the closet, pushing down on the mattress, glancing out the windows. 'This is very nice.'
    'So are you,' Freya said in a low voice. 'You're… very nice.' She reached out for the tab of Nancy 's zipper.
    'Hey!' Nancy knocked her hand away. 'No thanks. Jeez!' She shook her head, 'I'm not into that kind of stuff.'
    'Ever try it?'
    Blushing, Nancy shook her head.
    Freya drew down her tube-top. Her breasts popped free.
    'No!'
    'Come on, darling, touch.'
    'No!' Nancy rushed past her.
    The front door slammed.
    The last of Nancy.
    Freya pulled up her top, returned to the living-room, and picked up the TV Guide.
    She sighed.
    Christ, she was getting tired of this.
    If it's not one thing, it's another.
    Sooner or later, though, the right girl would show up. A girl perfect in every way. A girl with no close family. A girl like Tina.
    
CHAPTER EIGHT
    
    Brit phoned Pete and got a recording.
    'Pete Harvey, Private Investigations. I'm speaking to you, but I'm not here. If you leave a message, I'll get back to you as soon as possible. At the sound of the tone, have at it.'
    The tone beeped.
    'Forget it,' Brit said, and hung up.
    She didn't want to wait around for him to call back. She wanted him now. She had no idea where he might be, though. So forget it. She would go alone.
    Might be better, that way. If she asked Pete to go along, he might think she was getting too serious about him. He seemed a bit wary about getting involved.
    With her, anyway.
    Three dates already, and he hadn't slept with her yet. Well, some guys like to take it slow.
    She threw a few things into her suitcase, and went down to the car.
    
***
    
    As she drove up the coast, she had second thoughts about going without Pete. He'd be a good man to have around, if she ran into trouble. Something definitely fishy about Tina and the movie. And the roommate.
    The farther she drove, the more nervous she grew. Finally, she stopped at a Denny's, and used a pay phone. Pete's recording answered.
    'Damn it!'
    She banged the phone down.
    The hell with him.
    She shoved through the door and rushed across the lot to her car. She started the engine. For a moment, she considered heading back home.
    That'd be chickenshit.
    Besides, she was almost to Pacifica Coast. In half an hour, she'd be there.
    God, she'd spent four years in that little town. Nothing to be afraid of.
    Probably wasn't even Tina, in that movie. And if it was her, so what? It was just a movie.
    They're supposed to look real, for Godsake. Look at
The Exorcist,
how they made Linda Blair's head spin around. That looked real. Look at
The Omen
, how that sheet of glass chopped off David Warner's head. That looked real too. Just as real as Tina's blood spurting all over the place.
    She'd seen Linda Blair in plenty of films after
The Exorcist
. Same with David Warner. She knew, for a fact, they'd lived through those shots. Hell, it's only special effects.
    Tina was different.
    
Only because I know her.
    Brit left the parking lot, and headed for Pacifica Coast.
    
Only because I know Tina,
she thought. And because the theater was creepy. And because the film had an amateur, grainy look that made it all seem rather cheap and sleazy like some of those porno films she used to see with Willy.
    Weird Willy.
    Liked to practice what he saw on the screen. She went along with it. too. until he got too rough. The whip was the last straw.
    Weird Willy. His great ambition in life was to see a 'snuff movie'.
    God have mercy on his girlfriend, if he ever saw one of…
    Snuff movies?
    The thought hit her like a punch in the stomach.
    'Ridiculous,' she said aloud.
    But she realised that the idea had been in her mind for a long time, lurking there, whispering its warning. That's why she phoned Tina, this morning.
    That's why the voice of the roommate, Freya, had given her a chill of dread. Because, even on the telephone, she'd recognized the voice.
    The voice of Mary in the film.
    Tina's voice.
    
***
    
    Brit drove through downtown Pacifica Coast, and parked in front of the police station.
    Her stomach churned.
    
What will I tell them?
    
I saw my friend killed in a movie, and I think it might've been real. Oh, why's that? Because they didn't use her real name in the credits, and it wasn't her voice. Are you sure it was, indeed, your friend? I'm almost positive. She's missing, and… (Freya said she'd gone off with a boyfriend-but Freya must be in on it.) Can't we check?
    And the police would drive her out to Tina's apartment, and Tina would open the door.
    She'd better make sure.
    She left the car, and walked to a service station on the next block. She dropped a dime into the public telephone, and dialed.
    Her heart raced. The black phone was slippery in her hand.
    'Hello?'
    'Hello, Freya.'
    'Who is this, please?'
    'Brit Anderson. I called this morning.'
    'Oh yes.'
    'Is Tina there?'
    'Yes, she is. Just a moment, please.'
    Brit shut her eyes and sighed. She wiped her trembling hands on her slacks.
    
Thank God.
    The whole thing had been a figment of her imagination. It was someone else in the movie. Not Tina, at all. A look-alike with a voice like Freya.
    'Hello?' Freya's voice.
    'Yes?'
    'Tina's in the shower, just now. Could she call you when she's out?'
    'Well… I'm calling from a public phone. I'm here in town, though. Maybe I could just drop over in about ten minutes.'
    'Fine. I'll tell her.'
    
***
    
    Brit parked across the street from the apartment house. She climbed from the car. The afternoon sun was hot on her face, but she felt a cool breeze from the ocean.
    She walked across the street on weak legs.
God, what a day!
She felt exhausted, emotionally drained, but elated.
    She'd felt like this, all day, after the quake of '72.
    Disaster over. Friends, loved ones, and self miraculously intact.
    She passed through a squeaking gate, walked alongside the deserted, glistening pool, and climbed the stairs to the balcony.
    Apartment 210.
    She knocked on the door.
    It was opened by a lean, dishwater blonde wearing tight shorts and a tube-top. 'Brit?' the woman asked.
    'Yes.'
    'I'm Freya. Come on in.'
    She entered. The curtains were shut, 'I'll tell Tina you're here.'
    Freya crossed the room. Her shorts were too small. Pale crescents of buttock showed beneath the pockets. She disappeared. Brit heard her knock. 'Tina, your friend's here.'
    Freya came back. 'She'll be out in a minute. Christ, she takes forever in there. Can I get you something to drink? Some wine, maybe?'
    'That'd be great.'
    'Red or white?'
    'White, please.'
    She sat on the couch. Moments later, Freya returned with two glasses of white wine.
    'So, you're Tina's old roommate from college days?'
    'Yeah.' The wine was cold and fruity, and not too sweet.
    'Do you live near here?'
    ' Los Angeles.'
    'Oh? I used to live there. How do you like it?'
    'Too many people. That's the only trouble. But lots of things to do.' Her cheeks felt numb. 'I like movies.'
    'Oh, so do I. Especially thrillers.'
    'Me too. That… That's partly why I'm here.' She heard a strange sound, like a distant roar. But it came from inside her head. 'Thought I saw Tina… in a film.'
    Freya grinned. 'At the Haunted Palace?'
    'Yeah.' She tried to set down her empty glass, but dropped it.
    'Oh, you did.'
    'Schreg da… Sch…'
    '
Schreck the Vampire
.'
    Brit realized, vaguely, that her face was about to hit the coffee table.
    Then it did.
    
CHAPTER NINE
    
    On Wednesday morning, Connie went to the main branch of the Santa Monica public library. She took the bus.
    Though she hated driving near buses and considered their drivers madmen intent on cutting off every car nearby, she found that she enjoyed riding inside them. Inside the bus, she could relax. She didn't have to watch the road, or dodge maniacal bus drivers.
    When it reached her stop, she moved up the aisle toward the front. The aisle was clear except for a boy with a bushy Afro. On top of his shoulder, he held a radio as big as an attache case. He grinned and turned sideways to let her by.
    On the sidewalk, she watched the bus pull forward and ease to the left, ignoring the car beside it. The car's brake-lights flashed on. It stopped abruptly to make way for the bus, and was nearly rear-ended by a station wagon.
    'Nice,' Connie muttered.
    In the library, she found four books about Mississippi paddlewheel boats. She checked them out, not bothering to browse the fiction or even to check for her own books. At other times, she'd done both. Disappointing results. Now, she used the library only for research.
    
***
    
    With the four books in her shoulder bag, she walked down Santa Monica Boulevard to the small mall. She spent a long time in a paperback bookstore. They carried both of her titles. After gloating, she moved on. She bought five books, and left the store.
    She stared across the sunny mall at Lane Brothers, then checked her wristwatch. A quarter till twelve.
    Why not?
    Making a wide circle to avoid contact with a grimy panhandler, she walked to the entrance of the clothing store. She stepped inside. She spotted three young, well-dressed men among the racks, but not Dal.

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