The Traveling Vampire Show (29 page)

“Could be anything,” I said.

“Is it the car from the graveyard?” Slim asked.

“You got me,” I said.

“I think so,” said Rusty.

“It looked like it might’ve just been sitting there waiting for us.”

“Or for someone,” I said. “Maybe just waiting for anyone to go by.”

Her voice low and steady, Slim said, “Either way, we’re it.”

“Long as all they do is follow us ...,” Rusty muttered.

“We’ll get to town pretty soon,” I said.

“We’re not that close,” Slim pointed out.

“Five minutes?”

“More like ten,” Rusty said.

“Who do you think they are?” Slim asked.

“God knows,” I muttered.

“How about Scotty or one of those guys?” Rusty asked.

“They wouldn’t dare,” Slim said.

“They’d love to nail us,” I said.

“Yeah, but they know what’ll happen if they try.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have your bow handy, would you?” Rusty asked.

“No. But they don’t know that.”

“I almost hope it is Scotty,” I said.

“As opposed to whom?” Slim asked.

“I don’t know. Some creep like Starkweather or...”

“Hey,” Rusty said. “Maybe it’s an artist and he wants to make us into statues. Slap some clay on us....”

“Crap!” Slim cried out.

Startled, I leaned past Rusty and looked at Slim. Her head was turned away, her short hair blowing. Just as I noticed the engine noises growing louder, the dark shape of the Cadillac filled her side window. It was no more than three feet away, in the lane for oncoming traffic.

So far, there was no oncoming traffic.

The big car stayed beside us. Its windows were rolled up. I tried to see through them, but couldn’t.

Slowly, the front passenger window began to lower.

“Watch out!” I yelled.

Slim hit the brakes. We were thrown forward in our seats and the Cadillac burst ahead. It zoomed up the road for a few seconds, then cut back into our lane.

Its brake lights came on, bright red in the darkness.

“Oh, shit,” Rusty muttered.

“Shit is right,” Slim said.

We stopped dead in our lane.

The Cadillac, about fifty yards ahead of us, also seemed to be stopped.

Its red brake lights went out.

Slim shut off our headlights and darkness slammed down on us.

At the rear of the Cadillac, white lights came on.

“Back-up lights,” I muttered.

They began moving slowly toward us.

“Here it comes,” Slim whispered.

“I don’t feel so good,” Rusty said.

“What’ll we do?” I asked.

Nobody said anything.

The car continued to back up. About ten feet in front of us, it stopped. All its lights went dark. It sat there.

And sat there.

“If anyone else comes along...” I said.

“We’ll see their headlights,” Slim said. “I’ll get us out of the way.”

“Speaking of which,” said Rusty, “where is everyone?”

“Still at the movies,” Slim explained.

“That’s where we oughta be,” I said. “We wouldn’t be in this fix if we’d stayed for the whole thing.”

“Parents,” Rusty muttered as if it were a curse word.

Slim chuckled softly, then added, “I guess we’ll have the last laugh if we end up getting killed.”

“We’ll be all right,” I said. “They obviously aren’t gonna ram us, or they would’ve done it by now. The thing is...” I wasn’t sure how to say it.

“What?” Slim asked.

“If someone gets out of the car...”

She leaned forward and looked at me. “Someone gets out and tries to come for us on foot, he’ll have to deal with Chief Pontiac.”

“Gonna run him over?” Rusty asked.

“If he needs it.”

We waited.

The Cadillac sat in front of us, dark, its doors shut.

Slim looked at her wristwatch. “I know his game,” she said. “He’s trying to make us late.”

“What time is it?” I asked.

“Quarter till twelve.”

“We can still make it.”

“Not if we keep sitting here.”

“If we’re late,” I said, “my Dad’s gonna kill me.”

That got a pretty good laugh from Slim and Rusty.

Then Slim said softly as if speaking to herself, “Let’s just see what happens,” and stepped on the gas. As we bolted from a standstill, she cut into the other lane.

The Cadillac sprang forward and swung to the left, blocking us.

Slim hit her brakes and swerved to the right.

The Cadillac swerved and blocked us again.

We stopped. It stopped.

We sat there in the dark, ten feet apart.

“Screw this,” Slim said. She threw her door open.

“What’re you doing?” I yelled.

“Stay here.” She started to climb out.

“Grab her!”

Rusty didn’t even try. Either he knew better than to interfere with Slim or he was eager for her to handle the situation.

Slim dodged her open door and headed for the Cadillac, taking long, quick strides. I jumped out. “Wait!” I called.

She stopped and waved me away. “Get back in the car,” she said.

“Slim!”

She whirled away and walked straight to the driver’s door of the Cadillac.

I felt my stomach drop as she bent over and knocked on the window.

“Get away from there!” I called.

She knocked again. “Hey!” she yelled.

I hurried between the two cars. Glancing toward ours, I saw that Rusty had scooted over. He now sat in the driver’s seat.

Slim was still leaning toward the window of the Cadillac. As I stepped around its rear, she said, “What’s going on, mister?” From her tone of voice, I figured the window must be open. “Why’re you...”

She suddenly tried to leap backward, but a hand shot out and grabbed the front of her T-shirt. It jerked hard. With a gasp, she stumbled forward and her head plunged into the open window.

“NO!” she squealed.

I ran toward her.

Watching.

Not wanting to believe my eyes.

Slim was inside the window to her shoulders, squirming and kicking, shoving at the window frame with her left hand to keep herself from being dragged in.

Her right arm was already inside the car.

I hit her hard in the midsection.

Tore her out of the window.

Tackled her.

Landed on top of her, smashing her against the pavement, where we almost got run over by the Pontiac. “Get in!” Rusty yelled. The passenger door flew open. “Get in! Quick!”

I scurried up, pulling at Slim. I hurled her into the front seat. Already in motion, the car started to take off without me. I chased it, running in the V of its open door.

“Hey!” I yelled.

Rusty slowed down and I dived in.

Next thing I knew, we were speeding toward town.

I leaned out and pulled the door shut. Panting for air, I sat up straight.

Rusty was stoked. “Holy jumpin’ Jesus!” he said. “Wow! Jeez! Did you see that? They grabbed her. Holy shit! Couldn’t believe it! Shit!” He slapped Slim on the thigh. “They almost got you.”

Slim quit gasping for breath long enough to say, “Tell me about it.”

“You all right?” I asked her.

“I’m here. That’s what counts. Thanks, guys.”

“No sweat,” said Rusty.

Twisting my head, I looked out the rear window. The road behind us looked empty.

“I don’t see ’em,” I said.

“Me, either,” said Rusty.

“When they come, don’t stop. Don’t stop for anything.”

“You betcha!”

“They won’t,” Slim said. “They won’t be coming.” She lifted her right hand and jangled a bunch of keys.

“Holy shit!” Rusty said.

“You got their car keys.”

“It was easy.”

As Rusty raced into town that night, Slim told us that there’d been two men in the car: one behind the wheel and another in the passenger seat. They were strangers to her.

She described them to us—and ten minutes later to my father—as being about thirty years old, white, slender, with crew cuts. They were dressed in blue jeans and white T-shirts. Though she’d only seen them in the darkness for a few seconds, she was fairly certain that the two men were identical twins.

Dad drove off to look for them.

By the time he got out to Mason Road, however, the Cadillac was gone, along with the twins who’d tried to take Slim.

They weren’t found during the weeks that followed, either.

Maybe they’d just been “passing through” and were long gone.

But we were afraid they might be out there, somewhere.

We didn’t talk about it much. Hardly ever. Probably because all three of us had a pretty good idea about what they would’ve done to Slim if they’d taken her away in their Cadillac. We didn’t want to think about it.

Especially since they might make another try for her.

We knew their car.

And they knew ours.

After that night, I kept a sharp eye out for dark Cadillacs. I’m pretty sure we all did, though we didn’t talk about it.

And our car—Slim’s—remained in the garage for almost a month after our close call on the way home from the Horrorfest. It didn’t come out again until the night of the Traveling Vampire Show.

Slim waited in the driveway while I ran into my house and placed the two full bottles of beer in the refrigerator. I was almost weak with relief as I hurried back to her car.

I climbed into the passenger seat. “That’s it,” I said.

“Beautiful,” she said. “Pulled that off without a hitch.”

We looked at each other and grinned.

Then she backed out of the driveway and steered for Rusty’s house. “When we get there,” she said, “maybe you’d better go in without me.”

“You sure?” I was hoping to have her there for moral support.

“I can do without Rusty’s mom and dad. Besides, they’ll start asking me a lot of questions if I go in. I’m sure they must’ve heard about my ‘disappearance.’ ”

“Probably.” The real reason she wouldn’t go into the house with me, I figured, was because she didn’t want Rusty’s parents to see how she was dressed. They were used to seeing her in T-shirts, not fancy blouses. Plus, her shiny, long-sleeved blouse didn’t exactly go with her ragged cut-off jeans. Rusty’s mom and dad were sure to wonder why she’d dressed so strangely.

“Just say we’re in a hurry and I’m waiting in the car.”

I nodded. With Slim waiting in the car, I might be able to get out of the house faster.

Too soon, we reached Rusty’s house. Slim pulled up to the curb and stopped. “I’ll even leave the engine running,” she said.

“Sure you don’t want to come in?” I asked.

“You’ll be fine.”

“Okay. See ya.”

I climbed out of the car. Somebody must’ve been watching for us, though, because the front door opened before I could get there. Bitsy came out. Rusty, still in the doorway, called “We’re going now!” to his parents.

An answer came from somewhere inside the house, but I couldn’t make it out.

Rusty shut the door.

All right! I wouldn’t have to face the parents, after all.

As Rusty followed his sister down the porch stairs, I said, “Hi, Bitsy.”

Smiling and looking shy, she said, “Hi, Dwight. Thank you for inviting me to the movies.”

“Oh, you’re welcome. Glad to have you.”

She had dressed up for the occasion. Instead of her usual T-shirt and cut-off jeans, she was wearing a sleeveless sundress. Instead of being barefoot, she wore sandals. Hanging from one shoulder was a white, patent leather purse.

“You look very nice tonight,” I said. What was I supposed to say?

“Thank you, Dwight.”

“You’re a life-saver,” Rusty told me.

“No sweat.”

He hurried ahead. I’d left the passenger door open. He climbed in.

Smiling at me, he said, “Maybe you two lovebirds should sit together in the back.”

“That was the plan,” I said.

Sure it was.

I opened the back door and held it for Bitsy. Then I got in and shut the door.

“Hey, Slim,” Rusty said.

“Hey, Rusty.” Looking over her shoulder, she said, “How you doing, Bitsy?”

“Oh, just fine, thank you. Thank you for asking me to come with.”

“Our pleasure,” Slim told her. Facing forward again, she took off.

Bitsy smiled at me from her side of the back seat, but didn’t try to come any closer. “I’m sorry to hear about your father’s accident,” she said.

Thanks for reminding me, I thought.

“Thanks.” I said.

“Is he going to be all right?”

“I guess so. They’re just keeping him overnight in the hospital to be on the safe side.”

“I’m sure that’s a good idea.”

“Hey, Bitsy?” Slim said.

“Yes?”

“We’re stopping by Lee Thompson’s house before we head over to the drive-in.”

“Really? What fort’

“Don’t be such a nosy pain in the ass,” Rusty said.

I said, “Leave her alone” at about the same moment Slim said, “Cut it out, Rusty.”

Even though there wasn’t much light in the back seat, enough came in through the windows for me to see Bitsy turn her head toward Rusty and cast a self-satisfied smile in his direction. I saw the smile, but he didn’t. He was looking straight ahead.

To Bitsy, I explained, “My brother’s out of town for the weekend. We just want to drop in on Lee and make sure she’s okay.”

“Is something wrong?”

“A lot of weird stuff’s been going on today,” Slim said.

“Like what?”

“Come on, guys,” Rusty said, a pleading whine in his voice. “She tells. I don’t want my mom and dad knowing all my business.”

“I won’t tell,” Bitsy said.

“Bullshit,” Rusty said.

Slim stopped the car. Looking out the window, I saw that we were at the curb in front of Lee’s house. Her pickup truck was parked in the driveway.

The windows of her house were dark.

“Doesn’t look like she’s home,” Rusty said.

“I’ll go see.” I opened my door.

“I’m coming with you,” Rusty said, opening his.

“Me too,” said Bitsy.

Slim shrugged, shut off the engine and killed the headlights. Moments later, all four of us were walking toward the front door of Lee’s house.

“Did Lee go somewhere?” Rusty asked in a hushed voice.

“We don’t know,” Slim said.