Part 24 (1/2)

I spent a lot of time watching her, wondering if I oughta turn off her switch. I mean, I knew I should. The b.i.t.c.h and her whole bunch would be after me for doing her playmate, and I'd be up s.h.i.+t creek if they ever got their hands on me. But I tell you what, I was scared. You'd be scared too. She's not what you'd call normal. I figured, what if I made a try for her and I couldn't kill her no matter what I did? She's got this magic, right? I finally figure I'm not gonna chance it. I'll just pull a vanis.h.i.+ng act.

So I sneak out and get back to my room for the rest of the beans. Then it's adios.

No sweat at all, getting out of the compound. I walked right past the guards. Nothing there for them to see, except the beans in my hand, and those aren't big enough that anybody'd notice. The one in my mouth, that's invisible. Guess'cause it's mixed up in my spit. I figured out, after a bit, I could pop'em all in my mouth when I needed to hide'em. Smart, huh? Better than leaving the things behind when I wanted to sneak in someplace: lost two, that way.

Okay, so I'm out of the compound and walking down this road. It's three miles, all of it through Group property, till I get to a highway. Remember now, I'm not only bare-a.s.s, I'm barefoot. You try walking three miles barefoot, sometime.

I wanted a car bad. You get out in the sticks around midnight and see how many cars go by. Zip. And the ones that did come along, how was I gonna stop'em? I finally made it to a farm house, dog tired. Speaking of dogs, that's where I ran in to my first. I don't know if they can see me or what, but they sure as s.h.i.+t know where to find me. This one at the farm raised h.e.l.l, even took a nip out of my leg before I killed it.

Farmer Joe came out to snoop around, and that gave me a chance to get inside. I waited till he was back in bed, then got a knife and went upstairs and slit his gullet. Got the wife, too. They had three kids. Just one was a girl. I had a good time with her.

After that, I wanted to sack out. But what am I gonna do with the bean in my mouth? Don't want it falling out while I'm asleep. So I just went ahead and swallowed it.

I woke up, after a couple of hours, when this car pulled up in front. There's Laveda, and half a dozen guys from the compound. The guys are wearing these weird masks. What they are, I figure out later, they're infrared gadgets. Put on one of those suckers, and you can see me. See my heat image. Those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds from The Group think of everything.

Okay, I figured they wouldn't know for sure I was there. They might think I just did my business and moved on, long as they didn't see me. So I hid. I ran over to the boys' room, and dumped the c.r.a.p out of their toy box and hid in there. Sure enough, they didn't find me. Spent half an hour turning the house, then gave up.

But the f.u.c.kers set the place on fire. Insurance, I guess. Just in case they'd missed me. Tells you something, don't it? Sure told me something. Told me they wanted my a.s.s dead.

I just about cooked, but I got out of that place. Their car was gone. Great, I'm home free. Then I catch a slug in the shoulder and go down. This is it, Sammy. They'll move in now, and Laveda'll get your d.i.c.k just like she said. Except they don't move in. Just this one guy comes out from beside the garage, decked out with a rifle and those infrared goggles. I play dead, and he's dumb enough to come close and it's bye-bye dummy. I grab the rifle out of his hands and ram it through his teeth and blast off the back of his head.

Then I go over to the garage and hotwire one of Farmer Joe's cars, and get the f.u.c.k out of there.

Lacey threw open the bathroom door. ”A car's coming!”

”Cops?” Dukane asked.

”I don't think so.”

She ran ahead of them, pressing her s.h.i.+rt to her damp b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

After cleaning the breakfast dishes, she had given in to her need to clean herself. She filled the sink with warm water, then checked the windows to be certain the snipers remained in their normal positions. Returning to the kitchen, she used liquid detergent to wash her hair. Bent over the sink to rinse, she worried about leaving the house unguarded, imagined the front door bursting open, men with guns rus.h.i.+ng in. As soon as the soap was out of her hair, she grabbed a hand towel and again checked the windows.

Everything looked all right.

But she didn't like the kitchen, felt blind at its sink, and vulnerable. So she filled two pans with water and carried them into the living room. Facing the front window, she took off her clothes. She sponged herself with warm soapy water, and wiped the slickness away with cool water from the other pan. It felt very good. Maybe later, once the men were done in the bathroom, she would ask them to move Hoffman out and she could take a real bath. When was the last time? Yesterday? Just before going out to dinner with Scott. Only yesterday. It seemed like weeks ago.

She squeezed the sponge against the nape of her neck and felt the cool water stream down her back. It slid over her b.u.t.tocks and between them, and trickled down the backs of her legs. If Scott were here, he could wash her back...

She imagined him coming into the room, and smiling with delight when he saw her. She would turn to face him. He would kiss her mouth, her neck, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. His tongue would prod her nipples.

Rather lick me?

The memory of Hoffman's words smashed her fantasy. She tossed the sponge into the water and picked up a dish towel. She patted her legs dry. She rubbed between them. She looked around at the cut on her b.u.t.tock. It was slightly red at the edges, but scabbed over. It hadn't been much more than a scratch, after all. But it itched more than the others that threaded her body. She resisted an urge to rake it with her fingernails, but rubbed it gently with the towel.

As she started to dry her arms, the sound of a car engine froze her. She glanced out the window. A black Rolls Royce sped up the road toward the house.

Whipping the towel around her waist, she scooped up her s.h.i.+rt and raced for the bathroom.

Now Scott and Dukane were rus.h.i.+ng past her, pistols ready. Scott checked the side window. Dukane kicked over a water pan as he dashed to the front. He crouched at the window.

Scott ran to the hall.

Lacey pulled her s.h.i.+rt on, grabbed her revolver off the rocking chair, and knelt beside Dukane. The car had stopped in front of the door-no more than ten yards away. Through its tinted windows, she saw moving, indistinct shapes.

A door flew open. A naked woman was thrust from the car. She fell facedown, and the door slammed shut.

Her back and rump were striped with raw, bleeding wounds. She pushed herself up. On her knees, she looked at the window. Lacey moaned, cold with sickness as she recognized the swollen, b.l.o.o.d.y face. Jan. The flesh of her chest and belly was tattered. Blood spilled from open wounds where her nipples should have been, flowed from her v.a.g.i.n.a, sheathing her thighs, forming a puddle on the ground between her knees.

The rear window slid down three inches. Lacey saw the crown of a bald head inside the car.

”We want Hoffman,” a man's voice called through the opening. ”Give us Hoffman, and we'll let the rest of you go. If you're...”

Dukane fired. With the first shot, the pale scalp erupted and dropped from sight. The second shot smashed into the window, halfway down, blasting out a cone of gla.s.s but not breaking through.

The car sprang forward.

Until that instant, Lacey didn't see the cord-the white electrical cord around Jan's left ankle and running up to the crack at the bottom of the car door. It snapped taut. Tugged Jan's leg from under her. Dragged her, spinning and bouncing, alongside the car.

Lacey's own scream drowned out the screams from Jan. Covering her ears, she lowered her head and shut her eyes tight.

Finally, she raised her head. The car had turned around and was now speeding back. Its body hid Jan from her view until it turned right and headed up the entry drive. Then she glimpsed the tumbling carca.s.s.

Throwing herself away from the window, she grabbed the nearer pan and vomited into it. As convulsions wracked her, she realized vaguely that her towel had fallen away. It didn't matter. Her mind reeled at what she'd seen. Would they do the same to Nancy? To her? Lacey's stomach was empty, now, but she strained with dry heaves. Her mouth dripped hot stomach fluids. Her eyes dripped tears.

”You stay with Lacey,” Scott told Dukane. ”I'd better go in and get the rest of Hoffman's story.”

Dukane helped Lacey to the couch. Lying on it, she felt the soft fabric against her b.u.t.tocks. She pulled a pillow down to cover her bare groin.

”What about Nancy?” she asked.

”There's nothing we can do.”

Dukane handed the pan ties and shorts to Lacey. ”We could give them Hoffman,” she said.

He turned away, and sat on an edge of the coffee table. As Lacey put on her clothes, he said. ”They won't let us go.”

”Why not?”