Richard Laymon - Blood Games

Where are we going? Finley asked. To grandmothers house?

Helen, behind the steering wheel of the rented Wagoneer, grinned over her shoulder and sang, Over the river and through the woods

Hoping well run into the Big Bad Wolf? Abilene said.

Finleyd like that, Cora said from the front seat.

Gimme a break. Ive sworn off guys.

Since when? Abilene asked.

Since last summer and surfin Sam, or whatever his name was.

You dont even remember his name? Helen asked.

He was just another hunk to the Fin-man, Abilene said.

Finley jammed an elbow into her side. Rick. His name was Rick. But Ive reformed. I promise to be a good girl.

Ill believe that when I see it, Cora said.

Where were going, Helen explained, I dont imagine well be running into any fellas.

I sure hope this isnt a camping trip, Vivian said.

Whatve you got against fresh air? Cora asked.

Fresh airs fine. But I can get it without flying three thousand miles.

You sure dont get it living in L.A.

Vivs just afraid shell get her clothes dirty, Abilene said.

Vivian leaned forward to see past Finley, who was sitting between them in the back seat, and told Abilene, If I wanted to rough it in the great outdoors, I wouldve joined the Girl Scouts. Wrinkling her nose, she settled back and muttered, This sure has all the earmarks of a camping trip.

You just never know, Helen said, sounding pleased with herself.

It shouldve tipped you off, Abilene said, when she told us to bring sleeping bags and grubbies.

That could mean anything.

It meant we werent going to a Marriott.

In spite of that, Abilene doubted that they were being taken on a camping trip. A week in the wilds mightve been Coras idea of fun, but this trip was Helens choice and Helen was neither athletic nor a fan of Mother Nature. She was more inclined toward sedentary, dark pursuits: reading scary novels and true crime books; watching movies that usually featured mad killers using knives, axes and chainsaws to slaughter teenagers. If her choice of adventures involved camping, it was likely to be done in a graveyard. I know where were going, she said. To the Pet Semetary.

Helen laughed. Close, but no prize.

Close?' Vivian muttered. Oh, terrific.

Wherever Im taking you, well be coming up on it pretty soon.

How soon? Finley asked.

According to the odometer, it should be about three more miles.

Pull over and let me out, okay? Ill get our arrival for posterity.

Oh, great, Abilene said. The epic. Thank God we didnt have to suffer through that last night.

Gimme a break. You love it.

I hate some of it.

Id like to see it again, Helen said. Maybe the night before we fly out.

My friend. Finley leaned forward and patted her on the shoulder. Now, let me out.

Helen stopped the car without pulling over. There was no need to leave the road, since it had been devoid of traffic for the entire half hour theyd been on it. While Vivian opened her door and climbed out, Finley twisted around and reached over the seat back. She grabbed her video camcorder, scooted across the seat and got out. Vivian climbed in.

Finley went to the front of the car, stepped from its bumper onto the hood, and walked toward the windshield. The thin metal sank under each footstep and popped up when her weight was gone, making quiet bongey sounds.

Christ, Cora muttered.

Boys will be boys, Helen said.

Abilene realized that Finley, today more than usual, looked a lot more like a kid than like a twenty-five-year-old woman. She was small and slender. Her brown hair was cut very short. Her outfit masked what she had of a figure and wouldve been just the thing for a young fellow embarking on a safari; the baggy tan shirt hung loose nearly to the cuffs of her baggy tan shorts, and sported not only shoulder epaulettes but a multitude of deep pockets, flaps and brass buttons.

Of course, most boys probably wouldnt be caught dead wearing hot pink knee socks.

The knee socks and white Reeboks were all that Abilene could see of Finley now that the girl was perched on the roof of the car, calves pressed against the windshield.

Lets roll, gang! she called from above.

You oughta really step on it, Cora whispered.

She might fall and break her neck, Helen said.

Even worse, Vivian said, she might break her camera. Then thered really be hell to pay.

Helen started the car forward. Slowly.

Turn the wipers on and give her a squirt, Abilene suggested.

Thatd be cruel, Vivian said.

Cora, looking over her shoulder, said, Abby, youre a genius.

Just mean.

Helen leaned forward slightly. The windshield wipers began to sweep back and forth. Twin streams of water shot up. The blades bumped against Finleys calves. The water soaked her socks. Her legs flew out of the way. You bastards! she cried out.

Helen shut off the blades and fountains, then called out the window, Sorry. My mistake.

Mistake my butt. Ill get all of you for this. You mess with the Fin-man, you pay.

Were trembling! Abilene called.

It was your idea, wasnt it?

Whose?

You! I know it was you, Hickok. Youll die.

Oh, quit ranting and film your epic.

Finleys legs returned to their previous positions against the windshield. Then her head appeared between her knees. Her face was upside down, her short hair blowing in the breeze. Though she said nothing, her lips twitched and writhed ferociously as if she were spitting out obscenities.

Give her another dose.

She mustve heard that. Her head went away fast.

Lets just calm down, folks, she called.

Helen left the wipers alone.

She stayed in the northbound lane, not even crossing the faded paint of the center line to avoid fissures and pits in the pavement. It made for a bumpy ride. Abilene couldnt fault her for being cautious, though. As desolate as the poor ruin of a road seemed to be, an excursion into the downhill lane would probably provoke a vehicle to materialize, speed around a blind curve and smash them. One of lifes little magic tricks. Just when you least expect it wham.

A car could just as easily come racing around a curve on our side, she thought.

She began to wish that Finley wasnt riding on the roof.

Helen stopped the car. This must be it, she said, nodding toward a narrow road that slanted up the hillside to the right.

You dont know? Vivian asked.

Do you think Ive been here before? Its just a place I read about. But this is where it ought to be, and its called The Totem Pole Lodge.

Must be it, all right, Cora said.

At each side of the entrance road stood a totem pole. The old wooden columns depicted forest creatures, demons and beasts, and both had giant birds with outspread wings near their tops. One of the poles, tilted at a sharp angle, looked ready to fall onto any car daring to trespass.

Abilene supposed that the totems had probably once been decorated with bright paint. Now, however, they looked as if theyd been made of driftwood. Or dirty gray bone.

Vandals had carved names, initials, dates, hearts, and even a few swastikas into them. Some of the vandals mustve shinnied up them to maim the higher areas. Near the top of the tilted pole, someone had left a hunting knife embedded in the blanched wood of a wing.

A metal sign, bent and rusted, was nailed at eye level to the upright pole. It read, KEEP OUT.

Why would a lodge have a sign telling people to keep out? Vivian asked.

It isnt open to the public, Helen explained, and turned onto the entry road. The leaning post didnt fall. But as the car nosed upward, Finleys legs kicked away from the windshield. Abilene heard some thumps through the ceiling, and figured she mustve tumbled backward. Seconds later, the legs returned.