David Morrell - Creepers

"Guess I'll have to read it," Balenger said.

"Like I believe that," Vinnie said. "The story's powerful, but the writing's terrible. Dreiser's idea of polished prose was to call a bar 'a truly swell saloon.' "

Below them, JD laughed.

Slowed by Conklin, they reached the fifth level and trudged higher. Balenger worried about the professor's labored breathing. He debated whether to lunge up the stairs and try to grab the pistol from Tod. But Tod was too far above him. The stairs were too confining. Tod would start shooting, or maybe Mack and JD would use their knives on the rest of the group, who couldn't run anywhere. It would be a massacre. No, he decided, this wasn't the time.

"This Sister Carrie reminds me of the chick in that movie Sweets here mentioned." Mack referred to Cora, Balenger knew. His rage grew. "The one 'Moon River' is in. What's it called, Sweets?"

"Stop touching me."

"What's the movie called?"

"Breakfast at Tiffany's."

"Yeah. Hell, before I saw it on TV one night, I thought it was a restaurant movie like My Dinner with Fucking Andre. But no, it's about this screwed-up chick. What's her name, Sweets?"

"Holly Golightly."

"Even her name's screwed up. Holly the Cock Tease. That should have been her name. She made guys take her to fancy restaurants. Naturally they expected to get in her pants. But after she ate a fabulous dinner, she asked them for money so she could go to the bathroom. Never been to a bathroom where I had to pay to get in, but I guess rich people put up with that stuff. Then she snuck out of the restaurant, and they never got what they paid for. She didn't sleep with them, but as far as I'm concerned, she was still a whore."

They reached the sixth level.

"Where's six-ten?" Tod asked.

Their headlamps showed doors with tarnished numbers.

"Six twenty-two's on the right." JD aimed his light toward the tree growing into the floor.

"Then six-ten's the other way." Tod motioned with his pistol for the group to proceed toward the darkness on the left.

"And that stupid ending," Mack said. "The hero's supposed to be a smart writer. He knows the twat gets paid to take messages to a gangster in prison. He knows she's gonna marry a South American millionaire to get her hands on the money. But the dumb hero still falls in love with her. In the end, they're in this alley in the rain, looking for a cat she threw away, and they find the cat, and they're kissing, and the music gets all weepy, and I'm thinking, You stupid fuck, run! Get away from that whore as fast as you can! She'll break your heart and dump you the first time a guy with cash comes along!"

"Apart from that, how did you like the movie?" JD laughed.

"Damn it," Vinnie suddenly shouted at Balenger, "I'd have gone along with you!" He was so furious, he couldn't restrain himself. "All the professor needed to do was ask me, and I've have gone along! You think I don't need the money? I make a shit salary in a school where the students beat teachers for giving them homework. I don't have rich parents like Rick has. Hell, my father's dying from emphysema. He doesn't have health insurance. All I do is pay for his damned medical bills! If you'd asked me, I'd have gone!"

"Now there's a guy who knows cash is king," Mack said. "If you've got dough, you not only pay your old man's doctor bills. You get Holly the Cock Tease."

"I'm sure I care," Tod said. "Here's six-ten."

A sign indicated DO NOT DISTURB.

Tod twisted the doorknob and pushed. "Locked."

"I'm not surprised." Balenger worked to keep the conversation alive.

"Tell me about it."

"Cora and Rick couldn't find a key for it or for a handful of other rooms. The missing keys must belong to the few doors that are locked."

"Well, in case you wonder why you and your friends are still alive, one reason is you're going to do the heavy lifting while we take it easy."

"But that's not the only reason," Mack said, looking at Cora.

"Plus, the old man's gonna help us get into the vault," JD said. "Put him down on the floor."

Balenger and Vinnie obeyed, making the professor as comfortable as possible. Balenger felt relieved to be able to stand on his own. He wished his hands were free to massage his arms.

"Now get that door open." Tod switched on a flashlight.

"How?"

Tod aimed the pistol. His flashlight made Balenger squint. "I really hate it when you disagree with me."

"Rick. Vinnie. Give me a hand."

Rick's nose, caked with dried blood, was twice its normal size. He and Vinnie joined Balenger in front of the door.

Although his wrists were taped together, Vinnie managed to twist the knob and test the door. No result. "I'll keep the knob turned while you try to force the door open."

Mack laughed. "Sounds even. They work while you stand there."

Balenger and Rick pounded their shoulders against the door. The wall shook. They stepped back and charged, crashing. The door didn't budge.

"Feels like it has a metal core." Balenger's shoulder pulsed.

"I don't care if it's kryptonite. Get it open."

"My turn to keep the knob turned," Rick said, shoving Vinnie out of the way.

Vinnie joined Balenger. They stepped back and charged, hitting the door with their full weight.

"We could ram it all day," Balenger said. "It isn't going to budge."

"Well, you'd better think of how to open it," Tod said, "because I'm getting impatient, and when I'm impatient-"

"The crowbar."

"Ah. The crowbar."

"It's the only way. Or maybe the hammer."

"The hammer," Mack said. "Maybe you'd like some knives to cut through the wall. Or the gun to shoot the lock."

"I don't think that would do any good."

"Glad to hear that," JD said. "For a second there, it sounded like you wanted us to give you weapons."

"Just a crowbar if you want to get this door open."

"Oh, we want to get the door open. Definitely. Who's got the crowbar?"

"Me," Mack said. His shaved head cast a reflection from Balenger's headlamp.

"Get it out."

"You bet."

Mack pulled the crowbar from his knapsack. "Now you guys wouldn't be thinking of trying to use this against us, would you?"

"We just want to do what you say."

" 'Cause if you do try to use this crowbar against us, you know what'll happen, don't you?"

"Yes."

"No, I don't think you do," JD said. "I think I should demonstrate."

JD approached the group. Suddenly, he used one hand to grab Rick behind the neck and shoved his other hand under Rick's belt at his spine.

"Hey, what are you-"

But JD was already running, pushing Rick toward the balustrade.

"No!" Balenger shouted.

This time, when JD reached the edge, he didn't shove Rick the other way to safety. Instead, he increased speed, abruptly stopped, and hurtled Rick over the balustrade.

"Noooooo!"

Plummeting, Rick disappeared into the darkness. His wail faded.

Silence.

A muted crash echoed from far below. The echo died.

Balenger's heart seemed to stop. He felt suspended in the space between pulses. He couldn't move.

The stillness was broken by JD, who peered down toward the lobby six levels below. "What do you know? I can see a little pinpoint of light glowing down there. His headlamp survived the crash."

"What's the old joke?" Tod said. "The fall isn't what kills you. It's landing."

"Well, Sweets, I guess it'll be me making music with you now," Mack said.

Cora slid to the floor. Her lips moved in a murmur. "No."

Balenger could barely hear her. In the beam from his headlamp, he noted how frantic her eyes were.

"No," she whispered.

Her eyes bulged. The tendons in her neck stood out like ropes. Her shriek filled the sixth level, stronger than the wind that whistled through the gaps in the skylight a level above.