Richard Laymon: Flesh

“Terrible,” he said. “Last night.” He peered at her face. “You got beat up pretty good.”

“Yeah.”

“You look great, though.”

“Sure.”

“You do. A bruise hath no power to diminish the beauty of so sweet a flower.”

“Thanks.”

“Let’s at least get something to eat, okay? We can go someplace that has a drive-up window, so you won’t have to worry about meeting anyone.”

“Couldn’t we just talk here?”

“I’m famished, Al. Really. I haven’t eaten all day.” He made a grim smile. “I didn’t have any appetite. But I’m feeling a lot better, now. You being here. I feel like I’ve been brought back from the dead.”

“I guess it’s all right if we pick up something,” Alison told him.

“Great.” He started to drive.

The front door of Jake’s house wasn’t chained. He stepped inside, sensing that Alison was gone.

He called her name as he hurried through the rooms. In the bathroom, he found his bathrobe and Alison’s nightgown hanging from a hook. In the kitchen, he found a note. It was on the table, folded in half to stand upright:

Dear Jake,

I had to go out for a little while to see my old boyfriend. I know I was supposed to stay here, but he needs to see me. I’m sure it will be okay, since I’m meeting him at Wally’s. There will be plenty of other people around, so please don’t worry.

I’ll probably be back before you see this, but thought I’d leave a note anyway just in case you dropped by early and wondered what happened to me.

Please don’t worry.

I’ll be back as soon as possible. Believe me, the sooner the better.

This was just something I had to do.

Cold and numb inside, Jake lurched to the kitchen phone and dialed directory assistance. He got the number for Wally’s, called, and asked for Alison Sanders to be paged.

“She doesn’t seem to be here,” he was told after a long wait.

He hung up and raced for his car.

The note didn’t say what time she had left for Wally’s. Maybe only a few minutes ago. Maybe hours ago. If she’d walked, she might still be on the way over there. Jake tried to take her most likely route. He scanned the sidewalks for pedestrians.

Evan might have picked her up, he thought. No, the note said she was meeting him at Wally’s. So she walked. Unless she got a friend to pick her up.

That could be it. She called a girlfriend, asked the girl to bring over some spare clothes and give her a lift to the bar. Maybe the friend will stay with her.

Alison’s not at Wally’s.

So maybe she’s still on the way over.

Please.

She might’ve been there and left. By now, she might be on her way home.

Stupid, wishful thinking. Evan has that fucker up his back and he isn’t going to let Alison get away.

Maybe Evan’s not the guy she went to see.

He is. But maybe he doesn’t have the thing in him.

Then what was that blood on his apartment floor? Roland, half dead, must’ve staggered up to Evan’s door. When Evan opened up, the thing burst out of Roland’s belly and nailed him. It took control, got Evan to haul the dead or dying Roland down to the VW. Sam saw them, just thought Roland was plastered.

Why no blood on the sidewalk?

The thing’s clever. Maybe it got Evan to bandage the wounds before carrying Roland out. The fire took care of the bandages.

Evan’s got it, all right.

And Evan’s got Alison.

Evan handed Alison the bags containing their soft drinks, cheeseburgers and french fries. She held them on her lap, glad to have more than her shirttails for covering.

In spite of his frequent glances in that direction, he’d acted all right during the drive over. Alison’s jitters had subsided, though she still dreaded telling him that she wouldn’t go with him after today.

She would postpone that moment for as long as possible.

Evan pulled away from the drive-up window. Instead of turning in front of the restaurant to circle around to its parking area, he continued ahead and swung onto the road.

“Aren’t we going to eat in the lot?” Alison asked.

“That’d be kind of dreary. Let’s drive someplace nice. We can have a picnic.”

“Evan.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be a perfect gentleman.” He smiled at her. A corner of his mouth trembled. “No more touchy-feely, not unless you start it. I’m a slow learner, but I finally got the message. I’ve put our relationship in too much jeopardy already. Here you are, convinced I’m some kind of a sex fiend. Well, I’m not. You’ll see. From now on, it’s hands off. Consider me a eunuch.”

Too late for that, Alison thought.

“I came so close to losing you, last night. My boorish behavior, then…the attack on you. I had to face how much you mean to me, what it would be like if I never saw you again. I love you so much, Alison. I’ll never again do anything to make you doubt me.”

“We’ll see how it goes today,” she said.

“A test. I’ve always passed my tests with flying colors.”

Alison settled back against the seat. She believed him. The lunch would go smoothly. He would make the sacrifice today, knowing this was his last chance. Be a good boy, and there would be plenty of future opportunities to make up for it. So he thought.

He’s no mind reader. He doesn’t know that, regardless of how wonderfully he behaves, this is it.

By the time he finds out, it’ll be over.

He steered onto Latham Road.

“Where are we going?” Alison asked.

“Just out of town a little way. We’ll have a picnic, all right? Just like old times. Except no fooling around.”

“What’ll it be?” asked the bartender.

“I called earlier about Alison Sanders,” Jake said.

“Right. She wasn’t here.”

“Do you know her?”

“Not the name. Maybe if I saw her…”

Shaking his head, Jake started to turn away.

“You said Alison Sanders?”

Jake faced a slim young man who was seated on the bar stool beside him, nursing a martini. He looked rather old to be a student. “Do you know her?”

“I met her a few nights ago. Are you a friend?”

Jake showed the man his badge. “I’m also a friend. I need to find her fast. She said she was coming over here today.”

“Well, she was here. Around one thirty or a quarter till two. I was just arriving. In fact, I’d come here in hopes of seeing her.” He shrugged. “She was with someone else. I just caught a glimpse of her getting into his car.”

“Did you see who she was with?”

“I wasn’t looking at the driver.”

“Did you tear your eyes away from Alison long enough to notice the car?” Jake asked, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

“A dark blue four-door. I’m not good with cars. I do know that it wasn’t a compact. It had a rather squarish shape along the lines of a Mercedes. It wasn’t a Mercedes, of course.”

“License number?”

“I didn’t notice. Nothing suspicious was going on, why would I look at the license plate?”

“Did you see the car leave?” Jake asked.

“It was still sitting at the curb when I came in here.”

“This was about one forty-five?”

“Give or take.”

Jake checked his watch. Ten after two.

Rushing out of Wally’s, he squinted against the sudden glare of daylight and ran to the street. He looked both ways. No blue car.

He leaned sideways against a tree trunk.

Twenty fucking minutes.

If he’d just been quicker.

Groaning, he rammed his elbow hard against the trunk.

Evan slowed the car. As he started to turn, Alison glimpsed a sign on the other side of the narrow road.

The Oakwood Inn.

He’s taking me to the Oakwood.