Richard Laymon: Flesh

Alison felt herself sinking, going down and down, dropping into an abyss.

It’s happening, she thought. Oh dear Jesus, it’s happening. It is the thing that wants me.

I took care of Roland. I can take care of Evan.

Jesus, I’m going to die.

Maybe Evan just picked this place by accident, just took the first side road that looked interesting.

“Look at that,” he said, “a restaurant.”

Alison nodded.

“Looks like we’re the only ones here.”

“It’s closed,” Alison said. Her voice came out a whisper. “It’s where those people were killed.”

“Really?” He sounded surprised. “Well then, I guess nobody will mind if we use the parking lot.” He steered toward the front of the restaurant.

Alison lifted the bags of food off her lap. Leaning forward, she set them on the floor between her legs.

Evan stopped the car no more than a yard from the porch stairs. “So this is where it happened,” he said. “I wonder if we could get inside. It’d be kind of fascinating, wouldn’t it? Explore the scene of the crime?”

“Maybe after we eat.” She faced him. She stared into his intense, bloodshot eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I’ve been so rotten to you, Evan. All my dumb nonsense. Not wanting you to…It all seems so stupid and petty, now. I mean, I was almost killed last night. That sort of thing, it makes a person…it made me take a long look at what’s important and what isn’t. All that really matters is caring for another person. Loving another person. So why have I been putting us both through all this…this shit? Will you forgive me?” She put a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re kidding,” he said, and let out a tiny, nervous laugh. “This part of the test or something?”

“Forget all that. There’s no test. I want it to be like it was between us.”

“Really? Really?”

She eased him closer. Clear of the steering wheel, Evan turned to her. She kissed his mouth. She put her arms around his back.

The bulge beneath his shirt felt huge.

Her whimper of despair must have sounded passionate to Evan. He clasped a hand over her breast and squeezed. His other hand moved up her thigh. She opened her legs. Shuddering as he stroked her, she muttered, “I’ve missed you so much, missed the feel of you.” She caressed his shorts. His penis felt hard and big. He squirmed as she fondled it. His breathing was ragged. “I’ll get the blanket, darling. Is it in the trunk?”

He nodded.

Alison pulled the key from the ignition. “Bring the food,” she said. “We’ll eat afterward.”

“You’re something else,” he said.

“I was such an idiot. I never should’ve screwed things up between us. But that’s over.” She climbed from the car.

She stepped behind the trunk.

Through the rear window, she saw Evan lean over to pick up the food bags.

She whirled and flung the car keys with all her strength toward the weeds at the side of the lot.

Then she sprinted over the hot pavement, heading for the road out.

It was like last night, running from Roland, but this time there was no police car nearby as a goal. Alison could only hope to stay ahead of Evan, to reach Latham Road. Maybe, there, someone in a passing car would stop and help her.

She wasn’t even out of the parking lot, yet.

She pumped her arms. She flung her legs out. Her bare feet slapped the pavement. She knew she was moving fast. She could feel her hair flying behind her, her shirttails flapping.

She could hear Evan’s shoes pounding behind her.

He had chased her before, always in fun, always catching her easily. But she had never run from him like this. She felt as if she had never run so fast in her life.

Now she heard not only his shoes but his huffing breath.

He’s gaining on me!

Tucking her chin down, she pistoned her arms and tried to hurl out her legs even faster than before.

She made it past the parking lot entrance, onto the road that led to Latham.

Evan was tight on her back.

“Leave me alone!” she yelled.

He smashed her between the shoulder blades.

Alison plunged forward in a crazed dance of flinging arms and wild legs. Then she was off her feet. She slammed the pavement, hit it with palms and knees. It knocked away her arms and legs. It punched out her breath. She skidded to a stop. She couldn’t get air and her skin burned, but she started to scurry up again.

Evan kicked an arm out from under her. She landed hard on her side. Evan grabbed the numb arm and pulled.

He lifted her. He swung her over his shoulder, turned around, and headed back across the lot.

Jake sat in his car in the parking lot of Wally’s, his forehead against the steering wheel.

Don’t just sit there, he told himself. Go after her, damn it!

Sure thing. Go where?

Try Evan’s apartment.

He wouldn’t take her there. Not enough privacy for what he has in mind.

Eating her.

God!

Think!

The apartment is out. He’d take her someplace secluded, where he wouldn’t have to worry about neighbors hearing anything, where he could work on her secretly for a long time. A field, maybe, or an abandoned building.

And which abandoned building would that be, you dumb asshole?

You could’ve been there by now!

Evan’s shoulder bounced against Alison’s belly as he rushed up the restaurant’s porch stairs. He stopped in front of the door. One of his arms went away from Alison, but the other stayed clamped like a tight bar across the backs of her knees, pinning her legs against his body.

He got the door open and carried her inside. The door banged shut. He took a few steps, then bent at the waist to unload her. Alison felt herself start to fall. When she flopped off his shoulder, she reached up fast and clutched the back of his head. For a moment, she held herself up. Then Evan knocked her arm away. He kept her legs pinned until her back slammed the floor. Her head snapped down and hit the hardwood.

Evan bent over her. He tore open her shirt, spread its front, and stepped back. He stared down at her. His mouth hung open. He was panting for air.

Alison lay there, stunned from the blow and straining to breathe. She wanted to close the shirt. She couldn’t lift her arms.

“Beautiful,” he gasped. “Gotcha now, huh? Beautiful deceitful cunt.” He suddenly flinched. Squeezing his eyes shut, he grimaced. His back stiffened and he writhed as if possessed by a terrible ecstasy. He swayed and moaned. Saliva dribbled down his chin. He rubbed his penis through the bulging front of his shorts.

Alison gazed up at him.

He was out of it, caught up in his frenzy.

Now, she thought vaguely. Before he comes out of it. Move!

She found the strength to roll over. She thrust her burning hands and knees against the floor and pushed herself up.

Evan grabbed her ankles. He yanked her legs straight. Her belly slapped the floor. Still holding her ankles, he crossed them and twisted them savagely. Alison flipped onto her back.

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere. No party without you.” He took a step backward. He wiped his slick chin with the back of a wrist. Then he unbuttoned his shirt. He shrugged it from his shoulders and it fluttered to the floor.

He wore a patch of gauze and tape just to the left of his navel. A band of purple skin at the edge of the patch angled across his belly and around his side.

On his belt was a black case. Alison watched his hand move to the case. He popped open its flap. He slid out a folding knife. He pried out the blade. It locked rigid with a metallic click. Staring down at Alison with half-shut eyes, he licked a flat side of the blade. “Do I taste Celia? Yes, I believe I do. A saucy wench, but tender.” He lapped the other side of the blade.