Richard Laymon - Fiends

He shook his head, upset that he’d let his name slip out.

‘Let me go,' Tina said. ‘Please?’

‘Can’t do that. If I let you go, sweetheart, why, a fiend might come by and snatch you up. You don’t want that to happen.’ He reached a hand toward her. She slapped it away.

‘Don’t touch me!’ she blurted.

‘Didn’t mean nothing by it.’ He frowned at her. Tears streaked her face. She sucked in a deep breath and held it, biting her bottom lip. Her arms were crossed in front of her body, hiding her breasts. She was tilted awkwardly to keep her legs out of easy reach. ‘Say, you don’t think I’m a fiend, do you? I’m not a fiend. Heck no.’

‘Then let me go.’

‘Can’t. Wouldn’t be safe. Do you know what they do to pretty girls like you? The fiends?’

So confusing. That awful tightness, his heart thumping, his breath coming so loudly. ‘They start with your clothes. Rip them right off you.’

She jerked at the door handle.

Homer jammed his foot down on the brake pedal. The tires screamed as the door flew open and Tina dropped backward through it.

In the rearview mirror, Homer saw her tumbling along the pavement. By the time he had stopped the car to watch, she was no longer rolling. She lay motionless in the grass alongside the road. Her dress of many colors was twisted high. Leaf shadows, stirred by the evening breeze, trembled on the white skin of her buttocks.

Homer pulled her door shut. He pushed the gear shift into reverse.

His hands clenched the steering wheel and he pressed his forehead against it, shaking.

All so confusing.

Never should’ve stopped.

Never should’ve picked her up.

Never!

He looked at the rearview mirror.

The girl was on her hands and knees, slowly crawling toward the edge of the forest.

‘I’m not a fiend!’ he cried out. ‘I’m not!'

He shoved the shift forward, jammed the gas pedal to the floor, and sped away.

‘Anything?’ Willy asked from the top of the stairs.

‘Anything!’ Marty cried. ‘Anything! Just please don’t do it! God! Don’t! Whatever you want! Anything! Just please, please God, don’t hang me!’

‘Okay. Here’s what. Phone that prick boyfriend of yours and tell him to haul ass over here.’

‘What?’ She sniffed and wiped her runny nose. ‘What do you want with him?’

‘A little payback.’

‘Okay. Okay. I’ll do it. I’ll call’ - she dropped backward - ‘him.’ Dropped backward grabbing the rope with both her hands.

Willy let go of his end to keep from being tugged off the top of the stairs, and Marty sat down hard. An odd, tickling pain jolted through her.

Before Willy could bring in the slack, she jerked the noose off her head. She got to her feet and ran for the door. Her hand found the knob. She twisted and pulled. The door swung open. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Willy leaping down the stairs three at a time.

She slammed the door and sprinted across the lawn.

At the street, she turned around. The front door opened. Willy stepped halfway out, then took a backward step and shut the door.

He’s staying inside!

Afraid to come out and chase her?

She supposed he would probably sneak out the rear of the house.

Unless…

He knows I’ll have to come back, sooner or later. What if he decides to wait?

No, he’d be crazy to stay inside. He would have to figure she would call the police.

Marty started running toward Hedda’s place. She could phone the cops from there.

As she started to cross the street, Dan’s car suddenly rounded the corner and pulled to a stop. ‘Where you going?’ he asked, reaching across the front seat to open the door.

‘No place special.’

‘Can I give you a lift?’

‘Yeah. Okay.’ She climbed into his car and pulled the door shut. ‘Did you get my message?’

‘Message?’

‘Guess not. I called you about… ten minutes ago?’

‘Really? No, I didn’t get any message. I thought I’d drop by and… you’ve been crying.’

‘Yeah.’

‘What’s wrong? It’s not because of our…?’

‘Yeah. Of course it is.’

He shook his head. ‘I was just coming over to see if we couldn’t manage to straighten things out.’

‘Nice idea. I had the same thing in mind. That’s what I phoned about.’

‘You must’ve just missed me.’ He smiled at her. ‘Well, where to? Your place?’

‘That wouldn’t be a good idea. Mom and Dad are there. I want to be alone with you.’

He put his hand against the side of her face.

‘How about your place?’ she suggested.

‘My place it is.’

An hour later, Marty was stretched out face down on the bed, naked and sweaty. She felt languid and wonderful. Willy seemed like a problem from long ago and far away.

Dan, sitting on her rump, had been gently rubbing her back for the past few minutes. Now, he swept her hair sideways so it fell over her shoulder.

She was glad to have the hair away from the hot nape of her neck. She supposed Dan was about to kiss her there.

But he asked, ‘What’s this?’

‘What’s what?’

‘This mark.’

She suddenly felt sick.

‘I don’t know,’ she said.

‘Marty?’

‘It’s nothing.’

‘It looks like a rope burn.’ His hands clamped the tops of her shoulders. ‘How did it get there?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Tell me!’

‘I don’t know!’

‘It is a rope burn, isn’t it?’

Marty didn’t answer. Dan’s fingers tightened on her shoulders. ‘That hurts,’ she said.

He squeezed harder. ‘Who did it to you?’

‘Stop that!’

‘Who?’

‘Who do you think?’

‘He put a rope around your neck?’

‘It doesn’t matter. I got away.’

‘ When? Tonight?'

‘Yes, tonight. Forget about it, okay? It doesn’t matter.’

‘When tonight?’

‘Damn it…’

The hands clenching her shoulders suddenly jerked up and down, shaking her.

‘Damn it!’ she cried out.

‘Just before I showed up, wasn’t it?’

‘Let go of me.’

‘The motherfucking bastard. Where was he?’

‘I’m not telling you anything. He wants to kill you, you know.’

‘He was in your house, wasn’t he?’

‘No.’

‘That’s why you were out in the street. That’s why you wanted to come over here. Your parents weren’t in the house, he was.’

‘Go to hell,’ she said.

Dan climbed off her. ‘You stay here,’ he said.

Rolling over, she watched him scurry off the bed. He rushed about, snatching his clothes off the floor and putting them on. When he was dressed, he pulled open a drawer of a nightstand beside the bed. He took out a holstered revolver.

‘No, don’t,’ Marty said. ‘Put it away. Don’t go over there. We can call the cops and have them…’

‘I’ll handle this bum. What the fuck was he going to do, hang you?’

‘He’s probably gone by now.’

Dan took a box of ammunition out of the drawer, opened it, and grabbed a handful of cartridges. He dumped them into a front pocket of his jeans. Then he met her eyes. ‘What else did he do?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Did he rape you?’

‘He didn’t do anything. I got away. Don’t go over there, Dan. He wanted me to call you. He wants you to come over. I think he wants to kill you.’

‘Good. Hope he tries. You stay here till I get back.’ Leaning over the bed, he hooked a hand behind her neck and drew her toward him.