Richard Laymon - The Traveling Vampire Show

Gliding up the middle of Route 3 was a ghost. A very tall ghost. Actually, a very tall person covered from head to ankles by a white bedsheet. With each stride, a bare foot swept out from under the sheet. But that’s all I could see of the person except for his general shape. On top of his head was a black bowler hat. Around his neck hung a hangman’s noose which served as a weight to hold the sheet in place.

There wasn’t much wind, but the sheet flowed and trembled around the stranger as he walked.

So far, he remained in the middle of the road.

“Maybe he’ll just walk by,” I whispered.

“Who do you think it is?” Dagny asked.

“No idea.”

“Who’s that tall?”

“Can’t think of anybody.”

“Me neither.” Dagny was silent for a moment, then said, “He doesn’t seem to be looking at us.”

True. To see us standing at the mouth of the dirt road—several feet beyond the edge of the highway—he would’ve needed to turn his head.

“Maybe he doesn’t know we’re here,” I whispered.

We both went silent, side by side, as the sheeted figure glided closer and closer.

It stayed on the center line, face forward.

But I knew its head would turn.

And then it would come for us.

My heart pounded like crazy. My legs were shaking.

Dagny took hold of my hand.

As she squeezed my hand, we looked at each other. Her teeth were bared, but I couldn’t tell whether she was giving me a smile or a grimace.

Turning our heads, we faced the stranger.

He kept walking. And then he was past us.

Dagny loosened her grip on my hand.

I took a deep breath.

The man in the sheet kept walking, kept walking.

We didn’t dare say anything. Nor did we dare look away from him for fear he might turn around and come back toward us.

Soon, he disappeared around a bend.

“What was that?” Dagny asked, her voice hushed though the sheeted man was far beyond hearing, range.

“I don’t know,” I muttered.

“Jeezel peezel,” she said.

“Yeah.”

We both kept staring down the road.

“Is he gone?” Rusty called from somewhere among the trees.

“Yeah,” I said. “You can come out now.”

Rusty tromped out of the darkness. The moonlight flashed on the blade of the knife in his right hand. “What’d you wanta just stand here for?” he asked, sounding annoyed.

Dagny shrugged. “Why run?” she asked. “He didn’t do anything.”

“I was ready for him,” Rusty said, raising his knife. “Lucky for him he kept going.”

We all turned and stared at where the sheeted man had gone.

I really expected him to reappear, gliding toward us around the curve.

But the road was empty.

“Let’s get out of here,” Dagny said.

“Janks Field?” asked Rusty. When he saw how we looked at him, he said, “Just kidding.”

So we headed north on Route 3, walking back toward town. We walked more quickly than usual. We often looked behind us.

When at last we reached the sanctuary of well-lighted streets, porches with glowing jack-o’-lanterns and houses with bright windows, we slowed to our usual pace. And we didn’t look behind us quite so often.

“You know what?” said Rusty. “We should’ve gone after him.”

“Sure,” said Dagny.

“No, really. I mean it. Now we’ll never find out who he was. And you know, he must not’ve been following us like we thought, so what was he doing? Where was he going? There isn’t another town for twenty miles in that direction.”

“Nothing but more forest,” I added.

Shaking his head, Rusty said, “Shit. We should’ve followed him or something.”

“Sure,” said Dagny.

“Wouldn’t you love to know what he was up to?”

“I don’t think I want to know,” Dagny said.

The thing about that night is that Rusty got scared and fled.

We could’ve gone with him, of course. It was our choice not to run off and hide. But after he knew that we were staying by the road, he didn’t come back.

He didn’t stick with us.

That’s the point.

Rusty couldn’t be completely trusted to watch out for Slim. In a bad situation, he might save his own hide and let Slim go down.

I never should’ve left them on the roof together.

On our way back to Route 3, Lee drove the dirt road very slowly. We both scanned the woods in hopes of seeing Slim and Rusty.

Three times, Lee stopped her truck and tooted the horn. I climbed out and called their names. Then we waited. Nobody yelled back. Nobody showed up. So she drove on.

When we reached the two-lane highway, I said, “Maybe you’d better let me out.”

She shook her head, but she didn’t drive on. Most adults would’ve just stepped on the gas and whisked me off, but not Lee. “I don’t think they’re in the woods,” she said. “By now, they’re probably long gone.” She put her hand on my leg. “Did you tell them where you’d be going?”

Blushing a little because of her hand, I said, “Not really. Just that I wanted to get a car and come back for them.” She patted my leg. “You know what? I bet they’re looking for you. They probably headed straight for town….”

“But we would’ve passed them.”

“A lot of ways we could’ve missed them. Depends on when they left. And maybe they took short cuts.”

“Maybe,” I muttered. I supposed Lee was right about missing them one way or another. It was sure possible. “But I’ve got a feeling they’re still out here,” I told her. “I feel like something went wrong, you know? I mean, Slim already had all those cuts. What if she passed out? Or what if the dog attacked them? Or maybe Rusty broke his leg jumping off the shack. Or maybe they were captured by those people who run the vampire show. I thought they were a pretty creepy bunch. No telling what they might do if they caught someone like Slim.”

Lee didn’t smirk or laugh at me. She looked concerned. “You’re right,” she said. “Any of that stuff might’ve happened. Or something else, just as bad, that you haven’t thought of.” A smile crept in. “Though I think you’ve covered the bases fairly well.”

I almost smiled, myself.

“The deal is,” she continued, “they’re probably somewhere in town by now—more than likely at your house, because they’d be needing to let you know what happened and your house would be about the best place to find you.”

Nodding, I said, “I guess that’s where they might go if they’re okay.”

“So let’s look there first.”

“Okay.”

“If we don’t find them at your place, we’ll keep looking till we do find them. That sound good to you?”

“Sounds fine.”

So then she pulled out onto Route 3, turned right, and headed for town. “We might even pass them along the way,” she said.

We didn’t.

The first thing I noticed as we approached my house was the empty driveway. It puzzled me for a moment. Mom should’ve been back from the grocery store. Apparently, she’d had other errands to run.

A lot of errands, I hoped.

With a little luck, maybe she and Dad would never have to find out about any of this.

“Look who’s here,” Lee said.

Her words gave me a moment of pure joy, but it faded when I saw Rusty leaning back against an elm tree in the front yard, shirtless, his arms crossed.

No Slim.

Rusty looked carefree, though. He smiled and waved as we pulled up to the curb. On his feet were the sneakers that he’d thrown at the dog. I took that for a good sign.

But why wasn’t Slim with him?

Feeling squirmy inside, I climbed out of the truck. Lee got out, too. As we walked toward Rusty, he asked me, “Where you been?”