Richard Laymon - The Traveling Vampire Show

“Where are the others?” Stryker asked.

I just gaped at him and struggled to breathe.

“The lovely Lee Thompson and the spunky tomboy?”

I collapsed inside.

“They’re on their way, sir,” Rusty said. “We had to park pretty far off, so they sent us on ahead to save seats for ’em.”

“I see,” Stryker said. And the way he smiled…

He knows everything, I thought. Knows it’s a lie, knows Lee isn’t coming because he’s already been to her house and knows exactly where she is.

Glaring into his eyes, I thought, What have you done to Lee?

Smiling into my eyes, he seemed to be thinking, Wouldn’t you like to know?

He turned his smile on Vivian. “We’ll make an exception to the age rule for my two friends here. See that they have excellent seats, will you?”

“Yes, sir,” Vivian said.

“And stay with them until their friends arrive.”

She nodded.

“Enjoy the show, boys.” Stryker closed the door, shutting out the tight.

“Come with me,” Vivian said.

As we walked behind her, Rusty cast a smile at me. A very smug one, as if he had single-handedly made it possible for us to see the show.

In a way, he was right.

I wanted to slug him.

“You’ve really done it now,” I muttered.

“Hey, man, we’re gonna see it.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Valeria, here we come.”

Didn’t he realize we were now prisoners? Didn’t he realize Stryker knew about Slim witnessing the death of the dog? She must’ve been seen, or why had Stryker thought to call her a spunky tomboy? And most of all, didn’t Rusty catch on that Stryker had been to Lee’s house? The bastard knew she wouldn’t be showing up tonight.

What if he killed her?

An image filled my mind of Lee down on her elbows and knees, naked, Stryker driving a spear….

No, I thought. She’s fine. She has to be fine. Maybe she’s his prisoner and we’ll be able to rescue her. Maybe she’s tied up on the bus, or…

“Oh, man,” Rusty muttered.

We followed Vivian past the other ticket-taker and into the bright lights. With the noise, it was like entering a football stadium. A very small one. I walked beside Rusty, keeping my head down, hoping nobody would notice us.

I guess you’d call it the ostrich principle; if I can’t see them, they can’t see me.

Of course, I knew it was foolish. Even as we walked past the front of the bleachers, dozens of Grandville locals were certain to be watching us. Probably pointing us out to each other. Hey, look, there’s the Thompson boy. And Rusty Simmons, too. What’re they doing here? Didn’t anyone tell ’em this is “adults only” entertainment? You can bet your bottom dollar their FOLKS don’t know about this.

Within a day or two, Mom and Dad would be hearing about it from everyone in town.

I’d be grounded. Worse, I’d be humiliated. My parents had always trusted me to follow their rules. I often didn’t follow their rules, but I rarely got caught at it.

This time, I’d be caught big time. Everything would come out. Well, maybe not everything, but enough.

I heard my dad saying, This is a real disappointment, Dwight.

My mom was saying, Of all things, to take advantage of your father’saccident that way.

Lee yelling, “DWIGHT! RUSTY! UP HERE!”

Lee’s voice was real.

My head jerked up and turned. I searched the faces of the audience. Saw so many familiar ones. Neighbors, store clerks, teachers, friends of my parents…

“DWIGHT! HEY, DWIGHT! UP HERE!”

This time, I found the source of the voice.

There stood Lee, about halfway to the top of the bleachers, waving her arms overhead.

Holy shit,” Rusty said.

I couldn’t believe it, myself. But the woman in the stands was Lee, all right. When she saw that we’d spotted her, she lowered one arm and waved with the other, beaming a smile down at us.

My eyes filled with tears, I was so glad to see her alive and free.

Rusty tapped Vivian on the shoulder. She looked back at us. “Our friends are already here,” he announced.

Vivian frowned.

“Up there.” Rusty pointed.

Vivian looked.

“The blonde in the blue shirt,” Rusty said.

Nodding, Lee smiled and patted herself on the chest as if to say, Yeah, it’s me. I’m their adult.

“That’s your friend?” Vivian asked.

“Yeah,” Rusty said.

“That’s her,” I threw in.

“I thought there was supposed to be a girl with her?”

“She’s probably wandering,” Rusty said. “She’s my sister. A real pain in the butt.”

The missing girl wasn’t his sister, she was Slim. The switch was just part of his lie, but it annoyed me. Maybe because I didn’t like to be reminded of Bitsy. Maybe because I wished Slim were with us. It was her choice to stay behind, I reminded myself. She never really wanted to see the vampire show, anyway.

But I wanted her to see it… wanted her sitting beside me.

Slim on one side, Lee on the other.

“Okay, guys,” Vivian said. “Go on ahead.”

We both thanked Vivian. She stepped around us and headed away.

Apparently, I’d been wrong about us being prisoners.

I’d been wrong about a lot.

Rusty and I trotted up the nearest section of bleacher stairs. When we were level with Lee, I stepped into the row and waded toward her, audience knees on one side, heads and backs on the other. A few people nearby said, “Hi, Dwight,” and “Hey, young man,” and so on. I smiled, nodded, and greeted some of them by name.

Sitting two rows up was Dolly Desmond, the dispatcher. She didn’t say hi, though. Just glared at me and Rusty.

We’ve had it for sure, I thought.

But it suddenly didn’t bother me. Not very much, anyway. Trouble with Mom and Dad about coming to the Vampire Show didn’t seem very significant anymore. Kid stuff. Not worth worrying about, now that I’d found out Lee was safe.

She had spread a folded blanket over about six feet of the bench to save space for us. She was sitting in the middle, her purse by her left hip. It was the brown leather purse we’d last seen in her kitchen.

The one Slim had searched.

I stepped past Lee, brushing against her knees, and sat on the blanket near her right side.

Rusty sat on her left.

She looked great. Her long, blond hair hung behind her in a ponytail. She had no makeup on, and looked about nineteen years old. She was wearing a blue chambray shirt, white shorts and white sneakers. The shirt didn’t have any sleeves. Its top couple of buttons were open, and it was so short that it didn’t quite reach the waist of her shorts. The shorts were white, small, and tight. Her white sneakers looked brand new, and she didn’t have any socks on.

She watched the way I looked her over. “I’m glad to see you, too,” she said, smiling. Then she turned her head. “And you, Rusty.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Thompson.”

“I’ve been looking for you guys. Thought you would’ve been here before me.”

“We walked in from the highway,” I explained.

“To avoid the parking tie-up?”

I nodded.

“No wonder I got here first,” she said. Turning again to Rusty, she asked, “What happened to your arm?”

“Aaah, nothing. Some crappy little poodle took a bite outa me.”

“A dog bit you?”

“Yeah. When we were coming through the parked cars.”

“The same dog as this morning?”

“Nah. Different one.”

“It’s been a bad day for dogs,” I remarked.

“I’ll say,” Lee said. “You’d better see a doctor about it, Rusty. You might need shots or something.”