Richard Laymon - The Lake

Plenty of time…

He spoke softly. “Take it easy, sweetheart. You should know better than to fight with Uncle Mace.”

Deana lay quiet. Wondering what in hell he planned to do next. Straining hard to hear his movements. Trying to guess what was happening.

A blanket dropped over her head. She struggled, feeling the twine bite into her arms, sweat break out and stream down her body. She gagged against the coarse, prickly cloth as he bound it around her.

More twine. Then he was hoisting her onto his shoulder.

Bumping along, she felt his biceps, flexed and hard, beneath her, the jolts and sickening thuds to her stomach and breasts… Heard the click of his cowboy boots on the tiled hallway… Felt a draft of air on her legs and feet. Her mules had gotten lost in the struggle.

They were outside now, the cool night air flowing fresh around them.

She found herself swooping as he swung her down, setting her upright on the gravel.

OUCH!! Shit!!!

Jagged stones jabbed and bit the soles of her feet…

She heard the click of the trunk opening. Felt herself lifted, tossed into it. Rammed inside it. He was tucking in the blanket. The sharp edges of a toolbox or something jabbed her chest.

She gave a sharp gasp of pain.

The lid slammed down, cutting off whatever air there’d been. She found herself inhaling coarse, prickly fibers. They caught in her throat. She began coughing.

Christ, I’m gonna choke to death…

Suddenly, she was panicking, spluttering.

She swallowed hard.

Again. And again.

Soon, her throat muscles were under control…

Thank God!

But it’s so hot…

“I’m gonna suffocate in here. I’m gonna DIE. Nobody’ll find me till it’s too late…”

She felt vibrating throbs as the engine turned over. Heard it slip into gear, move up the driveway. Mace made a left and she slid a little, her foot tensing against metal… Jesus, she thought, I’m suffocating…

Panic welled up again.

Don’t scream…

I do, and I could start choking all over again.

Her hands strained against the twine.

No way would it give… Desperate, gulping sobs rose in her throat.

She began to gag, choke…

Streams of sweat drenched her body.

Lie still. Save what air there is… He can’t drive all night. He has to stop. Please God make it soon!

They were traveling over rough ground.

Bumping over ruts and rocks, her body shaking, jolting up and down.

Nauseous waves swept up from her stomach…

The scarf bit into her face.

Sweat, slick and hot, oozed from every pore.

My God. WHERE ARE WE?

Don’t tell me. Mt. Tam. I know it—sense it. Goddamn fuckin’ place. I HATE it. I get outa here, I’ll NEVER, EVER come back to this freakin’ place again…

More bumping. More ruts.

The car pulled to a halt.

Her heart lurched.

What now? Is this where I get it? Right where Allan got his?

The trunk lid swung up.

Thank God.

Cool air streamed in.

He was pushing her, then rolling her forward. Feeling around for something. A weapon?

Christ! He’s gonna kill me!

He picked her up.

Hoisted her onto his shoulder.

She was bouncing and flopping around again, like a sack of laundry.

He stopped.

He was fiddling with a door lock, stepping over a stoop, his boots stamping across a wooden floor. Then she went flying through the air, landing on a springy mattress. She heard, felt, the harsh metallic squeak of bedsprings…

He was loosening her ties now. Peeling off the blanket.

Thank God thank God .

Now I can breathe.

Get this thing off so I can see, maybe I can talk him out of killing me.

The scarf stayed put.

So did the twine around her wrists.

Oh, the goddamn heat!

Her skin felt slick. Slimy.

Uggh…

If only I could see!

In her mind, though, she could see the headlines:

GIRL, CAPTURED BY MANIAC UNCLE!

Lost for weeks out in the wilderness, the eighteen-year-old’s emaciated body was found by hikers today. Looked like she’d starved to death. Slowly.

Or maybe hacked to death, quickly.

What’s it to be, folks?

“Gonna leave ya now, sugar. Uncle Mace has gotta ride. Places to go. Things to do.”

She felt his lips on her forehead.

And his kiss.

Light, soft.

She caught his sour breath.

“Back soon, honey,” he whispered.

She heard the click, click of boots as he walked away, a door snap to, a key turn in the lock.

The car engine revved, then raced. It moved away. She listened till the sound faded.

She was alone.

Hey, come back! Don’t leave me like this!

Save your breath, Deana.

Maybe he won’t be too long…

She waited.

And waited.

S’pose he never comes back. S’pose he just leaves me here to rot…

It was almost light when Mace returned.

“Deana! Deana! Leigh! Open up!”

Warren thumped the door so hard, he thought he’d bust his knuckles.

“Christ, where are you, Deana?”

It’s like Sheena said… They’ve gone…

What had Deana meant by “Mom’s boyfriend’s on the run… and he’s gone apeshit?” And why did she emphasize “he knows about you?”

Sounded like anything could’ve happened…

Probably had.

They could both be dead.

“Oh my God. Not that…”

Sheena had arrived home early. A couple of minutes later and he’d have hit the road, driving over to Deana’s.

“Warren, maybe I won’t be goin’ back to Pacey’s no more,” Sheena said quietly. “He kinda objects when I leave him in the lurch.”

She seemed preoccupied. He knew that look.

Only too well.

His mouth went dry.

“Sheena! For chrissake, tell me what’s up? What was so important you left the club early?”

She said she was scared. Had had one of her feelings…

He saw beads of sweat on her upper lip. He’d never seen her this tense before.

“You’re not gonna like it, Warren, but this gal o’ yours, she’s in deep trouble. I feel she’s in a place that’s small—and dark. Yeah. It’s real dark in there, and she…”

She hesitated, knowing what this was doing to Warren.

His face went white. “For God’s sake , Sheena, she what? ”

“Call the cops, Warren. Let them deal with it. It’s none a’ your business. Don’t want you getting yourself killed on account of some gal you only just met!”

But Warren was out the door. She heard the Porsche burst into life.

“Deana, if you’re in there, open up. PLEASE!”

Twin headbeams swooped down the driveway. Warren squinted, bringing up a hand to shield his eyes.

Leigh’s car screeched to a halt. The near-side door swung open and she jumped out.

“Warren!”

“Leigh! You’re safe…”

“Yeah. But what about Deana?”

“What d’ya mean, Leigh?” His heart lurched, and sank like a stone.

He was too late. He’d known it all along.

He stood aside while Leigh prodded the key into the lock. The door fell open. They rushed inside.

The hallway was dark.

They ran to the living room. Trembling light from the TV threw uneasy shadows into the darkness. A talk-show host laughed, holding a mike close to a grinning member of the audience…

“Deana! Deana, darling! You there?”

Leigh darted into each room, calling, her heart sinking, her legs all shaky.