Richard Laymon - Tread Softly

She crawled backward and sat down on her sleeping bag. She pulled off her sweatshirt and used it as a towel to dry her hair. Then she lay down. Scott covered her. "Come in with me?" she asked. Her voice was quiet, but pitched high, like that of a child about to cry.

Scott crawled in beside her. He closed the zipper. Rolling against her, he embraced her gently.

"Wh?? happened?" she asked in the same high voice.

Scott caressed her back. Her skin was damp and cool

near the shoulders, smooth and dry and warm lower down where the rain hadn't found her. "You don't remember?" he asked.

"I remember waiting for you. I didn't know if you would come. Who did this to me, Scott?"

"I don't know. A stranger."

She hugged him tightly. She burrowed her face against the side of his neck.

"You don't remember any of it?"

"No," she murmured. "I know what he did, though. I. " She started weeping. Her tears moistened Scott's neck. She shook with small sobs. "I can. feel what he did."

"I'm sorry," Scott whispered through the tightness in his throat. Tears burned in his own eyes. "I'm so sorry, Karen."

"Are they. looking for him? Outside?"

"No. I don't know what they're doing. He didn't get away."

Karen stiffened. "Where is he?"

"He's dead."

She pressed herself against Scott.

"He attacked Julie, too."

"Oh, no. Oh, no."

"She's okay. She came in when the rain started, and found him with you. She screamed. I came running, and so did Nick. Nick got him with a hatchet."

"Dear God," she murmured.

"Yeah. I feel bad about that. Nick's just a kid. I feel bad that he killed the guy. It should've been me. I should've done it. Nick beat me to it, that's all."

"Will he be in trouble?"

"Some, I guess. There'll be an inquest, I suppose. Nobody's gonna be arrested, though, not with something like this."

"I guess it's self-defense."

"Something like that. I just hate it that Nick's gonna have to live with killing a man."

For a long time, they lay motionless, holding each other tightly and saying nothing. Scott listened to the patter of raindrops on the tent, to the quiet sounds of her breathing. He felt her warm breath on his skin. Sometimes, when she blinked, her eyelashes tickled his neck. He wished she would sleep and forget, at least for a time, what had happened to her. But her heart was pounding fast. He could feel it against his chest.

Then she whispered, "He didn't come in me. I mean, that would've been worse."

"Yeah."

"I feel so filthy. It's like I can still feel where he. " Her voice died. Later, she said, "Will you still want me?"

"Of course. I love you."

"But. will it make a difference?"

"I guess it already has. Knowing I could've lost you tonight. He had a knife. I thought I might find you… I don't know what I would've done."

"Will you make love to me?"

He fondled her hair. He didn't answer.

"Please. Please, I need you. I can still feel him. I want it to be you I feel."

"I might hurt you."

"I don't care. You want me, don't you?"

"Of course I do."

Pushing a hand inside her sweatpants, he stroked the warm smooth skin of her rump. He slid his hand up to the curve of her hip, down to her sleek thigh. She stiffened when he touched her pubic hair. "Don't stop," she said. He eased his hand lower, gently cupping her mound, fingers curling in, caressing. She raised a leg slightly, opening herself to him.

She pulled the waistband of Scott's shorts away from his body and down, freeing his erect penis. He moaned as her fingers gripped him.

Then they were both naked, Scott braced above her on elbows and knees, touching her only with his lips while her hands roamed down his back, stroked his buttocks.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"I don't want to hurt you."

A hand went away from his rump. Fingers took his penis and guided him lower until he pushed into soft folds. He slid slowly into Karen, deep into her hugging sheath. She sighed. She wrapped her arms around his back, and pulled him tightly against her.

After searching the area around the campsite, they followed Flash to the fireplace. He sat on a stump, rested the bowie knife across his lap, and put his flashlight into a pocket of his slicker. "You kids might as well turn in," he said. "I'll stand watch."

"Do you think he'll be back?" Nick asked.

"Who the hell knows? I thought he was dead. Maybe he wasn't, but I know for damn sure he was too far gone to get up and run off. Might've dragged himself a few yards, maybe even as far as the lake. Or maybe he was dead, and somebody carted him off when we weren't looking."

Benny mumbled something.

"What?"

"I said, maybe he's a zombie."

"Give us a break," Julie told him.

"Like the guy in your story who came out of the lake to get his arm."

"That was just a story," Flash said. "It didn't happen."

"What about the woman?" Julie asked.

"What woman?"

"Yeah!" Nick said. "That's right." He looked at Flash. "Remember I told you this morning about a crazy woman who yelled at those girls? They ran into her right here, yesterday."

"The girls said she had a knife like that." Julie pointed at the weapon on Flash's lap.

Nick frowned. "They didn't say anything about a guy."

"He could've been hiding when they were here."

"I've got it," Benny blurted. "The guy and the woman are the same person! Like that guy in Psycho. He dresses up-"

"Then who took the body?" Julie asked.

"The woman took it," Nick said. He sounded very sure of himself. "She was a friend of his, maybe his wife. She saw what happened to him. Then she waited for her chance, and snuck over and got him."

"She would have to be an awfully strong woman," Flash said, "to walk off with that guy's body."

"She didn't. She dragged it over to the lake, and towed it away in the water."

"I guess that's possible," Flash admitted.

Julie's face suddenly contorted.

"What's wrong?" Nick asked.

"I just thought of something." Her wide eyes looked from Nick to Flash. "Those girls — they just saw a woman. And we just saw a man."

"So?" Flash said.

"What I mean," Julie continued, "is how do we know there aren't more people here? Maybe another man. Maybe a whole bunch."

Flash stared at her. "Damn, I wish you hadn't said that."

"It's possible," Nick said.

Benny started looking around, searching the darkness through his dripping glasses.

"That's all the more reason we'd better keep watch. Even if it's just a woman, we don't know but that she'll try to get back at us. The rest of you go on and hit the sack."

"I'll stay up with you," Nick said.

Flash considered insisting that the boy turn in, but he liked the idea of having company.

"I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway, and if something does happen" — Nick shrugged — "it'd be better if there's two of us."

"I guess you're right. Okay."

The hatchet swinging at his side, Nick walked Julie and Benny to their tent. Benny crawled inside. Julie faced Nick, put her arms around him, and kissed him. The kiss was not brief. Flash felt he shouldn't be staring, so he went over to the poncho he'd used to cover the body. Cools of water had formed on its rumpled plastic. He picked it up and flapped it, shaking off as much water as he could. When he turned around, Julie was gone, and Nick was walking toward him. "This'll help keep us dry. We'll sit back to back so we've got a three-hundred-sixty-degree view."

They moved two stumps together, sat down, and draped the poncho over their heads. The rain made loud, hollow sounds as it struck the plastic. Flash stared through the downpour, moving his gaze slowly over the black lake, the dim pale rocks along the shoreline, the place where the body had fallen, the rocks and trees beyond the border of the clearing, Karen's tent, the pines close behind it, the gap between it and the next tent. Awfully dark behind the tents. A lot of trees. A small rocky rise farther back. Plenty of cover for someone sneaking in. Someone with a knife.