Richard Laymon - Tread Softly

"Let's get this show on the road," Julie said.

Julie cringed as she stepped into the water. Earlier, when she'd rushed in to help Nick, she'd been so overwhelmed by the urgency of getting to him that she'd hardly noticed the cold. Now, her whole body trembled as she waded deeper.

"Dive under fast," Nick suggested.

"Easy for you to say," she called back.

Karen, just ahead of her and thigh-deep, was pulling up the bottom of her sweatshirt to keep it out of the water. She turned to face Julie. Her small pocketknife was clamped between her teeth. She took it out. "This good?" she asked. Her voice was pitched higher than usual.

"Fine."

"It'll be quicker if we both dive for 'em."

"We'd just get tangled." Julie moved past Karen. She took a sharp breath when the frigid water lapped her groin. With another step, she was covered to the waist. She sucked in her belly as if to draw it away from the painful touch. " God ," she gasped. She turned around. "I'll pass you three. Take the last one myself."

"Right," Karen said.

"Then we'll get our asses over to the fire."

"I'm for that."

"Here goes!" she called to the others.

Nick, standing at the edge of the lake, waved his hatchet overhead. Benny, beside him, shined the flashlight in her eyes. The glare hurt. She flinched away from it and muttered, "Thanks a lot."

Then she waded out farther. The icy water soaked through her bra, washed over her shoulders. She turned to the right, and began searching. The water buoyed her up so her feet hardly touched the slippery rocks. She took long, slow steps, stroking the water with her arms to propel herself forward.

Then she toed something that wasn't rock. She explored it with her foot. It was a backpack. "Got one," she said.

Karen, waiting a couple of yards away in water up to her waist, nodded and clamped the knife between her teeth. Julie took a deep breath. Then she dived. She kept her eyes open, but saw only black as she clutched the sides of the pack, planted her feet on the slick rocks, and lifted. The pack felt nearly weightless.

She surfaced, and filled her lungs with air. Hugging the pack, she took a few slow-motion strides toward Karen. The woman reached out, took it from her, turned away, and started wading for shore.

Julie swung around. She swam a few strokes. Lowering her legs, she searched with her feet. As they swept over the rocks, she glanced to the side. Karen was ashore, bending down, lowering the pack.

Her toes caught a strap. She plunged and gripped it with her right hand. It felt like leather. Must be Karen's Bergen. She pulled against it, and felt the pack start to rise as she brought her legs down toward the bottom.

Someone kicked her. The toenails raked her thigh. Ow! What's Karen doing under me?

It's not Karen!

A hand clawed her behind the shoulders, pulling her down. Another dug into her back. They held her tight against a bare, twisting body while legs hooked around her. Teeth ripped at her shoulder. Jerking with pain, she grasped long ropes of hair and tugged. The teeth held. They clamped harder. Her shoulder burned with agony. She wanted to cry out, but kept her lips clenched. The teeth released her. She tried to keep the head back, but it darted in, hair sliding through her fingers, and the teeth snapped shut on her collarbone.

She remembered Karen's warning. You don't need a knife to kill someone.

Just teeth. Rip out the jugular.

Knife.

The teeth let go.

Now for the throat.

She bent her head sideways and thrust her shoulder toward her ear. The teeth nipped her cheek, tried to get under her jaw. Then a spasm shook the woman as Julie rammed the six-inch blade into her back. Her fingernails pierced Julie's skin. She bucked and squirmed. Julie yanked the knife out and drove it in. She shoved a hand against the woman's face, pushed her away, and thrust the blade into her belly. Feet on the lake bottom, she clutched the knife with both hands and forced it upward.

Benny shined his flashlight on the water where Julie had gone under. The surface looked more turbulent there. She'd been down for a long time. Longer than it should take to lift up a pack.

Nick was watching, though. He didn't seem worried.

Karen was wading out quickly, but not as if she thought anything was wrong.

Then a head broke the surface. The beam of Benny's light reached to a face that sent a shock through him. The eyes were rolled up so that only the whites showed. The mouth was wide open, lips peeled back in a grimace. Blood spilled down the chin.

A scream filled Benny's throat. She was rising as if about to soar from the lake. Her shoulders burst from the surface. Her arms flapped wildly. Her bare breasts shook.

Then a pair of hands came up, clutching her belly. No, not exactly. But she wasn't about to fly, she was being lifted by those hands and then a head appeared below her.

It had to be Julie.

For just a moment, the woman — the witch — was above Julie's head, out of the water entirely, her naked body writhing and beating the air. Julie bent as she swung the body over her. It hit the water headfirst and threw up a frothy shower.

Nick stared, frozen with shock, as the body surged up out of the lake. The twisted face was not Julie's. The squirming figure kicked at the sky, and vanished with a huge splash.

Karen lunged forward, knife in her upraised hand.

Rushing in, Nick saw her reach down. Julie was gone. Where? Was she hurt, drowning? He was waist-deep and wading against the heavy push of the water when her head popped to the surface.

Off to Nick's side, Karen's left arm came up. Her hand was wrapped with black hair. She raised the woman's head. Water and blood spilled from the gaping mouth. As the shoulders appeared, she drew back her knife to strike. She hesitated. She lowered the knife. She looked at Nick. "Dead?"

"Looks that way."

Julie waded toward them. "She dead?"

"What happened?" Nick asked.

"Got her with your knife." As Julie approached, the water level dropped. The flashlight beam found her. She squinted and turned her face away. Nick groaned at the sight of her torn, bloody jaw and shoulder.

"God, Julie."

"I'm okay. Let's take her ashore."

"I've got her," Karen said.

"Good, 'cause I've got one of the packs."

Nick waited for them to trudge past, Karen towing the body by its hair. It was facedown in the water, floating along, its back and outstretched legs pale in the moonlight. Nick held the hatchet in his left hand, ready for use, but he saw no signs of life.

Julie was the first to reach the shore. She dropped the pack and returned. She and Karen each took an arm. They dragged the body onto dry land. Benny shined his light on it. Kneeling down, Nick looked at the wounds on its back, two raw pulpy gashes that slowly filled with blood.

"You sure got her," Benny muttered.

Julie turned the body over, and Nick recoiled at the sight. Benny gasped. Karen turned away, clutching her mouth. Julie muttered, "Jesus."

The torso was split from just above the mons almost to the rib cage. Entrails had spilled from the opening. They looked like a pile of dead snakes.

Julie backed away, shaking her head. Nick went to her. He dropped the hatchet and drew her against him. She put her arms around him. She felt wet and cold. She was shaking badly. "It's all right," Nick said.

"I did that," she muttered.

"You had to."

"Doesn't make it any better."

"I know. I've been through it. Remember?"

"Yeah." She pressed her face to the side of his neck. He felt the brush of her eyelashes. His right hand, still pinned low by the belt, caressed the chilly skin of her flank.