“I’m Stacy. That’s Virgil.”
Tomas smiled when he felt Stell squeeze his leg, signaling her approval.
“I’m Dylan. This is my girlfriend, Abby.”
Virgil and Stacy did most of the talking and most of the drinking while Tomas let his thought-breath wash over them. Beside him, Stell fidgeted and sighed, letting him know her hunger. Within an hour, Tomas noticed Stacy found reasons to brush against him and Virgil openly eyed Stell’s small breasts under the t-shirt fabric.
Tomas whispered in Stacy’s ear, “I think we’re ready to go.”
He told Stacy and Virgil to pull out onto the highway and they would follow a few moments later. After the couple left the bar, he wrapped his arms around Stell and kissed her.
“You ready?” She pulled him even closer. Her hunger and desire burned through her clothes. He bent his head and bit down hard on her neck. She let loose a low growl, her fingers digging hard enough into his waist to draw blood. “Let’s go party.”
They were waiting by the side of the highway. Tomas flashed the truck’s headlights at them as he drove by and they pulled out behind them on the dark country road.
“We’ll take them out where we parked the other night when we slept outside.”
Stell looked over her shoulder at the car following them. “We don’t have a campfire or anything. No tent. Won’t they notice that?”
Tomas slid his hand between Stell’s thighs. “Do you really think they’re going to notice? Stacy’s just aching to show me her tattoos and Virgil doesn’t seem that hard to sway.”
Stell bit into his shoulder, shifting herself against his caressing hand. “Why do they want anyone else? They said they had lived together for three years. Why are they sleeping with other people? Doesn’t that bother them?”
“Well, we’re sort of helping them along in that decision.” He breathed softly in her face and her own hunger became nearly unbearable. “Besides, you love me and we both know what you’re going to do tonight.”
“It’s totally different and you know it.” Stell plunged her hands between his legs, climbing partially onto his lap, her mouth at his throat. The truck veered off the road as he tried to concentrate.
“Save it for Virgil. We’re here.”
He climbed out of the truck, Stell’s crotch grabbing making his walk awkward. Stacy and Virgil unfolded themselves from the small Honda, Stacy holding her hands up triumphantly. “First bowl’s on us!” She held up a pipe and a small baggie.
“Excellent.” Tomas took the pipe from her and handed it to Virgil. “Let’s get busy.” As predicted, neither noticed the lack of a campsite and settled on the blankets Stell pulled from the truck bed. Tomas wasted no time getting Stacy onto her back, his hands and mouth moving over her welcoming body. If Virgil noticed his girlfriend’s infidelity, it didn’t bother him. Instead he thudded to the ground beside Stell and began to pack the bowl of the pipe.
“Judging from the look in your eyes, young lady, I’d say you’ve had enough.” He took a deep hit from the pipe and held the smoke in. With a cough and a laugh he passed the pipe to Stell. “But then who the hell am I to say what’s enough?”
Stell refused the offer and rose onto her knees before Virgil. He was large, his sandy hair and beard making him seem older than he was, and she could feel the raw strength of his body. He watched her watch him, then glanced at the passionate encounter on the neighboring blanket.
“Well now, I guess we’re swinging tonight. Come here, Blue Eyes.” His touch was gentle and his kiss was soft on her lips. Stell let his hands roam under her t-shirt and didn’t resist as he pulled it over her head. His large hands cupped her small breasts and he admired her in the faint starlight.
“Don’t they have sunshine in New Mexico?” His hands slid down her waist. “You’re like a china doll. Like a hot, stoned china doll.” Stell continued to stare down at him. “Don’t talk much, do ya. That’s okay. What’s this?” His fingers reached into the front pocket of her jeans.
“A knife, huh? You gonna kill me in my sleep? Why, this blade’s got to be . . . two inches long.” He laughed and tossed the pocketknife over his shoulder. “I guess you’re going to have to take me by force.”
He kissed her stomach, his windblown hair and scraggly beard tickling her skin. His mouth was at the fly of her jeans when she grabbed him roughly by the hair, pressing him into her. She ground her hips against him, her head lolling back on her shoulders as he began to work at her clothes in earnest. As he pulled at her jeans, she pushed him onto his back, kicking the pants away. Just beyond Virgil’s shoulder, she could see her pocketknife in the grass, beyond her reach. Beside her she could feel Tomas whipping Stacy up into a frenzy. Beneath her, Virgil smiled, watching her look around.
“Are you okay, Abby?” She tried to focus on his face. “Because we can wait if you want. It’s no big deal.” If she had been able to focus, she would have seen the gentle smile on Virgil Demillo’s face, the same smile that had made Stacy Varnier fall in love with him three short years earlier. Unfortunately, all she could see was the pulse beating under his jaw. All she could smell was the blood within him and all she could think of was her hunger.
She ran her hands over his eyes, but her heart was beating too hard to relax him. He closed his eyes and sighed as she began to kiss the side of his neck. He ran his hands over her bare back, encouraging her to settle in on top of him and, at the first bite, he pinched her playfully.
“Hey watch it! That hurts.” He was attempting to adjust her body to give him more leverage when the second and final bite came. Stell attached herself to his neck. He pulled at her hair, swearing, but she wouldn’t be moved. He jerked, stiffening, and took a panicked breath to cry out when Stell’s hand clamped down over his mouth. She was impossibly strong and even though he had six inches and a hundred pounds on her he was unable to dislodge her or get Stacy’s attention.
The blood exploded from his carotid artery and it splashed on Stell’s face, soaking the ground beneath her. The wound was jagged, a tear, and her mouth struggled to cover it. She drank and drank, the blood alive with Virgil’s adrenaline and Stell could feel an ecstasy overwhelming her. He was like a child in her hands, his enormous body helpless beneath her hunger and despite his youth and strength all too soon the life spark went out of Virgil Demillo. A choking gasp escaped her lips as pleasure rocked her body and the shock of death tossed her from the corpse beneath her.
Not six feet away, Tomas had just put Stacy down and was opening his knife when Stell rolled beside him, smeared in blood and ecstasy.
“Holy shit, Stell! Holy shit!” He climbed off Stacy and grabbed Stell by the shoulders. “What have you done?” She sat up, oblivious to the gore on her face, the blood high setting fire to the night around her. She reached for Tomas but he grabbed her hands roughly.
“Did he try to hurt you? Did he grab the knife? Where’s your knife?”
Stell swung her arm to the left. “He threw it away.” She leaned in close, the blood on her chin black in the night. “I don’t need a knife.”
Tomas collapsed back on his heels and Stell swayed under the stars.
She giggled. “Uh-oh. Somebody’s awake.”
Stacy pulled herself up onto an elbow and rubbed her eyes. Her voice was thick with sleep. “Dylan? What are you doing?” She noticed Stell kneeling naked beside her. “Abby? Are you okay? What’s on your face? Where’s Virgil?” When she noticed what was left of Virgil, her breath came in short harsh gasps and her eyes flew from the blood-soaked blanket to the two naked strangers kneeling beside her. Understanding only her own fear, she began to crawl backward, pulling the blanket to her as she went. Tomas watched her, frozen on the spot, as Stell continued to sway and giggle.
“You’d better get her.”
Those same words pounded through Tomas’s mind as he saw Stacy putting space between herself and the killing field. A thousand options whipped through his mind but all ended the same way. Faste
r than she could follow, he sprang upon her, getting her neck in an iron elbow lock. She tried to scream, her breath partially blocked, and she punched and kicked to free herself to no avail. Tomas held her in place as easily as he would hold a pile of laundry, her cries for help unheard as his mind raced for a solution. He locked eyes with Stell.
“I’m sorry, Tomas. I wanted to tell you. This is who I am.” She nodded to the struggling girl beneath his arm. “I’ll do it if you want.”
Tomas held Stacy down and stared at Stell. This is who I am. He could see the words floating around her. Blood dripped from her chin onto her slender white body, the body he had longed for, the body he would throw his whole life away for. He shook his head.
“There’s a shovel in the back of the truck. Dig a hole. A deep one.”
Stell rose on unsteady feet and walked to the truck. As she passed, she ran her fingers over his face. He caught her index finger between his teeth and held her for a moment. She smiled down at him, her eyes black in the night, and pulled her finger free.
Tomas looked down at the girl’s tear-soaked face and expected to feel a jolt of pity, a weakening of his resolve. Instead he felt only a distance, a curiosity that he should ever have found this creature attractive. He felt no anger, no vengeance, simply purpose and hunger as he slid his fingers over her eyes. She wouldn’t be calmed and Tomas was glad. He could smell her fear and it excited him. He lowered her to the ground where she lay with no fight.
“Why?”
He pushed the braids away from her neck, exposing her skin. He considered his knife but, glancing at the body across the way, decided against it. He breathed in the scent of her skin and fear and sweat as she asked once more.
“Why?”
“For Nahan.” He bit down hard.
The night exploded. On his back, the stars burst into flame, lighting up the night sky, and the rustle of the leaves amplified into the sound of thunderous applause. He could hear Stell digging several yards away, could feel the earth scream each time her shovel pierced its skin and Tomas could see the diamonds of light that burst from her skin with her exertions. He whispered her name and the sound flew into the night like a rocket.
She came and stood over him naked, dirt and gore streaking her pale skin. The riot of stars behind her made her seem to Tomas a fierce goddess of legend.
“You can’t lie there all night.”
“Yes I can.” His fingers traced circles in the blood-soaked mud around him. “Who’s gonna stop me?”
Stell straddled him and lowered her face to his, her hair falling like a curtain around them. Tomas opened his mouth, breathing in the smell of her as she leaned in until they were nose to nose and he could see his reflection in the black pools of her eyes.
“Your pupils are huge.”
Stell laughed and ran her tongue along his bloodstained mouth. “Look who’s talking. And look who’s not helping. Get up and help me do something with these bodies.”
She pulled him into a sitting position, where he surveyed the area.
“Fuck ’em. Let’s get out of here.”
Stell laughed again, wrapping herself around his neck. He had voiced her thoughts exactly but she knew they had to do otherwise. “Think, Tomas. You had a plan.”
He didn’t let her extricate herself from his arms as he tried to make sense of what she said. He could remember no plan, no big picture. His body had plans of its own and from what he could tell, they were wonderful. Stell shook him, pushing herself onto her feet, and pulling him up with her. He sighed and examined the scene.
“My mother told me burning works well.”
Tomas shook his head, focus returning, the plan falling into place.
“That should work.”
“What should work?”
“My plan, Stell. Weren’t you listening?”
“You never said anything.”
“I did. I just told you”—Tomas closed his eyes, trying to remember what he had said. His thoughts were coming so quickly it was like he was backtracking and spinning in circles trying to start from the top. He couldn’t remember if he had actually spoken but still his mind clicked ahead with plans for their getaway. Stell broke his reverie with a kiss.
“You don’t have to tell me the whole plan. Just tell me what to do.”
He took the shovel from her and told her to get both bodies on one blanket. “Don’t drag them. We’ll lift them and carry them here.”
The hole dug as deeply as they could manage, they each grabbed a corner of the blanket and lifted the two Canadians. Even with their increased strength from the kill, the burden was cumbersome. Stell giggled and nearly dropped her end when Tomas huffed. “Shit, Stell. You’ve got to start picking smaller guys.” They finally dropped the bodies into the hole. Tomas stared down at them.
“Let’s make sure they don’t have cell phones on them. Or those key fobs. We don’t need some twenty-first-century “Tell-Tale Heart” scene.” Stell didn’t understand the reference but jumped into the hole. From Virgil’s blood-soaked jeans, she pulled a phone and tossed it to Tomas. There was nothing else in either of their pockets, so she climbed back to the surface, kicking the blankets over the dead as she came out.
“I’ll fill in the hole. You go back over there and build a small campfire where the majority of the blood is.”
“Why didn’t we just burn them?”
He shook his head. “It would have to be too big a fire to really burn them up. We’ll just burn the ground to hide the blood. Try to kick the worst of it into the fire.” He threw a shovelful of dirt into the hole then stopped. “Hang on a minute. You might as well burn the other blanket and our clothes. There’s blood on them too. There’s lighter fluid in the truck.”
Stell watched him gather up the clothes, smiling at his naked skin glowing in the exaggerated starlight. “You sure have a lot of things in your truck.”
“Grandpa Charles loaded it up. I guess maybe he knew what was coming.” He tossed his sticky clothes to Stell and resumed his chore.
The dawn was still hours away when they finished cleaning the scene. The campfire had burned down, the charred ends of logs and blackened ash disguising the stains in the soil. Tomas scattered the dirt left over from the impromptu grave and pulled vines and branches over the bare earth. Stell collected the shovel and lighter fluid, put them back into the truck’s toolbox and joined Tomas as he overviewed the finished product.
“This will have to do. As long as nobody has a reason to look for them here.”
“What about their car?”
“That’s next. But first we’ve got to get cleaned up. We look like grave robbers.”
“Do you have a shower in your truck too?”
Tomas saw her laughing look and grabbed her around the waist. “Maybe I just do, funny girl.” He bit softly into her neck. Her sweat tasted like salty wine and, mingled with the coppery taste of blood and the earthy smells of dirt and smoke, the effect was heroin. He couldn’t let her go and together they tumbled onto the freshly dug grave of Virgil Demillo and Stacy Varnier.
Dawn was closer when they finally pulled apart.
“Seriously, Stell, we have got to get moving.”
She groaned as she rose to her feet. A bottle of water and a washcloth got the worst of the gore and dirt from their faces and hands and Tomas assured her a fresh change of clothes would hide the rest until they had a chance for a proper shower. Grabbing an extra t-shirt from his bag, Tomas used it to keep his fingerprints off the inside of the Canadians’ car as he searched it.
“The keys are in the ignition. Her purse is in the back and his wallet’s in the glove compartment. Just one more thing to check.” He popped the trunk and looked inside. “This is good. It looks like all their bags are here so they probably didn’t check into any motel yet. I think we’ve gotten lucky. Can you drive the truck?” Stell nodded uncertainly. “Just follow me down the highway. Don’t speed. If I get pulled over, keep going and I’ll catch up with yo
u. If you get pulled over . . . well, don’t get pulled over.” Covering the keys and steering wheel with the t-shirt, Tomas started the Honda and pulled slowly from their campsite, Stell following close behind.
They drove south for over an hour. The sun was streaking the sky with pink when Tomas pulled the small car onto an almost invisible rutted road. He left the Honda running as he climbed out and waited for her. Stell wasn’t certain the big truck would make it, especially with her driving, and pulled off onto the shoulder.
“Drive up the highway at least ten miles, then find a turnaround and come back for me,” Tomas said and Stell nodded, her hands sore from gripping the wheel so tightly. He winked at her. “You’re doing great. I can’t wait to get you into a motel.”
When she returned from her brief trip down the highway, Tomas was standing by the side of the road waiting. He climbed into the driver’s side, much to her relief.
“I made it look like they had camped there. You know, a blanket on the ground; they had some empty beer bottles in a garbage bag in the back. We’re far enough away that even if they do find the car, there’s no reason they would look back at our campsite. And speaking of which, I want to stop by there when we go past it.”
“Why, Tomas? Isn’t that dangerous?”
He put his arm around her and pulled her close. “I want to get some dirt. That was definitely sacred ground.”
Sunglasses were an imperative by the time they made it back to the campsite. Tomas scooped two handfuls of dirt into an empty Doritos bag, promising Stell they would find some beautiful boxes crafted by North Carolina artists to store it in. Stell laughed and stuck her nose inside the bag for a sniff. If it had been up to her, the nacho cheese–scented bag would have been sufficient, but Tomas wouldn’t hear of it.
Ourselves Page 9
