He remembered being with Dani. Oh. Right. The doorbell. He’d left her to answer the door. Then he must’ve gone back.
Christ, his head felt like it might explode.
How the hell many margaritas did he have? Two? And wine with dinner.
Why is Dani’s room so dark?
She must have aspirin in the bathroom. He hoped he could get there without tripping over the furniture.
He started to sit up. Something slammed against his forehead. He fell back, dizzy with pain, and grabbed his head with both hands. Cushions of some sort held his elbows in.
As the pain subsided, he poked his right elbow against the obstruction. It sank into padding and struck a hard surface. His left elbow did the same. He raised a fist. Not more than a foot above his face, his knuckles hit wood.
Feeling with both hands, he found that he was boxed in. He braced himself and shoved with all his strength against the lid. The effort sent a tide of pain into his head. He kept on pushing. His muscles quivered with the strain, but the lid didn’t give at all. Gasping for breath, he lowered his arms.
This is not good, he thought.
There was a whisper of panic in his mind. He knew he was sealed inside a coffin, the coffin Tony kept in his hearse. When he opened the front door, Tony must have bashed him, knocked him out . . .
Dani!
Oh my God, he’s going for Dani!
Suddenly, Jack felt motion. Not of the coffin itself, but of the surface on which it rested. Tony, he realised, must be driving him somewhere. Away from Dani’s house? So she was safe for now.
Unless Tony had already finished with her.
Christ, why did he have to open the door? Dani had told him not to bother. He should’ve stayed with her, protected her. Now he was powerless to help. Maybe it was already too late. He saw her sprawled on the floor of her bedroom, naked and bleeding. Dead.
‘No!’ he yelled.
I’ve got to calm down, he warned himself. There can’t be much air in here. Can’t waste it. Breathe easily.
The hearse turned, pressing his shoulder to the coffin wall.
You’ve got to believe he hasn’t hurt Dani. He’s just taking me out of the picture.
Just?
And then he’ll go for her, and I won’t be around to stop him unless I get out of this fucking coffin!
He forced his knees against the lid and shoved it while he pushed with both hands. It didn’t yield.
Maybe the side panels aren’t so strong. He rolled. There was just enough space for his shoulders. With his back pressed to one padded wall, he thrust against the other side. No good.
As he relaxed his muscles, the coffin jostled him. He pressed himself against the sides again to steady himself.
The car must have gone off the street. From the bouncing, he imagined it traveling over a rutted dirt road or a field.
Where is he taking me?
A cemetery? The thought made a cold, tight place in Jack’s stomach.
No. Cemeteries have gates, watchmen. Don’t they?
Besides, there isn’t one around here. Not that Jack knew of.
Tony wouldn’t need a cemetery. Just an isolated spot where nobody would see him dig a grave.
A grave.
Jesus Christ!
He tried again to force the sides, and then the bouncing stopped. All movements stopped, even the barely perceptible vibration from the car’s engine.
For a few moments, nothing happened.
The coffin jerked and rolled with a muffled rumbling sound. The end started down. Jack stretched out his legs to catch himself as he slid on the smooth upholstery. Realising what would happen next, he braced himself up with his elbows. The coffin suddenly dropped out from under him. His head bumped the lid. Then he was slammed down hard. The impact knocked his elbows up, sledged his back, drove his wind out. As he gasped for air, he heard a rapping on the lid.
‘Hello in there.’
Tony’s voice. It didn’t sound distant and muffled. It seemed, somehow, to creep inside the coffin with Jack.
‘Cozy?’
Jack lay motionless and said nothing.
‘Ever see Premature Burial? American International, 1962? One of Corman’s best, I think. A real chiller. Me, I can’t think of anything much worse than getting buried alive. Drowning, maybe, but that’s over a lot quicker. Bury a guy alive and he suffocates real slowly. Has lots of time to think about it. Lots of time. I bet you’re already thinking about it. Are you, Jack?’
Jack didn’t answer.
‘Are you awake in there?’ Tony knocked on the lid ‘Hey, are you awake? I don’t want you missing this.’
There was a brief silence.
‘If you ask me real nice, maybe I’ll let you out. Why don’t you beg me? Say “Please, oh Chill Master, please let me out. I’m too young to die.” No? Well, any last words for Dani? I’ll be seeing her later on. I’d be glad to give her a message.’
Jack ached to shout out his rage, to slam his fists through the coffin lid and grab Tony’s throat. But he remained silent and didn’t move.
Let Tony think he was still unconscious.
The bastard thrived on terrifying people. Let him think he failed, at least this once.
The coffin shook, and the foot of it lifted. It was being dragged.
It dropped with a sudden shock.
Something hit the wood above Jack with a soft thud. He felt a trickle on his chest and touched it, rolled it against his skin. Tiny granules. Soil.
More spilled onto him. Jack reached up to the lid. His trembling fingers found a smoothly bored hole.
An air hole.
For a while, he counted the heavy slaps of dirt on the coffin. Even after he lost count, he held his finger to the hole.
Finally there was silence, a heavy, dull silence as black as death.
27
THERE WERE no empty spaces in front of Tony’s apartment house, so he double-parked. He rushed upstairs.
In his room, he propped the shovel against a wall. He tugged off his shoes and socks, pulled off his soiled pants and climbed into the tub. He turned on the shower. The hot water smacked his skin. Gray streams rolled down his arms, his chest and belly. He let the water hit his face. It felt like fire on his wounds. Quickly, he soaped himself down and rinsed. Then he climbed from the tub.
As he dried himself, he thought about shaving. The two days growth of whiskers made him look grubby. But shaving would be too painful, so he decided against it.
He dumped a pool of cologne into his hand. He splashed it on his cheeks and neck, enjoying the musky fragrance. Then he dabbed some on his penis.
He brushed his teeth.
From his closet, he took a pair of blue slacks and his sport shirt. Not bothering with underwear, he put them on.
He put on clean socks.
He dumped loose soil from his sneakers. Wishing he had a better pair of shoes for the occasion, he slipped them on.
Then he hurried down to his hearse.
Everything was going his way.
Almost everything. Climbing in behind the wheel, he again felt a stir of disappointment about the business with Jack. He must’ve beaned the jerk too hard. It would’ve been nice to hear him blubber and beg and scream, but at least he was out of the way. He wouldn’t be popping up to ruin the night.
Not this time.
Tony grinned. It made his lips hurt. He licked them and tasted blood, and laughed.
28
THE SUDDEN ring of the doorbell sent a shock through Dani. Her head jerked back, striking a cupboard door. She shoved away from it, and got to her knees.
She was puzzled. She’d expected Tony to break in through the rear of the house, not simply step up to the front door and ring the bell like a casual visitor.
Maybe it’s Jack.
But where had he been, all this time?
The bell rang again.
If it were Jack, he would call out.
Tony, all right.
Getting to her feet, she walked around the bar. The knife hilt was slippery. She wiped it with the front of her robe, rubbed her hand dry and gripped it again.
She stopped at the front door. Leaning a shoulder against the frame to steady herself, she took a few deep breaths. They didn’t help much; her heart seemed to be knocking the air from her lungs.
‘Who is it?’ she asked.
‘It’s just me.’
The strength drained from Dani. She sank to a crouch. ‘What do you want?’
‘I thought, you know, I’d just drop by and see if you’re in.’
‘Where’s Jack?’
‘Oh, isn’t he here? His car’s outside.’
‘Please, what’d you do to him?’ Dani didn’t like the pleading sound of her voice.
‘If he’s not here, I don’t know where he could be.’
‘Tony!’
‘Maybe he went for a walk. Why don’t you let me in, and I’ll keep you company till he gets back.’
‘Stop playing with me!’ she shouted. ‘I know you’ve got him!’
There was a long silence.
‘Don’t be mad, Dani. I didn’t hurt him. I just made sure he wouldn’t be around. He kept getting in the way, coming between us. I mean, he wouldn’t leave us alone. I had to get rid of him.’
‘What did you do to him?’ she whispered.
‘Huh?’
‘Where is he?’ she asked, forcing herself to speak louder.
‘He won’t bother us. Let me in.’
‘No.’
‘Don’t be this way, Dani. I love you. I won’t even try to scare you, I promise. I don’t care about that when I’m with you. I just want to hold you in my arms.’
‘If I let you in, will you tell me where Jack is?’
‘All right.’
Dani straightened up. Holding the knife behind her back, she slipped the guard chain free. She stepped back. She reached out with her left hand, and turned the knob. She swung the door open wide.
Tony, standing on the dark stoop, gazed in at her. He looked strange, almost normal, in slacks and a short sleeved shirt.
All dressed up.
He thinks this is a date.
‘Come in,’ Dani said.
With a slight nod, he stepped forward. He entered. As he shut the door, Dani’s chest constricted. She felt trapped and suffocating. She gasped for air.
‘Don’t be afraid,’ Tony said.
‘Where’s Jack?’
‘We haven’t even kissed yet.’
‘Tell me.’
Tony shook his head, and took a step toward Dani. She swung the knife from behind her back. She shook its blade at him. ‘Tell me where Jack is,’ she demanded.
Tony sighed. ‘Why don’t you forget about him? You have me, now. Forget about Jack. He’s nothing.’
She jabbed at his belly. He lurched backwards against the door and flung out his open hands to shield himself. Dani slashed. The blade sliced his left palm.
‘Ow! Dani! For Godsake, you cut me!’
‘Tell me where Jack is.’
‘All right, all right. God!’ He stared at his cupped hand, a horrified look on his face as blood welled up and spilled over the sides. ‘God, you really cut me.’
‘I’ll do it again. Talk.’
His hand jumped, flinging the pooled blood at Dani’s face. It flew at her like a tattered red cloth. It splashed her cheeks and eyes. Blinded for a moment, she lashed out wildly with the knife. A fist clubbed her left cheek. The impact snapped her head sideways, turned her whole body, and sent her to the floor. She landed on her side. The knife was still in her hand. Hanging onto it, she pushed herself to her knees.
Tony kicked her arm out from under her. As she collapsed, the knife flew from her numb hand.
He grabbed her ankles. He lifted her legs and swung them across each other. Dani tried to clutch the carpet. No use. In an instant, she was forced onto her back. She tried to kick free, but Tony held her feet tightly, bracing each against one hip. She bucked and twisted and squirmed. Her efforts did no good. Exhausted, she gave up and tried to catch her breath.
Tony didn’t move. He stared down at Dani.
The struggle had loosened her cloth belt. Her robe had fallen open. She lifted it from the sides and started to close it over her breasts.
‘Don’t,’ Tony murmured.
She wrapped it tightly across her. Glaring up in defiance, she pressed a hand between her legs.
‘You’re not being nice.’
‘Fuck you,’ she gasped.
‘This isn’t the way it was supposed to be. You were supposed to be sweet and gentle. You weren’t supposed to fight me.’
‘You wouldn’t tell.’
‘Huh?’ He frowned as if confused.
‘I would’ve been sweet and gentle . . . but you didn’t tell.’
‘Really?’
‘Really. Tell me now. That’s all I want. Then I . . . I won’t fight you anymore.’
‘You’ll be nice?’
‘I’ll be wonderful.’ She slid her hand away, uncovering her vagina. She spread the robe away from her breasts. ‘Tell me.’
‘He’s in my coffin. Buried someplace.’
‘Oh my God,’ Dani muttered.
Tony grinned, and blood trickled from his scabbed lips.
‘Where?’
He shook his head. ‘I’ll save that for later.’
‘All right.’
‘I want you to undress me. Do it the way you undressed Jack by the pool Saturday night.’
‘You watched?’
‘Oh yes. You were so beautiful. You were far away, though. I couldn’t see as well as I wanted. But the way you slowly undressed him and touched him . . .’ Tony lowered her feet to the floor. ‘And then later, when he made love to you in the whirlpool . . .’
‘Did it excite you?’ Dani asked, standing up.
‘Oh yes. But it made me mad. It should’ve been me.’
‘Tonight, it will be you.’ Stepping close to him, Dani shrugged the robe from her shoulders. She stood motionless while his eyes wandered over her body. He licked a speck of blood from his cracked lips. Then he raised his hands. They felt like ice on her shoulders. The cut hand was slippery. His fingers trembled as he caressed her. He was breathing hard.
Slowly, Dani unfastened the buttons of his shirt. She untucked it and spread it open. His chest was white and hairless, bony as if the skin had been stretched taut over a skeleton. Reaching up, she slipped the shirt off his shoulders. He lowered his arms to let it fall away.
As she pulled at his belt buckle, his hands slid down to her breasts. She went rigid and shut her eyes.
It’s all right, she told herself. Don’t try to stop him.
The fingers curled around her breasts, squeezing and writhing like snakes.
She jerked his buckle open. It pulled from her hands as Tony crouched. Caressing her buttocks, he kissed her left breast. She looked down at him. He licked her nipple, sucked it into his mouth, opened wide as if trying to draw in her entire breast. She felt the painful pulling, the scrape of his teeth, the push of his probing tongue.
‘You’re hurting me,’ she said.
Obediently, he slipped his mouth off the breast. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. He gave her an apologetic glance, then moved his face to the other breast. It was smeared with blood from his hand. His tongue circled it, lapping the blood away. Clutching her buttocks, he rubbed it with his face. She felt his whiskers, the stiff touch of his scabs. He pushed an eye against her nipple, and she felt its quivering lid. His head turned slightly, and he slid the nipple across his other eye. Then he took it into his mouth.
Dani stroked his head. ‘Now,’ she whispered. ‘I want you now.’
He stood up. He held her breasts as she unbuttoned his waist band.
‘This is . . .’ He swallowed. ‘Better than I ever imagined.’
‘Me too.’ Dani slid his zipper down. His erection sprang out. Crouching down, Dani lowered
his pants. She held them at his knees. Her right hand eased up his thigh.
Tony moaned.
He bellowed when her fist smashed into his scrotum. He staggered backwards. The pants tripped him. He dropped to his rump and fell sideways, curling up and clutching himself.
Dani scrambled for the knife. She spotted it under the coffee table. Dropping to her knees, she reached under and grabbed it. Then she hurried back to Tony.
He was still curled up, writhing and groaning.
She knew she could get away while Tony was helpless. In another couple of minutes, though . . .
She raced into the kitchen, threw open the workroom door and slapped the light switch. On a hook near the window hung a coil of rope, the remains from what they’d used to tie up the Sandra Blaine mannequin for Carrion. She ran for it. The edge of the workbench gouged her hip. She winced and gritted her teeth against the pain, but didn’t stop, Stretching up, she grabbed the rope and yanked it free.
She dashed into the kitchen. Her sweaty feet slipped on the linoleum, but the dining room carpet gave good traction and she sprinted for the living room.
Tony was gone.
29
DANI STOOD on the carpet where, less than a minute ago, the boy had been squirming in agony. Now, only his trousers and a few smears of blood remained to mark the place.
She looped the rope over her head to free her left hand. She scanned the living room, turning slowly. The only light came from the foyer. It reached the area where she stood, casting her shadow over the pale carpet, dimming a short distance beyond and leaving much of the room murky.
Tony would be there. Maybe hiding behind the curtains that stretched across the sliding door and picture windows. Maybe crouched by the sofa or easy chair. Maybe hunched down next to the stereo console. Waiting. Ready to spring at her.
She backed away. Standing under the light, she glanced down the long corridor.
He might even be down there. Waiting inside the guest bathroom or her bedroom.
The knob of the front door pressed cool against her rump. In seconds, she could be outside, racing to a neighbor’s house. But that wouldn’t help Jack.
Buried alive.
My God, buried alive!
Night Show Page 17
