No Sanctuary

by Richard Laymon

  “If they feel cornered, they might decide to go for broke and have at us. I seriously doubt that we’d come out on top. Let’s just stay out of their way. If we circle the lake, we can come around from the front and join up with the girls, and those three scums won’t know that we’re onto them.”

  “That makes sense,” Bert said. “Yeah. That’s what we’ll do.”

  “Guess we can write this place off,” Bert said when they came to the stream. “Now we’ve gotta stick with the girls.”

  “Maybe we can all come over here.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” she muttered. “It’s no good now, anyway.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She shrugged and looked at him. “It was nice, though, wasn’t it?” .

  “Fantastic.”

  “At least we had that.”

  They hiked through the trees, staying away from the shoreline path, until they heard faint splashing sounds. Then Rick led the way to the edge of the lake. They ducked behind a deadfall and peered out through the rotted limbs.

  “Oh great,” Bert said. “Just great.”

  Andrea and Bonnie were directly across the lake from them, knee-deep in the water near the shore. Bonnie, in her yellow bikini, was bent over and splashing herself. Andrea, in a black bikini, stood closer to the shore, rigid and hugging her chest as if she were freezing.

  Rick turned his eyes to the jut of rocks where the boys had been. He couldn’t see them.

  “So where are the guys?” Bert asked.

  “Still there, probably. Enjoying the view.”

  “Nice of the girls to be so obliging.”

  “They don’t know they’re being watched,” Rick said.

  Bonnie waded farther out. The water climbed her stout legs. Her lips peeled back in a grimace when the cold lapped her groin. She turned to face Andrea. She spoke, but Rick couldn’t quite make out her words. When Andrea replied, her voice carried clearly across the water. “Yeah, sure it’s not so bad. Tell me that when you’re pissing icicles.”

  “Come on,” Bert said. “Let’s get going.”

  Rick glanced toward the rocks. This time he did see a shadow. Small. Fleeting. Even imagined a low, cackling laugh. He exhaled slowly and shook his head in disbelief. What was the matter with him? The place was giving him the creeps, that was the matter. At least The Three Thugateers were flesh and blood. He could handle them okay. But skinny shadows? No way.

  Bert was moving forward. Had she seen him staring at the rocks like some crazy lunatic? In case she had, Rick said, “I wish the guys would show themselves.”

  Andrea turned around and waded toward shore. Her hips swayed. Her small, firm rump flexed with each step. Her bikini pants were low enough for Rick to see the shadow of cleavage between her buttocks.

  “Quit stalling,” Bert said. “You’re no better than those peeping Toms.”

  “I just hope they don’t do anything but look,” he said. “We’d better get over there fast.”

  “Before the girls get dressed,” Bert added.

  She is psychic.

  With Bert in the lead, they stayed away from the shore, and only pale bits of the lake were visible through the dense trees to the right. A few times, Rick heard the girls’ faint voices. There were occasional splashing sounds.

  Finally, Rick saw bright orange in the distance. “Looks like a tent,” he said.

  Bert nodded.

  They made their way into the clearing. Their own packs were on the ground near the side of the tent. The girls’ packs were propped up against rocks, and open. Rick saw no one, not even when he turned toward the lake. He felt himself knot up.

  Oh my God, he thought.

  We would’ve heard shouts, he told himself.

  Not necessarily. If the guys took them by surprise ...

  He headed for his pack.

  “Going for your camera?” Bert asked. The smile fell off her face when she saw Rick’s expression. “What’s wrong? You don’t think... ?” Her head snapped toward the lake. “Bonnie?” she called. “Andrea?”

  “Over here,” Bonnie called from the direction of the lake.

  “You guys get lost or something?” Andrea asked.

  Bert looked relieved. She glanced at Rick and rolled her eyes upward.

  “False alarm,” Rick muttered.

  He followed Bert to the lake shore and they found the girls on a sunlit slab of rock that slanted gently into the water. They had their towels beneath them. Bonnie was sitting up, hands on her raised knees, looking over her shoulder as they approached. Andrea was stretched out, face resting on her crossed arms. Her bikini top, untied so the strings wouldn’t leave marks across her back, was pressed between her body and the towel. The side of her breast was bare and pale. Rick forced himself to look away. He glanced to the left. The cluster of rocks where the boys had been lurking was farther away than he had supposed—maybe fifty yards off. With the binoculars, though, they’d still have a fine view.

  “Don’t look around or anything,” Bert told the girls. “Try not to show any reactions.”

  Frowning, Bonnie turned herself around to face them.

  Andrea lifted her head. She glanced from Bert to Rock.

  “The guys are here,” Rick said.

  “You’re shitting me,” Andrea muttered. “Our guys? The chain-gang?”

  “They’re down the shore a ways,” Bert explained. “Or they were, when we saw them about half an hour ago. They were hiding behind some rocks, watching the two of you while you were in the water.”

  “Jesus.”

  “You’re serious?” Bonnie asked. “They’re right here at the lake?” She kept her eyes on Bert. Rick admired her restraint in not trying to spot them. “They were way up the trail above us,” she said. “They came all the way down just to...”

  “Must’ve really liked what they saw,” Andrea said.

  “Where are they?”

  Bert turned so her body would block the boys’ view, raised a hand to her belly, and pointed.

  Bonnie still didn’t look that way. Andrea tried, twisting her head to look over her shoulder and rolling just a bit. Her right breast unmashed and lifted partway out of the limp bikini. Bert sidestepped into the path of Andrea’s view. Unable to see past her, Andrea eased down again. She picked up the ends of her bikini strings, bent her arms up high behind her back, and started to tie them.

  “To get over there,” Bonnie said, “they had to go right past us.”

  “You know, this really sucks.” Andrea finished tying her bikini. She sat up, adjusted her top, and crossed her legs. “Do you realize how much this sucks? These scrotes came all the way down the trail. They were almost to the top. They came all the way back down and snuck past and spied on us like a bunch of fucking voyeurs. And we’re not supposed to know they’re around. What are they planning on, anyway? They obviously aren’t gonna leave, not this late in the afternoon. It not only sucks, it’s extremely creepy.”

  “Aren’t they going to pitch tents or build a fire or anything?” Bonnie asked.

  “If they do that,” Rick said, “they’ll give away that they’re here.”

  “What they’re gonna do,” Andrea said, “is keep hidden and sometime during the night they’re gonna move in.”

  Bonnie looked up at Rick. “What are we going to do?” He thought about the gun in his pack.

  “I’ll tell you what I think,” Bert said. “Why don’t you two get into some clothes, then the four of us will take a walk and pay the guys a visit.”

  Andrea grinned. “Fuckin’ A, right!”

  onnie looked grim. She nodded. “Yeah, let’s face the bastards.”

  “I agree,” Rick said. “If there’s going to be trouble, better to get it over with. While it’s still light out and we can see what we’re doing.”

  “What they’re doing,” Bert added. “And let’s not go empty-handed.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Damn it,” Bert said. “I have to pee.”


  “Pick a tree,” Rick told her.

  She scanned the woods around the clearing. “What about our three friends? I certainly don’t need an audience.”

  “They’re probably still near the place where we spotted them. I don’t think they’d come in close. Not while it’s still light out.”

  “Want to come along?”

  “I thought you didn’t need an audience.”

  “You don’t have to watch.”

  How do I get out of this? he wondered. The girls were inside their tent getting dressed. Bert going off to urinate would give him just the chance he needed to grab his revolver out of the pack.

  Bert reached a suitable clearing, well away from the trail, bent over her pack and took out some toilet paper and a small plastic shovel. She frowned. And bent her head to get a closer look at what she saw on the ground.

  A paw print. A large one.

  “My God,” she breathed, almost forgetting why she was here in the first place. Her stomach lurched and a warm patch began to spread between her legs. She clamped her muscles tight to stop the patch getting any bigger.

  Bert rocked back on her heels. Trying to come to terms with what this new danger would mean to them. She leaned forward to examine the palm-size pawmark imprinted in the sand.

  Relatively new. A few hours old at the most. Another one, to the right of the first, lay about eight inches ahead. She looked back and saw two more.

  “My God,” she whispered again. Cougar, by the look of it—and one helluva size. It’s in the vicinity. Or was last night. Just passing through? Or is this its patch?

  No sign of it now, anyway. She got to her feet. Slowly. Thinking, one cougar and you got more cougars ... Great. That’s all we need. Should’ve listened to Rick and gone to Mauii instead.

  Scooping up her pack, paper and trowel, Bert raced back to Rick.

  “Hey,” she panted, pulling up short. She took a couple of deep breaths to steady the tremor in her voice. “Looks like we got company, Rick. Big cat type company...”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Sure. Come see for yourself. I know cougars are around in the mountains, the Rockies, mainly. But let’s hope this is a one-off that’s strayed from home...”

  She tried, but she couldn’t convince herself that this cougar was a one-off. One vacation she’d helped out at a feline breeding center in Rosamund. From her time there, she’d learned enough about big cat behavior to know that there was probably a mom cougar, and a bunch of kitty cougars holed up in the rocks somewhere near.

  Rick followed her back to the clearing.

  Apart from coyotes and maybe the occasional wolverine, he’d discounted other wildlife. Keep to the track, he’d thought. No problems if we keep to the track. But if it looks like we got mountain lions tracking us down as well as the teen trio, then maybe it’s time to bring out the gun ...

  “We better keep our eyes peeled. For cats—and for The Three Thugateers,” Bert said. “And tell the girls, too. Better safe than sorry. Anyway, we keep to the main trail, cougars won’t bother us.”

  “Okay. But you said we shouldn’t confront the guys empty-handed,” Rick said. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Weapons.” She patted the sheath knife on her belt and eyed Rick’s. “The girls have knives, too.”

  Rick opened the side pocket of his pack. He pulled out the T-shirt and unwrapped his revolver.

  Bert gazed at it. “My God,” she muttered.

  “Just in case there’s real trouble,” he said. He lifted the back of his shirt and pushed the pistol under his belt. Its barrel slid down cool between his buttocks. He let his shirt-tail hang out to conceal the bulge.

  “I don’t believe this,” Bert said.

  “I knew you wouldn’t like the idea. That’s why I kept it out of sight. But it’ll do us a lot more good than knives and a hatchet.”

  “You wouldn’t shoot anyone?”

  “If we’re attacked ... This isn’t fun ’n games, Bert. We’ve got to be ready to protect ourselves.”

  “But a gun.”

  “They’ve got knives, too, you know. You actually think we’d stand a chance if it came to a fight?”

  “I don’t want anyone getting killed.”

  “As long as it’s them and not us.”

  “You and Dirty Harry. Maybe we shouldn’t take any weapons at all.”

  “Are you looking to get yourself gang-raped? Or chewed up by a cougar?”

  “Yeah. Cougars.” The color drained from her face.

  “It’ll stay in my belt unless they try for us.”

  “Promise?” she asked in a small voice. “You won’t wave it in their faces and threaten them?”

  “They’ll never know I have it. If I pull the gun, it comes out firing.”

  “Don’t let the girls know about it, either. Andrea—she might start something with the guys if she knew you had it.”

  “It’ll be our secret. You and me.”

  “I wish it was just your secret.”

  “Well, now at least you know we’ve got some protection.”

  “A real comfort. You didn’t happen to bring along a nuclear warhead?”

  “Wouldn’t fit in my pack.”

  Bert sighed. “Let’s go. My teeth are floating.”

  He followed her out of the clearing. They leaped the small stream. A distance beyond it, he stopped and Bert went ahead. She stepped behind a tree. Rick heard her belt buckle, the rustle of fabric as she lowered her pants.

  She didn’t take it well, he thought. But at least she didn’t go ape. She’ll be damn glad I’ve got the gun if things get so bad that I have to use it. The look on her face when I mentioned getting gang-banged. Hell, she’d probably use it herself before she’d let that happen.

  Give the gun to ber if she’s so afraid of what I’ll do with it.

  I don’t think so. No, I don’t think so. Not such a hot idea. She might not even know how to fire the thing, and even if she did, she might chicken out until it’s too late. Too late for all of us.

  I’ll just keep it, thanks.

  Just let them try something, they’ll be dead meat.

  Dead meat.

  The words had a chilling ring to them.

  Rick began to tremble. His breath hissed through his clenched teeth.

  If I’d had a gun last time, Julie would still be alive. They wouldn’t have fucked her and killed her. I’d have blown their heads off and saved her and we wouldn’t have been alone together until Dad got back with help and Dad wouldn’t have acted like I’d killed her and he wouldn’t have turned into a drunk and killed himself and my life wouldn’t have turned to shit.

  All because I didn’t have a gun.

  Well, I’ve got one now.

  Bert came out from behind the trees, fastening her belt. When she saw Rick, her face darkened. “What’s wrong?” She looked around as if expecting to spot the guys.

  “Everything’s fine,” Rick said.

  “Is it?”

  “I’m just worried about what might happen.”

  “What’s to worry about? You’ve got your equalizer.”

  “Thank God.”

  They returned to the clearing. The girls were out of their tent. Both had changed into jeans and jogging shoes. Bonnie wore a sweatshirt, Andrea a red plaid shirt with long sleeves. It looked too big for her, and it wasn’t tucked in.

  “Do you have knives or something?” Rick asked.

  Nodding, Bonnie patted a bulge in a front pocket of her jeans. Andrea lifted the front of her shirt. Sheathed at her hip was a hunting knife with a staghorn handle. “Bonnie has a tomahawk we could take along,” she said.

  “It’s my brother’s old Boy Scout hand-axe. But we probably shouldn’t take it with us. I mean, we don’t want to look like we’ve come to do battle.”

  “I agree,” Bert said. “I think we should just play it very cool.”

  “Maybe you should do the talking,” Rick suggested. “You were good with them this mor
ning.”

  “Okay.”

  “And no mouthing off,” Bonnie told Andrea.

  “You think I’m stupid?”

  “You flipped them off, didn’t you?”

  “That was different. They were ten miles away.” She scrunched up her face and said, “Uh-oh. You don’t suppose that’s why they came down? Maybe I pissed them off and they came down to pound the shit out of me.”

  Her tone was half joking, but Rick could see that the possibility had her worried.

  He’d read, last month, of a motorist being killed because he gave the finger to the driver of a pickup truck that cut him off. The pickup stopped, blocking the road. The driver got out, pulled the man from the car, and beat him to death with a tire iron.

  “I’m sure your gesture didn’t help the situation,” Bonnie said.

  “I doubt if that’s why they’re here,” Bert said, and Rick nodded in agreement.

  “Good. Glad of that. So all they want to do is fuck our butts off.”

  “Hilarious,” Bonnie muttered.

  “Come on,” Bert said. “Let’s get it over with.”

  She led the way. Rick followed. His leg muscles felt soft and shaky. Everything, he realized, felt soft and shaky, as if his skin was filled with jelly.

  “Oh, and incidentally,” Bert murmured, over her shoulder,

  “I came across cougar tracks when I went for a pee back there.” She glanced at the girls’ faces and saw that she had all of their attention. “Just thought you ought to know.”

  “Should we whistle a happy tune?” Andrea asked.

  “Should we shut up?” Bonnie suggested.

  “Everybody wearing clean panties?”

  Rick heard a soft whack.

  “Hey!”

  “Just cut it out,” said Bonnie. “There’s nothing funny going on here.”

  “Why don’t you lighten up.” Andrea sounded hurt. “Just because we’re walking toward our imminent defilement and demise, you don’t have to be so fucking tense about it.”

  Rick looked back. “We’ll be okay,” he said.

  Andrea made a grim smile. “Encouragement from the male. You ever hear the one about the Lone Ranger and Tonto? They’re surrounded by an Injun war party, they’re out of ammo. The Lone Ranger turns to Tonto and says, ‘Looks like we’re gonna buy the ranch.’ And Tonto, he says, ‘What you mean we, white man?’ ”