Blood Games

by Richard Laymon

  ‘Amos,’ Batty informed her guests.

  The cat switched its tail.

  ‘Figures,’ Finley said. ‘A witch, a cat.’ Smirking at Batty, she asked, ‘Do you know where Helen is? Have you seen her? Or are you just planning to divine for us?’

  Abilene grimaced. Was Finley nuts? How could she talk this way to a lunatic?

  ‘I’ll know,’ Batty said, and placed the bowl on top of the map.

  ‘If this is gonna involve chicken heads…’

  ‘Can it!’ Abilene whispered. ‘Okay? Just cut it out.’

  Finley tilted one corner of her mouth and rolled her eyes upward.

  Vivian seemed to be in her own mind, ignoring the exchange, gazing across the table with narrowed eyes. Her lips were stretched back, baring her teeth.

  Cora looked intense. As if she were scrutinizing Batty, wary but fascinated.

  Abilene flinched as Batty reached around from behind and slapped the huge knife on the table in front of her.

  ‘Part y’flesh and give.’

  Abilene twisted her head sideways and stared up at the wizened, whiskered face.

  ‘What?’

  ‘In the vessel.’

  ‘I don’t get it.’

  Finley grinned. ‘I think you’re supposed to cut yourself and bleed in the bowl. That right, Batty?’

  ‘All ya.’

  ‘Whoa, boy. I knew this’d get queer.’

  ‘It’s the way.’

  ‘Might be your way. That’s why they call you Batty.’

  ‘Shut up!’ Cora snapped.

  Finley flinched as if stunned by the loud rebuke. Face red, voice soft, she said, ‘You don’t believe in this stuff, do you?’

  ‘It’s worth a try.’

  ‘This androgynous loony tune wants us to cut ourselves.’

  ‘Stop it, Fin,’ Vivian said gendy. ‘I think we should do what Batty asks. If it helps us find Helen, that’s all that really matters.’

  ‘I want to find her as much as anyone. But going along with this crazy…’

  Abilene snatched up the knife and slashed the edge of her left hand.

  Finley gasped, ‘Shit!’

  Abilene stretched out her arm in time for the blood to spill into the bowl. The wound stung, but didn’t hurt as much as she’d expected. She watched the bright streamer of blood fall, heard quiet, plopping splashes.

  A hand squeezed her shoulder. Batty’s hand.

  ‘Yer a shiny soul.’

  She passed the knife to Finley, who sat to her right.

  ‘I’m sure,’ Finley muttered. She glanced at the others. She scowled at Abilene’s bleeding hand. Muttering, ‘We’ll probably end up with gangrene and lose our arms,’ she sliced herself. She reached out, and her hand joined Abilene’s above the bowl.

  She passed the knife to Cora. Without a moment’s hesitation, Cora gashed her hand and put it over the bowl. She gave the knife to Vivian.

  Vivian inspected her left arm as if searching for the best place to cut it. Then she settled, like the others, for the edge of her hand. As she slid the blade against it, her lips pursed and she murmured, ‘Ooooo.’

  There was silence as they all sat around the table, their left arms outstretched, their blood splashing into the bowl.

  Finley broke the silence.

  ‘Can’t wait to see what comes next.’

  ‘Nuff,’ Batty said.

  They pulled in their arms.

  ‘I don’t suppose you provide bandages,’ Finley said.

  Batty didn’t answer.

  Abilene pressed her cut against her skirt. Blood seeped through the denim, hot against her thigh. Finley grabbed a handful of shirttail and clutched it to her wound. Cora’s hands were out of sight beneath the table, so Abilene couldn’t see what she was doing, but Vivian kept her arm far to the side and bent down low. She pulled off her right sock, then wrapped it around her left hand.

  Batty stepped to the corner of the table between Abilene and Vivian, picked up the knife, then reached out and slid the bowl in front of Abilene.

  ‘Drink.’

  ‘Oh boy.’ From Finley.

  Abilene stared down at the bright red fluid. She felt as if her brain was shrinking and going numb. Her cheeks tingled. Saliva flooded her mouth, the way it sometimes did when she was on the verge of vomiting.

  It’s only blood, she told herself. Nothing to freak out about.

  She’d tasted blood before. Licking or sucking on tiny wounds after hurting herself. It wasn’t awful.

  But it was only my own.

  So what? This is just mine and Finley’s and Cora’s and Vivian’s. They’re like family. They’re like part of me.

  And it’s for Helen.

  Gulping her saliva down, she lifted the bowl with her uninjured hand. She tilted it to her mouth, shut her eyes to avoid looking at the crimson fluid, and sipped. It rolled in, warm against her gums and tongue, thicker than she’d expected. Her throat squeezed shut. She forced herself to swallow.

  She was about to lower the bowl when Batty said, ‘More.’

  Quickly, she tipped the bowl for another drink. Too quickly. Too carelessly. Her trembling hand, not quite in control of the heavy bowl, flooded her mouth with blood. She gulped it down. She gagged. Her eyes brimmed with tears. But she didn’t vomit.

  She passed the bowl to Finley.

  ‘This gonna turn us into vampires?’ Finley quipped.

  ‘Just drink some,’ Cora said.

  Finley raised the bowl close to her face. ‘Through the teeth and over the gums, watch out, stomach - here it comes.’ She drank. She took two big gulps. As she swallowed, she had a frantic look in her eyes. A look that made Abilene think she might suddenly hurl the bowl away and scream.

  Then Finley finished. She had a mustache like a kid who’d just polished off a glass of milk. But this mustache was red. She gave the bowl to Cora, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

  Cora took two sips of blood in the same way she had slit her hand - fast and determined. Then she sat very rigid for a moment. She shuddered. She passed the bowl to Vivian. She rubbed the shiny crimson from her lips.

  Vivian stared into the bowl. Her face looked unnaturally pale and slack. ‘I don’t know if I can,’ she muttered.

  ‘It’s not so bad,’ Abilene said.

  ‘Zee blood is zee life,’ Finley said.

  ‘Just don’t think about it,’ Cora advised her. ‘A couple of sips and you’ll be done.’

  ‘It’ll put hair on your chest,’ Finley added.

  ‘Just what I need.’ Vivian managed a sickly smile. Then she took a deep breath, sighed, raised the bowl to her mouth and drank. She swallowed twice. Lowering the bowl, she gasped as if she’d finally come up for air after nearly drowning. Blood dribbled down her chin. Before she could wipe it away, a drop fell onto the front of her white, knit shirt.

  Batty stepped up between Vivian and Abilene, lifted the bowl and drank. Gulp after gulp. Swallowing. Seeming to relish the taste. Then, lips tight, cheeks bulging, the old lunatic removed the bat-skull necklace. Held it high by its leather thong.

  Head tipped back, Batty opened wide and lowered the dangling skull. It went in white. It came out red. Batty’s lips wrapped around the base of the skull. Sucked off some of the excess blood before swallowing the mouthful and easing the necklace away.

  Like a pendulum, it swung across the leather map. Back and forth. Slowing down. Beginning to drift in lazy circles.

  A drop of blood gathered on the hanging jaw. Bloomed. Fell. And splashed the map midway between Cora and the edge of the lake.

  ‘Ah!’

  The single red bead was all that fell before Batty slipped the necklace back on. The skull made a smudge on the skin of the old lunatic’s chest.

  Batty aimed a finger at the spot of blood on the map.

  ‘That’s where you think Helen is?’ Cora asked.

  ‘Ghost Lodge.’

  ‘The Totem Pole Lodge?’

  ‘Call
it whatcha want.’

  Stunned, Abilene stared at the dot of blood. Its position, in relationship to the outline of the lake and the hole marking Batty’s cabin, actually did seem to be in the vicinity of the Totem Pole Lodge.

  Finley murmured, ‘Holy shit.’

  Vivian gazed at the spot. Her head shook slowly from side to side.

  Looking up at Batty, astonishment in her eyes, Cora said, ‘That’s where we were. That’s where she disappeared.’

  ‘She’s there.’

  ‘Is she all right?’ Abilene asked.

  ‘Can’t say.’

  ‘Do you know?’

  Not answering, Batty picked up the bowl and set it on the hardwood floor beside the table. A creak sounded in a far corner of the room. Abilene turned her eyes to the rocking chair. The cat was gone.

  Vivian groaned. She was looking down. Abilene followed» her gaze and found Amos hunched over the bowl. Tail twitching, the cat lapped away at the remaining slick of blood.

  ‘Y’ain’t from these parts,’ Batty said. ‘Don’t know better. Get y’Helen ’n get back where y’come from. ’N praise the Lord it’s old Batty y’run into. Some folks nearby, they’duz soon kill y’dead as spit on y’feet. Now scat.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Batty followed them through the kitchen door and down the back stairs.

  ‘I left something of mine in your shed,’ Cora said.

  ‘Fetch it.’

  ‘Watch what you step in,’ Finley warned.

  They waited while Cora hurried into the shed. She came out with her tire iron.

  Seeing it, Batty cackled. ‘That spose t’hurt someone?’

  ‘She just carries it around in case of a flat,’ Finley said.

  The mention of a flat tire triggered a thought in Abilene. She’d seen no evidence of a driveway or road, much less a car, since leaving the lodge. But she asked, anyway. ‘You don’t have a car, do you?’

  Batty answered with a snort.

  ‘What about a telephone?’

  ‘Who’d old Batty wanta call?’

  ‘Are there any homes nearby with cars or telephones?’

  ‘Y’find any home ’round this neck a the woods, y’d best run from it. Now get on back ’n find Helen, ’fore y’all get got.’ Batty stood watching while they turned away and walked around the corner of her cabin.

  Vivian glanced back as if afraid the old creature might be pursuing them. ‘God, is it good to get away from there.’

  ‘Too bad Helen wasn’t with us,’ Finley said. ‘She would’ve loved all that.’ Leading the way, she returned to the tree where she’d left the water bottle and chips. She picked them up, then looked back at the cabin. ‘Should we go the rest of the way around the lake, or what?’

  ‘Maybe we’d better head back the way we came,’ Cora said. ‘It’ll be quicker. If Helen’s really at the lodge…’

  ‘Besides,’ Abilene said, ‘I didn’t much care for what Batty had to say about her neighbors.’

  ‘What do you expect from a loony?’

  ‘I just want to get back to the lodge,’ Vivian said. ‘If we keep going around the lake, there’s no telling who we might run into. I sure don’t like the idea of meeting up with any more weirdos.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Abilene said. ‘Batty was more than enough.’

  ‘And it’d be a lot farther, that way,’ Vivian pointed out. ‘I don’t have any shoes.’

  ‘We’re lucky that’s all he wanted,’ Cora said.

  ‘She, it,’ added Finley.

  ‘We need to look after our cuts, too,’ Abilene said.

  ‘I’ve got a first aid kit in my suitcase,’ Cora said.

  ‘Is it settled, then?’ Vivian asked.

  ‘I don’t hear any objections,’ Cora said. ‘So I guess we’ll go back the way we came.’

  ‘And let’s be quick about it,’ Finley said. ‘Before we get got.’ They started hiking away from the cabin, heading for the north end of the lake. As she walked along, Abilene inspected her cut. The short slit, caked with a thread of thickened blood, was no longer leaking. The edge of her hand was stained as if she’d rubbed it against a rusty sheet of metal. It felt stiff and sore. The patch of blood on her skirt was tacky when it touched her thigh. Lifting the skirt, she saw a ruddy stain on her skin.

  Now that she was away from Batty, she found it hard to believe that they had actually entered the cabin at all, much less cut themselves with the maniac’s knife and drunk their own blood.

  ‘That was about the craziest damn thing we’ve ever done,’ she said.

  Cora smiled back at her. ‘Seemed like a good idea at the time.’

  ‘Speak for yourself,’ Finley said. ‘It never seemed like a good idea to me.’

  ‘You didn’t have to go along with it,’ Abilene said.

  ‘Didn’t want to be the party-pooper. Besides, it might’ve ruined the spell. Such as it was.’ After a few moments, she said, ‘Hey, if it turns out the old bat was full of shit, does Vivian get her shoes back?’

  ‘That’s only fair,’ Vivian said. ‘Will you collect the refund for me?’

  Abilene smiled, surprised to find Vivian joining in the banter. Cora abruptly halted and turned around, frowning.

  ‘What?’ Vivian asked.

  ‘This talk of going back makes me think. While we were there, we should’ve asked Batty where to find the car keys.’

  ‘Oh, let’s go back right away,’ Finley said.

  ‘She’d want somebody else’s shoes,’ Vivian said.

  ‘He, it.’

  ‘He/she/it’s got Viv’s,’ Abilene pointed out. ‘We’d have to give up something else.’

  ‘Like our duds,’ Finley said. ‘Old Batty could sure use a decent wardrobe.’

  ‘Yours,’ Abilene told her. ‘The fit’d be just right.’

  ‘Gimme a break.’

  ‘Maybe arrange a trade,’ Vivian said. ‘Fin’d look great in that vest, wouldn’t she?’

  ‘You got blood on your polo shirt,’ Finley pointed out. ‘Never gonna come out.’

  ‘So?’

  Finley shrugged. ‘Just hoping to ruin this giddy mood of yours. You’re really annoying when you’re cheerful.’

  We’re all acting incredibly cheerful, Abilene realized. It seemed strange until she thought about it. They’d just gone through some bizarre, rather harrowing experiences, and come out of them unscathed. It was the nervous, heady feeling of exhilaration that comes from knowing the crisis is over and everything is okay once again.

  Like after an earthquake.

  But the crisis isn’t over, she reminded herself. Everything isn’t okay. We’re safe from Batty, but Helen’s still missing.

  Maybe we will find her at the lodge.

  Following the others as they continued their journey around the end of the lake, Abilene thought how great it would be if Batty had been right about Helen’s location.

  There all the time. Never was abducted.

  It was what Abilene had really hoped all along.

  But don’t count on it, she warned herself. Helen might be anywhere. You can’t rely on the hocus-pocus of some freaky old hermit.

  You can’t rely on it, but you can’t discount it, either.

  Abilene considered herself to have an open mind. Maybe too open. Harris sometimes accused her of being gullible. But she couldn’t help what she believed.

  Among other things, she accepted the possibility that mysterious forces might be at work in the universe. There was plenty of circumstantial evidence to support the notion of God, for instance. The same with such matters as telepathy, visitors from outer space, reincarnation, ghosts, and various forms of fortune-telling. Some of these things were undoubtedly hogwash. But she suspected that not all of them were.

  So why not a Batty able to ‘see’ where Helen is?

  Maybe hogwash. But maybe not.

  Batty’d had no control over just where the drop of blood would land when it fell from that awful pendulum. But it had st
ruck the map almost exactly in the location of the lodge.

  Even if Batty somehow knew that’s where we’d come from, Abilene thought, why did the blood fall at that particular place?

  Maybe just coincidence.

  Coincidence. A nice catch-all for cynics. It could be used to explain away a whole array of mysteries.

  Maybe that's the real hogwash, Abilene thought. Maybe there’s no such thing as coincidence. Nothing is accidental, nothing random. Maybe everything is part of a pattern.

  In some ways that seemed to make a lot more sense than the idea that events were ruled by chance.

  Chance could obviously play a part in things. But as certain as Abilene felt that chance was a factor, she was even more certain that it was a minor player. A wild card.

  Cause and effect ran the game.

  Some of those causes, some of those effects, were just too subtle or disguised or mysterious to be recognized.

  So maybe it was chance, coincidence, that the drop of blood fell on the map just where it did. Or maybe Batty’s bizarre little ritual somehow caused it to land there.

  We’ll never know, Abilene thought.

  If we find Helen there…

  We still won’t know for sure. Finley would say it was a mere coincidence. Cora was too matter-of-fact to care one way or the other. She would just be glad that Helen was back in the fold, and not concern herself with Batty’s hand in the matter. Vivian would probably be just as astonished and perplexed as Abilene.

  Helen was the only one who would truly believe, without any doubt, in Batty’s power.

  It really is a shame she wasn’t with us, Abilene thought. Finley was right about that. Helen would’ve been scared witless, but she sure would’ve loved it.

  ‘When we find Helen,’ she said, ‘we really oughta take her back and introduce her to Batty.’

  'If we find her,’ Finley said, glancing back.

  Vivian looked over her shoulder, frowning. ‘I sure wish Batty’d told us whether she’s all right.’

  ‘Bat-brain doesn’t know shit, anyway. It was a waste of time. And blood.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Vivian said.

  Then they came to the mouth of the inlet. As Cora hurried over the rocks, apparently eager to jump in, Finley said, ‘Wait. Why don’t I fill up the bottle before you go in and mess up the water?’