They’d taken his body.
Erin took a step forward, peering into the field. She saw in her mind Lawrence displayed on his back, moving as if he were floating down the field. Being carried like a picnic basket by ants in an old cartoon.
Another realization came to her. Wherever Lawrence was, the keys were with him.
“Oh…fuck me…” she muttered.
There was no driving out of here, unless he did have a key stashed in the van. Just as she decided she would tear the van apart to find one, a concert of hoots and howls tore through the stillness of the air. It was as if the cries were a part of the climate, coming from nowhere. She saw nothing to indicate mouths were producing them, but she heard them, all around, growing louder as they neared.
Sounds like they’re coming from behind me!
From near the van.
Erin turned around, walking backward as she kept her eyes fixed on the van. The door was open; the Haunchy clamped there was gone.
“Oh my God!”
She prepared to run. Whoops and yelps all around, closing in like a pack of coyotes. But she saw no one.
“Where are you!?!”
The wicked chatter loudened, coming closer. She realized if she could hear them at all, she shouldn’t be anywhere near this area.
Where could she go? She saw the field. Dashed for it.
Erin almost made it. She was so close to reaching the field when the net dropped down on her like a blanket of mesh. Rocks had been used as weights, and she could see them bouncing around her. Could hear them clicking when they became entwined, constricting. Her legs pushed together as the ensnaring shawl pressed in. She dropped forward, chin hitting the ground.
Everything flashed to a searing white, then faded to black.
Somewhere in the abyss of her tittering unconsciousness, she heard the chatter surrounding her fallen body.
Brooke
Handcuffed to a spout coming from the wall, Brooke hung from her wrists. Legs bent, the cuffs dug into the skin around her wrists, from her sagging weight, and though it hurt like hell, she allowed it because her feet couldn’t fight a floor slippery with water and soap.
He’d had the water on to get her wet enough to lather, but before he’d started spreading the soap over her skin, he’d shut it off.
Piper was sensitive as he lathered her skin in soap, taking his time around her breasts, cupping her groin while he worked the soap between her thighs. His hands massaged her buttocks, gripping and squeezing as he coated them in suds. She felt his erection poking against her as he moved around, hands sliding over skin. His breaths came in asthmatic swells, like a nervous teenager seeing a woman naked for the first time.
Tom had been like that their first time. So anxious, his hands had trembled when he touched her.
Piper kept kneading, smearing the bubbles into a foamy cream. Once she was fully dressed in a frothy, white suit, he walked to the other end of the shower room and pulled down the hose from a mount on the wall. It was one of those industrial types, not quite as big as the ones firemen use, but it was close enough.
The water was slightly warm as it pelted her. Her skin lit up in a fury of stings as if she’d fallen into a hornets’ nest. Pink soap streamed down her body. She watched it flow between her toes, swirling down the drain at her feet. Tiny chunks got caught in the grate, but eventually they went down as well.
It was only after the spraying had ended that she realized her blood was what had made the water take on a crimson hue. The bite marks and abrasions he’d caused last night being reopened by the heavy torrents assaulting her. Thin rivulets trickled down her chest and bare pubic mound.
Piper let the hose drop. It hit the tile with a tinny clap that echoed in the hollow room.
Head hanging low, wet hair plastered to her face, Brooke panted. Her arms reached above her, holding her up by the chain between the cuffs. She lifted her head and turned to look at him. Piper stood at the front of the room, naked, his erection like a small extended arm with a knobby fist. He had a steely grin on his face, his eyes as dark as coal.
He stepped forward. His feet made squelching sounds on the wet floor as he walked. His penis bobbed stiffly with each step.
Brooke prepared herself. He was about to take her again.
No…
He stepped up behind her. He reached around her front and cupped a breast in each hand. Squeezing them, his skin squeaked against hers. She heard him snicker, as if the tiny fart-like sounds were funny to him.
“Ready to dry off?” he asked.
Wincing at the forceful touch of his hands, she didn’t respond. And no matter what happened, she wouldn’t beg him. Hoping to rob him of at least some of his power, she wouldn’t give him the benefit of a single plea.
He let go of her breasts. She heard the soft splashes his feet made as he walked away. A few moments later, he returned. The towel was dry and warm as it rubbed her legs. It tickled between her legs, triggering goose bumps on her skin. His hands patted her more than was necessary down there. Then the towel was on her back, rubbing paths through the condensation on her skin.
“Now the front,” he whispered more to himself than her.
He wheezed while toweling off her breasts. He really seemed to be captivated by their plump shape. Their above-average size was something she’d inherited from her grandmother, and Brooke used to flaunt them whenever she could, usually just to make Tom crazy. Never again. If she ever got out of this, she’d wear sweaters all year long, probably an undershirt as well, to hide them.
Raising the towel to her head, Piper scrubbed her hair. He wasn’t gentle here, drying her like a dog after its bath. She felt strands being snatched from her scalp as he worked. Finished, he tossed the towel away.
Brooke’s hair hung in her face. Lifting her head, she tried to see him through the lengthy veil.
“I’m about to bust,” he said.
Brooke almost asked him to stop. She bit her lip to keep from talking. She felt him grab her wrists and raise her hands. When he let go, her arms dropped in front of her. Both arms felt as if she’d fallen asleep on top of them. Numb and useless, they tingled as blood pumped through in bubbly currents.
“Down,” he said.
He gripped her shoulders and shoved her down. Her knees smacked the tile. They slid forward in the shallow puddles, flinging her onto her side. She pounded the floor with a grunt.
“Ah, so you can still make sounds.” Laughing, he slapped one of her buttocks.
Brooke groaned. She tried to roll onto her stomach, but Piper gripped her hips to stop her. He flipped her onto her back, shoving her legs out the way. The cold floor stung her back. She flinched, arching her back to get away from the chilled water.
He started crawling between her legs. Situating himself, he nudged her inner thighs with his hips, telling her to spread them wider.
With no other choice, she obliged. She felt the tip of his erection prodding her sex as he placed a hand on either side of her head. She looked up at him and when she saw he was slightly blurred, she realized she was crying.
Damn it.
She couldn’t force herself to zone out like she did last night.
“There you go, girl,” he said. “Cry for me.”
He put all his weight on one hand and put the other one on her breast. He was playing with her nipple when his locking arm slipped out from under him. The floor was too slick for him to get good enough traction, and he crashed down on her chest, mashing her breasts with his thick pectorals. His face nearly collided with hers. She felt his penis push against her.
Lifting his head, he looked down at her and laughed. “Oops,” he said. “Kind of lost my balance there.” His smile seemed to stretch even more. “Maybe we should move to the other room?”
Before even realizing she was going to, her head shot forward.
She felt her brow bash his nose, heard his nose break. Her vision turned splotchy for a moment but quickly cleared. Her head fell back, and she saw Piper staring at her, dumbfounded. His mouth moved, but no words came out. Eyes glassy and confused, runnels of blood flowed from each nostril, down his mouth, and dripped onto her chest.
Then he collapsed, landing on her even harder than the first time.
Holy shit! I knocked him out!
Brooke tried to get out from under him. Wriggling, she scooted sideways, thrusting with her shoulders to move him over. The pressure of his body shifted, smearing red trails across her breasts. Finally, he fell off her, hitting the floor limply.
He didn’t move.
Brooke was free.
She sat up, holding her cuffed hands before her. Giving one last glance at Piper to confirm he was out cold, she scuttled forward by her feet, using her heels to drag her. Her rump squeaked across the floor.
Smiling, she resisted the urge to laugh. She’d gotten him good. He wasn’t expecting it. She’d hoped for a moment like this and had gotten it much sooner than expected. The feeling of triumph was short-lived as she began to understand how badly she’d screwed up.
If he wakes up…
She looked back. He still wasn’t moving. Lying on his side, back facing her, he was motionless, as if asleep. Knocked the hell out. His ass was dimpled from the way his legs were splayed out in front of him. His back blocked the view of his arms, making him look like an amputee victim.
She still had time.
Facing forward, her eyes searched for his clothes. She couldn’t remember where he’d left them.
He was wearing them when he cuffed me to the spout.
But she didn’t see them now, though she noticed her gown hanging from a row of clothing hooks on the wall. Piper’s clothes weren’t there. Which meant his belt wasn’t here, either. And without the belt, she wouldn’t be able to get the keys for the handcuffs.
A squeaky whine escaped her. Looking behind her, she checked on Piper.
And saw him starting to move.
Brooke gasped. “Shit!”
Panic squeezed her heart. She scrambled to a squat. It was hard to do without the luxury of separating her arms, but she still managed to get herself upright. Standing, she took a moment to make sure her feet were secure. The floor was slippery and cold, and if she wasn’t careful, she would fall.
And that would be bad. More than likely she’d crack her head open on the hard tile.
Would be better than letting him get me again.
He would kill her, no doubt about it. And he would prolong it as much as possible. She thought she knew torture before, Piper would prove how uneducated she truly was.
Groans uttered behind her.
Shuffling her feet over the tile, Brooke made her way to her gown. She pulled it down from the hook, draped it over her shoulder, and shuffled over to the doorway next to the rack of hooks. On the other side of the doorway was a narrow hall that reached the other side of the station. She saw a few doors spread out along the walls.
Brooke stole another glance over her shoulder. Piper was now on one knee, a hand under his nose. Blood dribbled over his knuckles. His eyes still seemed lost, as if he’d just woken from a deep sleep. His head turned toward her.
“You did this,” he said in a groggy voice.
“Stay away from me,” she said, her tone nowhere near as threatening as she’d hoped.
His eyes lost their inebriated gaze. He shook his head as if to clear the remaining fog in his mind. Her moment of having the upper hand had already passed.
“Bitch!” he growled. “I’m going to kill you!”
He hopped into a crouch like a frog about to leap. Screaming, Brooke walked backward. Her back bumped the doorway. Piper pushed off with his foot, ready to chase after her, and slipped again. He landed on the floor, water splashing around him, and spun nearly in a circle. Trying to get right back up, his foot slid out from under him again and brought him back down. Shouting cusswords, Piper struggled to get up.
Brooke couldn’t stick around to see if he succeeded. She turned and sprinted out of the room. Her feet slapped the floor, leaving translucent footprints in the hall.
She passed a room that looked like a kitchen and caught a glimpse of a tan uniform. It looked like another officer was in there. Trying to stop, her feet skidded across the floor. She twirled around, running back to the doorway, peering inside.
The uniform lacked a man to fill it. The shirt hung on a hanger, unbuttoned, the pants were folded and draped through the hanger like a khaki tongue. She recognized the badge as one meant for the sheriff. Piper’s uniform.
Then his belt had to be in here too.
And it was. She saw it coiled on the table like a flat, polished snake. The black leather gleamed in the murky light. Brooke nearly gasped in delight. Running across the room, she snatched the belt off the table. Its weight caught her by surprise and the belt flew from her hand. Hitting the floor, it whirled and stopped straight.
Damn!
She ran to the belt, crouching in front of it. Flipping the belt over, she saw the handgun in the holster. It was a massive hand cannon, a six-shot revolver. The ivory handle looked like bone under the chrome body.
Keys first.
They dangled from a clip on the belt.
“Broooooke!”
Piper sounded far off, down the hall maybe. Wherever he was, he was definitely closer than before.
Brooke nibbled her lip, moaning as her stomach dropped. She pulled the keys off the belt and held them up. The light in the room was off, so all she had to see by was what the window allowed in. With the blinds drawn, the room was filled with a murky tint.
There were so many damn keys on the ring, but only three little ones. She flipped to those and pinched the first one between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand. Tilting her wrist, she angled her hand so the lock was pointing up. She stuck the key in.
It fits!
But it wouldn’t turn.
She pulled the key out, trying the next one. It also fit, but didn’t unlock the cuffs, either. Are any of these going to work!?! That would be a fitting end to this. Finding a ring of keys and none of them being the one she needed. She was so convinced that was what would happen, she didn’t let her hopes rise as she slipped the final key into the lock.
The click when it unlocked the cuff was the greatest sound she’d ever heard.
“Where are you!?!” Piper’s voice was closer still. In the hall. The rage in his voice made him sound like a vocalist in a death-metal band.
Moaning with dread, Brooke pulled the cuff off her wrist. She switched the keys to the other hand, pinched the correct one and lowered it to the other lock with trembling fingers. She missed the hole a couple times before the key finally went in.
The cuffs fell to the floor.
Piper must have heard the rattling thump of their landing, for he yelled, “No!”
He was just outside, maybe a couple feet from the doorway. Though her wrists felt better being free of the cuffs, she didn’t have time to enjoy it. She threw the gown over her head, leaving it around her neck like a towel.
Then she started tugging on the gun. It wouldn’t come free from its clasp and she didn’t have the time to fight with it. Throwing the belt across the room, it landed on the other side of a small table.
She stood up. Looked around. Saw a broom leaning against the wall. She ran across the room, snatched the broom by its handle and ran back to the door. Holding the staff on either end, she raised it above her head. Then she brought it down, bringing her knee up to meet it. The slender wooden bar snapped in half. She tossed the straw head away.
Piper appeared in the doorway, naked and glossy from the water. He was growling, a corner of his lip lifted, baring some of his teeth. He saw her char
ging with the jagged end of the handle pointed at him.
His sneer dropped off to a wide-eyed mask of shock.
He caught her arms just before the broom impaled him, though her momentum still shoved him back. His feet squeaked as they scooted across the floor. His back pounded the wall, stopping their movements. Brooke jerked against him, trying to shove the point into his stomach, but he was just too strong.
Holding on to her arms, Piper swung her around. She pounded the wall with her hip and arm. She didn’t let go of the broken handle.
“Knock it off, Brooke,” said Piper with a hint of amusement in his voice. “You’re being silly.”
Silly!?!
Treating her as if she were harmless filled her with rage. Gone was the worry he’d had moments ago. Here she was trying to ram the broom handle through his gut and he thought it was…cute? The tickled grin on his face showed her that was what he thought.
Brooke brought her knee up, crushing his testicles and blasting the air out of his lungs. Piper’s knees folded and he dropped down on them, still clasping her arms. The goofy look on his face was replaced by rounded eyes and his mouth shaping an O around his coughing breaths. His cheeks turned a dark shade of red, bordering on purple.
She jerked her arms free of his hands. Raising the broom handle, she quickly brought it down. Piper ducked his head and the pointy tip hit the wall and broke. The jolt of the impact sent throbbing tendrils up her arm.
She dropped the wood.
It clamored like a baseball bat when it hit the floor. Before she could go for it again, Piper had already grabbed it with the hand that wasn’t clutching his genitals.
Brooke didn’t attempt a counterattack. Instead, she turned around and bolted down the hall. Her breasts bounced and swayed, knocking against her pumping arms. Her hair fluttered out behind her, clumpy and wet.
She passed her cell. Rooms on each side of the hall came next. Those doors were shut and she didn’t fret with checking inside. Reaching the end of the hallway, she had to go right since only a wall was to her left.
The Lurking Season Page 15
