"Vasquez," the clerk repeated dully. "High school kid? Regarding the murders?"
"Yeah. Has he been charged? Are you holding him?"
Despite Keith's urgency, the clerk searched his desk as listlessly as he spoke. He picked up one document, studied it, and then looked up at Keith.
"Nope. Came here, made a statement, and was released. I believe his aunt was with him." He whistled soundlessly as he studied the document once more. "Nope. He was not charged."
"Did you take any other statements?"
"I believe so," answered the clerk. "A coupla girls. They're not here now. Friends of yours?" The clerk, well into his thirties, smiled lecherously. Keith ignored him and ran out of the police station.
Keith drove straight to Mario's house. There were no cars in front. He rang the doorbell anyway, but there was no answer.
"Mario?" he yelled, pounding on the door for good measure. The door did not open.
Panicked, Keith jumped back into his car and screeched away from the curb. He was about to race over to Carrie's house when he suddenly felt his panic turn to reason. Mario could be anywhere in the city. And Carrie had his message, so if she knew anything, she'd call. Keith hated the thought of just waiting around, but there seemed to be nothing else he could do. He headed for home.
As soon as he got in, his mother told him his phone had rung. As they had agreed long ago, she had let his machine answer it. He sped up to his room and listened to the one message. It was Carrie telling him that she and Mario were at the Jaguar diner, having dinner and talking. He should come by, she said. Before the message ended, the phone rang again.
"Keith," said Carrie. She spoke quickly, in a panic. "What's wrong? I just called home. My parents said you left this long message, something about a poster, and Mario being in danger. What's going on?"
"Is he with you?" Keith asked instead of answering.
"He's right here. Now, what's wrong?" she demanded.
"I can't explain it. But stay with Mario. Don't let him out of your sight. And if you see the guy from the mall, call the police!"
"What are you talking about?" she asked. "You're not making any sense."
"I know. Let me talk to Mario. And then I'll be right down."
"But, Keith…"
"Give the phone to Mario!" he yelled. Carrie was only able to utter a squeak of surprise. Then he heard the receiver change hands.
"Dude, what's going on?" Mario asked carefully. "I heard that from three feet away."
"I'll tell you when I get down there. But stay with Carrie until I do," he pleaded. "You're in big trouble."
Mario laughed. "No, I'm not, dude. The police don't think I killed anyone." Then he stopped laughing. "You don't still think I did, do you?"
"No," Keith told him. He could hear Mario's sigh of relief. "And I'm sorry, and we'll talk about that," he said quickly. "But the poster…" he began, gesturing at the poster, even though Mario couldn't see it. "Oh, shit!" he muttered, caught again like a deer between the headlights of an eighteen-wheeler.
"What's wrong, dude?"
Keith could hear Mario's voice, but could not respond. The poster had him again. He braced himself for the headache and gripped the phone tightly. The dots swirled. The smears of color seemed to run into one another. An oval shape formed. A female face. Eyes opened, then closed. No gaping mouth this time, just a line turned sadly downward. Below the chin, the neck ended in a jagged line.
The headache struck, but this time Keith was ready. He did not fall, though the pain threatened to rob him of consciousness. From a great distance away, Keith could hear Mario's muffled voice.
"Keith! Keith, what's happening, dude? You there?"
Slowly Keith raised the receiver to his ear.
"It's Pam," he managed to say. "Pam's next. Is she with you?"
"No, she's out running, probably. Pam's next for what?"
"To die. Maybe. I don't know. I've never seen two images in a row like this. And you're still alive."
"You're scaring me, dude," Mario told him.
"I'm scared, too. But maybe I can save her. I'll go get Pam and bring her to the diner. Whatever you do, don't leave the diner. I'll be there soon."
"You're talking crazy," Mario was saying as Keith hung up on him.
Chapter 13
Springwood Park seemed especially quiet tonight. Pam was glad; her runs were as much meditation as exercise. Most of her clear thinking took place then. And tonight she had more thinking to do than usual. Home was not the place for reflection, she had discovered long ago. Too much time was spent countering her parents' attempts to control her. Sure, they were adults, and Pam allowed them a generous amount of say in her life. She had no choice. But they smothered her, and trumpeted their affluence in ways that might make her very unpopular if she didn't keep it under control.
She picked up her pace a bit. Darkness was rapidly descending and she didn't want to be out in it too long. Her parents almost hadn't let her out of the house at all. The murders of Skrag and Sandra had them on edge. Besides, if Mario hadn't done it (and she could tell they thought he had), then a killer was still on the loose and could strike again. Their fear was understandable, but Pam's need for space was stronger. In the end, she had used her secret weapon, the phrase "If you loved me…" to escape the house.
They had finally allowed her to take her run as usual, as long as she came home right after. Pam had bolted for the door before they could attach any more conditions.
Now she was outside, running in the cool early evening air. Trees and bushes lined the path; wet leaves carpeted it. An occasional bird called across the treetops. Then a twig snapped somewhere off to her left. Pam skidded to a halt. Something was in the bush just ahead. A squirrel or bird, no doubt. She relaxed and resumed her run.
To be honest with herself (and her parents), she was a little frightened to be out here alone. But the killer was probably some drug supplier of Skrag's, so she didn't feel too threatened. Poor Sandra, she thought. Dating Skrag was supposed to be just a little "walk on the wild side." Who'd have thought it would turn from wild to savage? Pam shook her head. Poor Sandra.
The path bordered a lake for some thirty yards before turning away from it again. The last sunlight reflected off its rippling surface. Pam could see tiny splashes in the water where fish caught insects trapped at the surface. Now the path inclined as it traced a line just below the crest of a hill that formed the northern border of the park.
The murders aside, Keith was the big problem now. Not that it was his fault. The blame really lay on Skrag. Mario and Pam had meant to be direct. They had realized their attraction for each other a few weeks ago. After several secretive dates, they had realized that this wasn't just an affair, but the beginning of a full-blown relationship. When that happened, it was only a matter of time, they figured, before they would tell Keith and Carrie how they felt. They just wanted to pick the right moment. Then Skrag saw them together one evening. He instantly figured out what was going on, and just to be a jerk, threatened to expose them. Mario was all for telling them right away, to take the wind out of Skrag's sails, but Pam had resisted. She still loved Keith and felt that he wasn't ready to handle the news. So Pam devised The Plan.
Mario didn't think The Plan would work. Pam explained it to him in detail: She thought Keith was still in love with Carrie. She would arrange times when the two couples would «accidentally» bump into one another. Once reintroduced, Keith and Carrie would become friends again. Perhaps they would fall in love again, announce the news to Pam and Mario, and the switchover would take place painlessly.
It might have worked, but Skrag blundered into the picture, taunting and threatening Mario. Mario had taken the threats seriously, had become increasingly defensive, and finally had provoked the fight the other night.
Then Skrag had been killed. When she'd first heard the news, she'd thought immediately of Mario. But in her heart, she knew that Mario had done nothing. That's why she had lied to the po
lice about being with Mario that night. Actually, she'd been home in bed, asleep. Mario said he had been home asleep, too, and she believed him.
Pam ran along the path now at its highest point. Bushes and trees obscured the crest of the hill to her left. To her right, the hill dropped away steeply. This area was mostly barren, save for grass and rocks. There were plans to extend the slope so that children could use it as a sledding area in the winter, but for now it was much too steep.
Pam flinched at the sound of another crackling branch ahead of her, but did not stop. Only another squirrel, she thought. Besides, she had nearly finished circling the park and would be going home soon. No sense in stopping now.
Something heavy suddenly struck Pam in the side and she went flying off the path toward the slope. For a split second she saw a dark shape, a man, above her. Then she was rolling out of control down the hill. Her speed picked up quickly. Pam heard a loud metallic snap and something bit into her leg. She screamed in pain. Seconds later, there came another snap — and more pain, this time around her upper left arm. A rock struck her head and she was dazed for a moment. A snatch of her wolf dream came back to her. Two snaps occurred in rapid succession and her right hand was suddenly paralyzed, along with her left foot. Pam could feel blood pouring from wounds inflicted by whatever was biting her. She was nearly at the bottom of the hill when something very large and sharp attached itself to her upper thigh, teeth severing the artery. Blood shot from the wound like a fountain.
Pam finally landed facedown in the dirt at the bottom of the hill. She was aware of several areas of her body where hard, sharp objects had bitten into her flesh. The weakness from massive blood loss was beginning. At some point during her fall, Pam had stopped screaming. Now she knew that if she didn't start screaming again soon, she'd die out here alone. But she had a face full of dirt. She had to turn over. She tried to rock her body toward her left shoulder, but the objects attached there prevented her from flipping around. She tried harder, but found herself too weak to gain any leverage. Her right hand and arm were nearly useless. Her strength ebbing rapidly, she began to rock toward her right shoulder. She found much less resistance, and her left hand was free to push. On the first try, pain made her black out. But when she awoke, she found she had made it onto her side. Now all she had to do was rock a little more to make it the rest of the way. She did so, and felt herself toppling onto her back.
Immediately Pam felt something hard and flat against the back of her head. As the weight of her head pressed her down on the surface, she heard the sound of a heavy spring uncoiling. She died instantly as heavy metal teeth bit into her flesh, nearly severing her head at the neck.
Chapter 14
Keith nearly fell halfway down the hill. As he regained his balance, he stepped on something. With a snap, something sharp bit into his shoe. He yelped and sat down quickly to avoid losing his balance. Moonlight glinted coldly off the object attached to his foot. He pried apart metal jaws and examined them. If the trap had been any bigger, or the material of his shoes any thinner, his foot might have been broken, or cut off. He stood up and limped down the hill.
He saw the dark shape of a body at the bottom. Panic rising, he ran straight for it. One white running shoe glowed in the dark. A white sweatband lay a few feet away. The moonlight reflected dully off dirty iron in several places surrounding the shape. He slowed his approach, wanting to stave off the answer to yet another horrible question. But he forced himself onward, and finally could not avoid what was obvious. It was Pam, quite dead. He saw her other running shoe. It did not glow in the moonlight. It was soaked in blood.
He could see what had happened to her. A wave of nausea swept over him. Then he turned numb. He didn't cry. He could only stare.
Seconds later, Keith heard footsteps approaching quickly from behind him. Running. He started to rise.
"NOOO!!" came an anguished yell, and before Keith could turn around, he was knocked violently off his feet and held to the ground. Fists hammered at his face and chest. He tried to throw off his attacker, but could not. Then he realized who it was.
"Mario! Stop! It's me, Keith!" he yelled.
"I know it's you, you bastard!" Mario cried. Mario didn't slow his attack.
Keith punched Mario hard in the chest, surprising him. Mario gasped, the wind momentarily knocked out of him. Taking advantage, Keith twisted beneath Mario and used the leverage to throw Mario away from him. Mario landed on his back a few feet away. Before he could recover, Keith leaped, pinning Mario to the ground. He used a standard wrestling maneuver; he wanted to immobilize Mario, not hurt him. Keith only wanted a chance to explain. Mario struggled against him, and knew he was pinned. His eyes went wide with panic, the same look he had whenever he was about to lose a wrestling match. He bellowed powerfully, as he did in matches just before turning the tables on the opponent. Keith had no hope of withstanding what was to come. Mario used his desperate energy in an attempt to throw Keith off of him.
But Keith didn't budge. Mario had finally been pinned.
"Get off me, dude! Get off me!" Mario ranted. "You're killing me! Get off of me." He went wild, twisting like a trapped, frightened animal, but still Keith held fast.
Keith ignored the incredible feat he had accomplished and stared right at Mario. "I'm not killing you. Now, calm down." His voice was strong and even. Something in Keith's gaze suddenly took the fight out of Mario. He froze. "I didn't do this. But I know who did. I know who killed all of them." Mario seemed too scared even to blink. "It was Mel," Keith declared.
Confusion finally overcame much of Mario's fear. "Mel? The poster guy?" Keith nodded, and Mario, seeing that he was telling the truth, stopped struggling. Keith loosened his grip on Mario and helped him stand.
"How do you know?" Mario asked guardedly.
"The guy's nuts," Keith told him. "He told me he was at the coffee shop the night of the fight. He heard the girls tell about their dreams. He didn't like Skrag. And he knew I was supposed to meet Sandra at the school last night."
"But why?" Mario said. He wasn't buying it.
"It's hard to explain," Keith told him. "But we have to get to the police station before he gets to you."
"What are you talking about, dude?" Mario was looking at him like he was crazy.
"Look, I'll tell you later. I've thought Mel's been behind this since this afternoon, but I didn't have proof. But these traps are the proof. They're his. I've seen them in his storage shed."
"You're sure?" Mario asked, his face a blank.
"Absolutely."
Mario's face lit up suddenly, full of hate. "Then let's get him," he growled.
"We should call the police, Mario," Keith pleaded.
"No," Mario told him. He hadn't moved from his spot. "Tell me where Mel lives." Mario's eyes had grown colder than Keith had ever seen. He was seeing Mario's demons now. They were no longer caged.
"We can't…"
Mario interrupted him. "You don't have to come. But he's mine first." Mario was serious. Deadly serious.
"Okay, but I'm going with you to make sure you don't do something really stupid." Keith wasn't sure he could do anything if Mario lost control, but he wanted to be around to try. Besides, he had seen Mario's face in the poster. He could not let Mario out of his sight until this was settled.
He led Mario to his car and drove them both across Springwood toward Mel's trailer park.
"Why did you come to the park, anyway?" Keith asked him. "I told you to stay with Carrie."
"You sounded weird on the phone. I mean crazy. Talking about me and Pam being in danger. You were scary, dude. You're still scaring me. I mean, how did you get mixed up with this weirdo, anyway?"
"It all has to do with that poster he sold me," Keith started to explain. Mario interrupted him.
"What is the deal with that poster? Carrie went home to hear your message for herself. According to her parents, you were ranting and raving."
"Yeah, well, I guess I was," Keith admitte
d. "I saw your face in it while I was on the phone with her machine."
"My face?"
Keith thought a moment about how to present this. "You're not gonna believe this, but I've been seeing faces in that poster. I saw Skrag, and then Sandra, before each of them was killed. Mel was supposed to be helping me figure out what was going on. Then something happened that made me think he was behind the killings after all."
Mario was baffled. "What happened to make you think that?"
"It doesn't matter," Keith told him. "I saw his traps. That's good enough."
"What did Pam ever do to him?" he said, his voice choking with emotion.
"I don't know," Keith replied softly. "All I know is that tonight I saw her face in the poster. And now she's dead. But that's not all of it."
"What else?" Mario asked.
"I saw yours in there, too. That's what I've been trying to tell you." His eyes met Mario's and they both fell silent. Mario looked away.
Instead of parking at the curb, Keith drove straight up to Mel's trailer. He parked the car facing the front door. The trailer's windows were dark. "He's not here," Keith said. "Let's go and call the police."
"Maybe he's hiding." Mario was determined not to leave. "Or if he's not home, we'll wait."
"C'mon," argued Keith, "who knows where he is and when he'll be back?"
"Doesn't matter. He killed Pam." Mario had made up his mind. They both moved to leave the car, but Mario motioned for Keith to stay. Keith didn't want to hang back, but Mario gave him no choice. So he waited, leaving the car running so he could listen to the radio.
Mario silently approached the trailer door and slowly turned the knob. The door was unlocked. Mario carefully opened the door just enough to peer into the trailer.
Stillness pervaded the trailer, completely. In the dim light that shone through the trailer windows, Mario could make out a living room area to his left. He saw the dark outlines of a couch and padded chair. Something twinkled in the chair: light reflecting off a wrist-watch. Worn by Mel.
Virtual Terror Page 10
