“What are you doing up there?” Robin asked.
“I thought I saw you two come over here. Took me a little while to find you.”
“Where were you?” Timmy asked. He started walking toward the coffin, with Robin in tow.
“Hiding.”
Timmy felt his good mood falter. “Hiding?”
“Yeah. From Eddie.”
Timmy remembered Eddie’s truck driving by, remembered it stopping for a little while and somebody getting out. Since he and Robin had been hiding, Timmy hadn’t been able to see what Eddie had been doing.
Looking for Peter?
Why?
“We’re on our way out,” said Timmy.
“Good,” Peter said. “This place gives me the creeps.”
“Hold on,” said Robin. She hurried over to the desk. Leaning over, she held back her hair and blew a shot of air into the lamp. The flame died. Darkness fell over them. A wide bar of gray light slashed through the window.
Robin hurried back to Timmy. He let her climb up the coffin first. When she was up there, Timmy climbed up.
Again, he let her go out first. Peter held her hands while she squirmed through the opening. Her kicking legs went out last. This time, Timmy kept his eyes away from between her legs.
Her hands reached through the window. He handed her the prybar. It made a metallic thump when she set it down. Her hands came back in. Grabbing them, he wormed through the tight space.
Cool air brushed his face when his head came out. It made the sweat feel cold on his skin. Robin let go of his hands, and Timmy crawled the rest of the way out. After his feet were clear of the window, Robin squatted and pulled it shut.
Lying on his side next to the stairs to the backdoor, Timmy tried to catch his breath. He looked for Peter, spotting him in a darkened corner between the two buildings. Shadows hid him down to his waist. The pants that showed in the moon’s pale light looked filthy. Thick stripes and splatters of stains covered his legs.
Timmy pushed himself up, and waited for Robin. She walked over to him, nodding. “The window seems like it’ll hold.”
“Good.”
Holding hands, they walked toward Peter. They stopped a few steps away from the shadows that smothered half of Peter’s body.
“Holding hands?” Peter asked.
Robin gave Timmy a bashful glance, smiling. “Things have changed recently,” she said.
“Sure looks like it,” said Peter. “Wow, Timmy-boy. Good job.”
Timmy rolled his eyes, shook his head. Reunited with Peter for a few minutes and his friend had already started busting his chops.
Then he remembered why they were reuniting.
“Why’re you hiding from Eddie?” Timmy asked.
“He’s after me. I barely got away.”
“Eddie?” Timmy repeated, just to be sure.
“Yes, Eddie. Told you he has the Weirdees.”
“What’d he do to you?” Robin asked.
“He got me. Tried to kill me.”
“What about Dorothy?” Robin asked. “Does he have her too?”
“Yeah, the sicko. You wouldn’t believe what he did to her. Made her do…stuff. You know? Stuff a kid shouldn’t be doing.”
“Oh, God,” said Robin, her voice thickening. “Crazy bastard.”
Timmy couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t that the shock had made his mind unable to accept what Peter said. The story seemed too impossible to comprehend. No way did this sound like the Eddie Gein Timmy knew. Sure, he was little odd, but it was a goofy kind of peculiarity, nothing ominous about him.
Most of the time, Timmy felt sorry for Eddie.
Then he remembered the head in Eddie’s kitchen, the shrunken head in his pocket. He patted his jacket and felt the hard lump of the shrunken head inside.
“If this is true,” Timmy said, finding it hard to speak.
“It’s true,” said Peter, a bit of force in his voice.
“Then we have to tell my dad.”
“He’s out with the search party,” said Robin.
“Search party?” Peter said.
“Yeah,” said Timmy. “Half the town’s out looking for you and Dorothy.”
“Really?” said Peter, sounding impressed. “Wow.”
It was like talking to a pair of legs with no upper body. Peter remained partly draped in darkness. Timmy wondered why he wouldn’t come any further.
“Maybe we should go back inside the funeral home,” said Robin. “Hide out there until morning.”
“What?” Timmy said. “Our parents’ll kill us.”
“Maybe. But Goult will be here in the morning, and we can tell him what happened.”
“Everything?” Timmy said.
“We have to. How else will we explain being in there when Peter found us?”
Made sense. But he knew once the shock of the situation had worn off, he would be in a lot of trouble.
Real nice, Timmy. Worry about yourself in a time like this.
Timmy was being selfish, and hated himself for it.
“We have to go now,” said Peter. “I can’t be here in the morning.”
“Why not?” Robin asked.
“Oh, uh…it’ll be too late by then. Eddie still has Dorothy.”
“We really have to find my dad,” said Timmy.
“There’s no time,” Peter said. “Hard telling what Eddie might do to her if he thinks I’m gone for good. I’ve read enough crime stories to know how these things go. In a panic, he might do something to her to keep her from talking.”
“Like what?” Robin asked. “You mean…?”
“I don’t know…kill her, probably.”
“God,” Robin said. She started to cry.
“What should we do?” Timmy asked.
“Go after Eddie,” said Peter.
“Are you crazy?” Timmy asked. “If Eddie really is a madman, then that’s the last thing we need to do.”
“What about Dorothy?” Robin asked. “Have you forgotten about her?”
“Of course not.”
“If she’s with Ed Gein,” Robin said, “then she’s not safe. It’s like Peter said, he’ll probably kill her. We have to save her.”
“We need help to do that,” Timmy said. He wanted to remind her that even though she was a couple years older, she, like Timmy and Peter, was still a kid. Eddie was an adult, and they needed adults’ help to stop him.
Stop him? You don’t really believe…
Why would Peter lie about this? Sure, Peter told some whoppers from time to time. But would he really make this up?
Timmy gave his friend a quick glance. Though he couldn’t see Peter’s eyes, he could feel them slithering across him like a snake’s tongue. Something wasn’t right about this whole situation.
“Timmy,” said Robin. “There’s no help out there right now. It’s just us. We’re the only help Dorothy’s going to get tonight.”
“Right,” said Peter.
“And if we wait until tomorrow, like I originally said, then it might be too late.”
“It will be,” said Peter. “Eddie’ll snap. He’ll go kill crazy.”
Timmy sighed. Though he felt like they were making a big mistake, he nodded. “Let’s go after Eddie,” he said.
“Thank you,” Robin said, leaning in. She gave him a soft kiss on the lips. She pulled away much too soon. “We’ll be all right.”
“Wow, a kiss too?” said Peter, stepping away from the corner of the building. The shadows slid off his shoulders, his head. His shirt was just as soiled as his pants, coated in what looked like motor oil. It had dried, turning to a heavy crust on the fabric. His face was overly pale, somehow thinner, and streaked in grime. His eyes looked overly bright on his dirty face. “A lot really has changed, huh?”
Timmy watched Robin work to keep the smile going. Peter’s appearance had sucked her emotions dry. “Told you so,” she said. Gone was the sweet braveness in her voice. Now she sounded how Timmy felt.
Like a frightened child.
“Follow me,” said Peter, grinning. “I know where Eddie was going.”
-30-
It stank worse inside the tavern than the death-rot inside the caskets after Ed had pried them open. Such heavy darkness filled the room that Ed could’ve been convinced he’d gone blind.
Walking slowly, the crossbow held at an angle before him, Ed’s hip bumped something hard. It made a scooting sound on the floor.
A chair.
Wanting to apologize to Bernice, Ed remained quiet. He didn’t want to make more unnecessary racket. He felt two quick tugs on the sleeve of his coat. The dark seemed to shift before him, and move away. He followed the movement, knowing it was Bernice. She wanted him to follow her.
Up ahead, a murky band stretched across a small section of the black. The bar, most likely. Above that, he recognized the mirror, though it looked like mucky water. They were moving toward the front of the tavern, taking small steps. But Bernice had already gotten quite a ways ahead of him.
Ed started to pick up his pace.
A scratching click came from his left, followed by a burst of light. Ed turned, squinting at the guttering flame. It moved through the darkness, thinning when it touched the end of what looked like a cigar. In the match’s orange spread, he recognized Mary’s face. Eyes closed, her lips were puckered around the cigar. Her heavy cheeks worked as she puffed the cigar to life. It looked as if she were lying atop the bar, on her side. He thought he saw her bare, thick legs bent below her waist, knees pointing at Ed.
The flame shook and died. When the absence of light returned, Ed saw quick flashes each time he blinked. The distorted, glowing dot of the cigar, brightened for a moment with the sound of a heavy breath. Pink streaks of Mary’s face appeared for a moment before vanishing when the cherry blot of the cigar dimmed.
“Hello, Eddie-baby,” he heard Mary say in that husky voice of hers.
The sweet odor of cigar smoke carried over to Ed. It made him want to fire up his pipe.
“Mary,” he said in a casual voice.
“It’s good to see you,” she said. “Been a while.”
“A couple days.”
“Too many, you ask me. Been busy digging, I suppose?”
“I have.”
“That’s a good boy.”
“What are you up to, Mary?”
“Been waiting on you,” she said. “Thought you might’ve come sooner, so I made sure I was ready. Was beginning to think you weren’t going to show.”
“Waiting on me?”
“Yeah. We know why you’re here, Eddie-baby.”
Ed felt a burst of ice around his heart. They knew he’d come with Bernice to kill the vampire.
“You found her and have come to tell the master,” Mary said.
Ed nearly groaned with relief. Mary obviously hadn’t seen Bernice, didn’t even know she was here. That was good. They still had surprise working in their favor.
“That’s right,” Ed said.
“But he already knows, and he’s very pleased. He wants you to join us, Eddie-baby. Not like them, Eddie, but like me. You and I will be together, protecting our masters during the day and ruling by their side at night. Plainfield will once again become theirs, its citizens will be our slaves.”
“I see.”
“Do you?” she asked. “I don’t think you really do.”
He heard her inhale, saw the burning nub of the cigar brighten for a moment. She let out a breath. “Aren’t you tired of being the laughingstock of Plainfield, Eddie-baby?”
“I’m not the...”
“You are, and you know it.” He heard the bar groan from Mary’s body shifting. “Now, have I ever ridiculed you, baby?”
“No.”
“And I never would, Eddie. We’re alike. We’re outsiders in our home town. Hasn’t it always felt as if you didn’t belong here?”
Ed supposed he’d always felt that way. “Well, yeah.”
“Me too. But I stayed. And it was so easy for me to rob these goody two-shoes of their devoted husbands. Didn’t take much. Just let them have me and do what they wished. They even paid me to ruin their good marriages. And now, we can do that together. It starts tonight with the full moon. The master will awaken his bride, and their time will be again. Plainfield, as we know it, will be no more. And Eddie-baby? We’ll get to be a part of it; we’ll be gods in this drab shithole. Together.”
He heard soft squeaking sounds. The kind naked skin might make sliding across wood. Two heavy thuds followed that Ed thought were Mary’s feet hitting the floor. The glowing tip of the cigar moved from high to low.
“No more laughing at you behind your back,” she said. There were scratchy noises, like footsteps on a dusty floor, moving closer. “No more making you feel stupid. Worthless. You’ll be above them, for once in your life, Eddie. Nobody will ever tease you again.”
She’s coming over here.
Where was Bernice?
Ed looked around, but could only see darkness. She was hidden among it somewhere, but Ed had no clue as to where.
And if Mary had any idea Bernice was with him, she gave no indication.
“Now, do you see?” Mary asked. “Or would you like to feel?”
The red tip of the cigar seemed dimmer as if it were covered by a wispy cap. Ed heard a tapping sound. The wrapper of ash dropped off. The glow was much brighter in front of Ed.
“Here I am,” Mary said.
Ed gulped. “Yep.” He quietly moved the crossbow to his left hand, slipping his finger over the trigger.
Mary chuckled softly. “Feel me,” she said, “for the first time. You will be able to feel me forever.”
“Mary,” started Ed, but he stopped when he felt fingers curl around the wrist of his right hand, raising it.
“Take this glove off, baby,” Mary said.
The glove was pulled from his hand. He winced as it dragged across his busted blisters. The glove smacked the floor a moment later.
Mary’s fingers glided across the bandages fastened around his. “Aw, baby,” she said. “Your hand’s hurt.”
“Yeah,” Ed said in a groggy voice.
“From digging so much?”
“Yeah.”
He felt the soft pecks of her lips start at the tip of his finger and move down to his wrist. When she stopped, she said, “Better?”
“It helps,” he said.
Mary laughed. “I want you to feel me with your skin.”
His hand was pulled slowly forward. It touched a mound of flesh that felt springy, yet soft. It sunk under his fingers.
Mary released a shuddery sigh. “There you go.”
Something hard pressed the palm of his hand as his fingers squeezed.
It’s her damn tit!
He’d never felt anything like it. Kneading the plump softness, he enjoyed how it seemed to bobble in his hand. The skin of Mary’s tit became slick and warm as Ed played with it.
Fingers gently grabbed his wrist again.
“Now this,” said Mary in a scratchy voice. She sounded winded.
Ed’s arm was lowered. His finger ran down the jiggly firmness of her stomach, dipped into her navel, and moved through a tuft of fuzzy hair. Ed knew what he was touching and felt himself tremble. His lungs felt too big for his chest, making his breaths turn squeaky.
“It’s okay, Eddie,” said Mary. “Don’t be nervous. Go on…”
She released his wrist, leaving his finger nestled in the bristly hair.
She wants me to stick my finger in her.
“I know you want to,” she said, voice quivering. “If you do it, I’ll know you’re one of us.”
Mary shook against his finger when he moved it down a fraction. The tip hovered above the edge of her pubic mound, gently tapping the moist cleft. Any lower he would be inside.
Bernice!
Bernice was probably watching this vulgar display transpire. Unless something had happened to her. He didn’t think she’d been ha
rmed, but he couldn’t know for sure. But if she was fine, why hadn’t she come forward and put a stop to it? Hopefully she hadn’t been able to see everything. Maybe Mary’s bulk blocked her from seeing much, or the dark was too much for her to decipher what Ed had done.
And what he was about to do.
Ed’s finger slipped lower, dipping into a fleshy fold of wet heat.
Moaning, Mary slapped a hand down on Ed’s shoulder. Her hand gripped his coat to hold on.
Ed moved his finger around the sopping softness, delving deeper.
Mary made cooing sounds as she shook. “Oh, Eddie…baby, do it.”
He moved his finger in as far as it would go. His knuckle bumped the dripping walls of her sex.
“That’s it, Eddie,” gasped Mary.
“Yeah,” said Ed.
Her hand moved down his chest. He felt her fingers move over something hard and round. Something rustled like thin paper.
“Wha...?” said Mary. “Is this…?”
He felt her grab something on his chest, lift it. She sniffed, then gagged. “This is...garlic?” Yanking the foul-smelling necklace, the string snapped at the back of his neck. He heard it rustle when she threw it. Somewhere in the room, it banged when it landed.
He’d forgotten all about the garlic wreath. How had she not noticed it sooner? How had he stopped smelling it?
“You bastard!”
Before Ed could say anything, Mary punched the blazing end of the cigar against his neck. Intense heat made sizzling sounds on his skin. As Ed screamed, Mary twisted the cigar, grinding the hot pain deeper into his neck.
Ed’s other hand flew up. He meant to push her off, but his arm bumped hers, which caused his finger to yank the trigger of the crossbow.
There was a sound like a knife being stabbed into raw beef.
Mary stumbled away from Ed. His finger slid out of her.
He heard a faint click somewhere in the dark. Light exploded in the room.
Blinded, Ed stumbled back. His ass knocked against a table, tipping it over. The wooden legs shot up, striking the backs of his legs and throwing them into the air. Ed’s back crashed through the wood, pounded the concrete floor. The crossbow bounced away from his hand.
Winded and hurt, Ed’s head bobbed as he peered down his body. Between his legs sprawled on broken shards of the table, he saw Mary’s beefy, naked thighs. Crooked ribbons of blood flowed down their pale shapes. His eyes followed the dark streams up to the jutting tip in her throat. The stake had entered slightly under her chin. Her hands slapped at the hunk of wood as blood coated her fingers. When her mouth opened on a quacking gasp, he saw wood had pushed her tongue aside on its way up.
The Vampire of Plainfield Page 23
