Blood Fugue (25 page)

Kerrigan shook his head.

‘You need to be with Maria and Luis. They’ll have a better chance of making it back to your car if you stay together.’

Jimenez pondered the choice and Kerrigan could see it was a hard one to make.

‘I’m trusting you with my daughter’s life, Mr Kerrigan. You have to bring her back to us.’

To Kerrigan, it was a simple matter. He would give his life if necessary. It was his duty.

‘I promise you I will do everything I can to return her safely,’ he said. ‘Anything.’

Jimenez nodded.

‘You should hurry,’ Kerrigan said. ‘If you run you’ll catch up to them soon. They need you.’

‘Can you tell me what is happening here?’

Kerrigan didn’t have to think too hard.

‘War.’

‘When we get back to the town, should we call for help?’ asked Jimenez.

‘There’s no one you can call. Just wait for me to bring Carla back and then drive away. Here, take these with you.’ He handed Jimenez a few binders for throwing. ‘Do you still have the binder on the necklace?’

‘I never took it off.’

‘Make sure it’s visible.’ Kerrigan reached out, pulled the leather thong up from under the man’s collar and dropped the binder out onto his chest. ‘Did you find your grandfather’s last resting place?’

‘No. There is no sign.’

‘I’m sorry you had a wasted journey.’ Kerrigan placed his hand on Jimenez’s shoulder. ‘Go,’ he said. ‘And don’t stay in the Clearing when you get there. Wait for me in my cabin.’

When Jimenez was out of sight, Kerrigan stepped back into the arbour. Amy and the tree were motionless, as though they were sleeping. He began to search for signs of Carla.

When it came time to pair up, no one wanted to partner Randall Moore. It was only then that he regretted being so outspoken with Sheriff Powell. He ended up with a bookish man called Ricky Flowers who looked seventeen but was probably thirty-five; one of those people that never seem to develop beyond adolescence. He was a lanky man with a prominent Adam’s apple; looked like he’d tried to swallow a child’s building block and never finished the job. Judging from his emaciated frame, the man hadn’t eaten anything else since, owing to the blockage. The orange hunter’s jacket swamped the man’s shoulders and hung down like it was draped over a wire hanger.

Randall cursed his big mouth.

Still, he reasoned, at least he’d have no problems keeping the guy in line. They’d been given a section of the Eastern Path to search and some of the woods to the south side. Neither of them knew the terrain well. Randall hadn’t been out hiking in the woods for twenty years and Flowers, a computer nerd from what Randall could make out, never went outside unless he was in a car.

Randall watched as Flowers took long gangly strides along the trail, looking up at the trees or biting his fingernails but never actually looking for anything on the ground.

‘Where are you going in such a hurry?’ asked Randall. ‘This is meant to be a search, understand? You got to look for things.’

‘It’s nice out here,’ said Flowers, stopping to acknowledge Randall’s admonitions before walking on just as fast. ‘Everything seems . . . fresh.’

‘Yeah, but we’re trying to find some missing kids. You can’t just stroll off.’

‘Can you smell that? That’s real pine.’ Flowers stepped over to a tree and swiped a few needles from it. He walked back and held them under Randall’s nose.

‘I can smell it already, Mister Flowers. Okay if I call you that? We need to concentrate on the matter in hand here, you get me?’

‘You can call me Ricky or Flowers. Whatever.’ Suddenly Flowers froze and then pointed, ‘Hey, what’s that?’

Randall turned with his hand already reaching for his pistol. All he saw was a reddish blur and a movement in the higher branches of a pine.

‘That, Flowers, is a squirrel. Can we focus here, please?’ Randall’s heart was pounding a little. ‘Do you even understand what we’re doing?’

‘Sure. We’re looking for two boys and a girl.’

‘You think we’re gonna see ’em up in the trees?’

Flowers’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. It looked painful.

‘I guess not,’ he said.

‘You got to help me out, Flowers. We’re meant to be a team, okay?’

‘Okay.’

‘So let’s be the ones to find these kids and then everyone can go home. What do you say?’

Flowers nodded.

‘All right, I’m gonna lead the way and you do what I do, got it?’

‘No problem.’

Randall moved forward taking slow steps, scanning the ground for signs of disturbance and casting wide glances into the woods on their right from time to time. He exaggerated the movements to try and set an example for the keyboard-tapper behind him. After a while he looked back to see how Flowers was doing and saw him staring up at the treetops again. Randall sighed and kept walking.

Randall stopped to take a leak about a half hour later and it was while he relieved himself that his teammate made an important discovery.

‘Hey, Mister Moore. I think I found something here. Look.’

He glanced over his shoulder expecting Flowers to be pointing at a bird or a rock and was shocked when he saw the guy holding up what looked like a black tee shirt.

‘There’s more stuff over there,’ said Flowers, pointing.

Randall finished his piss and walked over to investigate. He found a bra. Further along the path he could see a pair of jeans and some black boots. He couldn’t believe it was Flowers who’d spotted it. If he’d waited another minute or two to take a leak, he’d have found the clothes first.

‘You think this is that girl’s stuff?’ asked Flowers.

Randall nodded, saying nothing. Flowers walked further along to the boots and then picked up a pair of white underwear. He held them to his face and inhaled.

‘God damn it, Flowers. You put those down.’

Randall marched over and slapped the underwear from the skinny guy’s hand.

‘What are you? Some kind of fucking pervert? You want to explain to Sheriff Powell why you were touching the evidence?’

Flowers shook his head.

‘Don’t touch anything. Nothing, understand?’

‘Okay, okay.’

Randall pulled out his radio.

Chapter 28

‘Sheriff Powell, this is Randall Moore, we’ve got something out here.’

There were a few moments of silence and then the radio crackled and spat Powell’s response.

‘Copy that, Randall. Where are you?’

‘About a mile and a half east of the Clearing.’

‘Stay put until we get there.’

‘Will do, Sheriff. Out.’

Randall stared at the strewn clothes and wondered what they might mean for the girl who’d worn them. Was she dead? Raped? Just crazy?

‘You know, Flowers,’ he said. ‘I think we should go a little further along here and see if we can find her. Maybe she’s hurt.’

‘Uh, I don’t think so, Mister Moore. We’re meant to stay with this stuff until the sheriff gets here.’

‘Shit, boy. When did you ever listen to instructions? You coming or not?’

Flowers looked down at the clothes, particularly the underwear, as if he wanted nothing more than to be left alone with them for a little while. That settled the matter for Randall.

‘You’re coming with me. Let’s go.’

‘Wait, one of us should make sure this stuff is safe.’

‘It’ll be safer without you, panty boy. Come on.’

Randall had to physically push Flowers away from the discarded clothing and get him started up the trail. Even then Flowers kept looking back. Randall shoved him along without pretending to be nice about it.

‘Keep your eyes open, Flowers. We’re looking for a naked girl.’

After that the guy started to concentrate like he was in an exam.

Randall checked his watch. It would take the sheriff at least a half-hour to arrive. He figured they’d walk for ten minutes and then turn back if they hadn’t found anything. He was checking his pistol for the third time that morning when he bumped into Flower’s back. He was about to give the guy another mouthful when he saw why Flowers had stopped in his tracks. In the path about fifty yards ahead of them was the girl they were looking for. He recognised her from the photos they’d been given. Even from this distance she was more striking than her picture had suggested. For a start she was as naked as he’d predicted.

The effect of this on Flowers would have been amusing if Randall hadn’t been so similarly affected himself. He was standing, staring, with the pistol still in his hands, mesmerised by the naturalness of her marble-pale skin against the greens and browns of the trail and the forest beyond. She stood with her feet apart in a posture of strength and confidence, her hands on her hips and her head tilted a little as if waiting or inquiring.

She was so achingly seductive that he was developing a rare erection.

Flowers was the first to move but he lifted his feet like a diver in a weighted suit. Randall watched as the sapling of a man set off to help Gina Priestly. His orange hunting jacket flapped a little in the breeze and Randall saw the bumps under the orange day-glo where the guy’s shoulder bones poked upward.

He tried to shout to Flowers to tell him to hold on a second but his throat was so dry it was stuck shut. When he tried to move his legs he had to look down to make sure he hadn’t sunk into quick mud. His feet wouldn’t do what he wanted them to do; it was like trying to walk through treacle. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t catch up.

The girl stretched her arms out to them. Her palms were held upward and her hands beckoned. Randall was a little closer now and with every slow pace he could see her shape more clearly, the curve at her waist, the strongly muscled legs and shoulders, her dark pubic triangle, the grave appeal of her breasts. Her black hair contrasted her skin so totally, she looked like an actress that had stepped from the reels of a silent movie.

Flowers, looking like a hopeless sinner, fell to his knees in front of her and pressed his angular cheek against the smooth curve of her abdomen. She enfolded his head in her arms and Randall imagined the guy inhaling the scent from her cool white skin. The girl stroked Flowers’s hair with great tenderness whilst Randall Moore was still thirty yards away and struggling to make his muscles work. She had a look of such loving tenderness on her face as she looked down that Randall was overcome with a rush of animal jealousy.

He reached for his pistol.

Flowers’s demeanour changed from that of a man who had found salvation to that of a bear that had found honey. He turned his face towards her belly and began to kiss her below the navel. Randall wanted to tear the guy away from her and smash his face with the butt of his pistol but he was too far away. The air around him had grown thick. His breathing became laboured. He could hear nothing through the cloying atmosphere except the sound of Flowers’s tongue licking and rasping against Gina’s black, course curls. It was impossible the sound could be so loud, but Randall could hear nothing else.

Balancing perfectly, Gina wrapped one leg behind Flowers’ head and drew him closer. The movement separated her legs, giving his tongue easier access to her crotch. She tightened her grip on his head and Randall saw him react by trying to pull away a little. Her skin shimmered giving off flashes of purple. Dark vessels pulsated beneath the surface. A tube-like tongue spilled from her mouth and snaked down towards Flowers. Everything about what was happening made Randall’s erection harder.

Then he saw the tongue, as if it had its own life independent of the girl, wrap around Flowers’s neck and burrow through the skin of his throat. Something about the sight shocked him so deeply that for a moment he regained some control over himself. Randall was only ten paces from them by then and had no idea how he’d covered the distance. Soon she’d be able to reach out to him.

He raised the pistol and she looked up from her prey. Too physically committed to Flowers in that moment, there was nothing she could do but snarl. Randall didn’t want to kill her. He didn’t even want to hurt her. He had in his mind only the memory of her pale skin and dark hair perfectly placed against the background of the woods. He didn’t want to destroy that image. He didn’t want to damage her in any way. But she was killing Flowers, and Randall knew that if he didn’t do something it would be him next.

He aimed for her foot and pulled the trigger. The earth blew open in a small dark circle beside her foot. He’d missed, but the sound of gunfire had scared her and served to startle both Flowers and himself further out of their trances.

Flowers tried to scream but Gina yanked him harder into her crotch. The stifled screaming continued making Randall giggle at the ridiculous sound. But Gina didn’t let go.

She began to plasticise in front of him. Her head stretched outwards and forwards and she grew taller. The purpleness of her skin deepened and the veins that had merely flashed beneath the surface before now bulged with diseased plasma. From her mutating skin, hollow spikes tore forth. The ones that grew from her thighs and calves entered Flowers’s body, wounding him and causing his muffled screams to intensify. Other tongues sprouted like vines from her belly and under her arms and flailed towards Randall who took a step backwards. As she rose up, she unhooked her leg from around Flowers’s neck and the barbs on her calf ripped open the skin of his shoulder. One punctured his ear, tearing through the soft cartilage and still another caught beneath the bone of his shoulder blade, pulling him over onto the ground while the tongue buried in his neck continued to feed on him.