The leering quality seeped out of Gil’s expression. In its place was more of the gratifying fear Pete had glimpsed before. Only now it was a deeper, intensified fear. It was pure terror, and it was a beautiful thing to see. Pete’s heart felt as if it were going a million miles per hour. He had never been a violent man. Had only been in a handful of minor scuffles in his youth. Nothing serious. But now he felt ready to do violence. More than that. He
wanted
to do violence. He wanted to cause pain, and a lot of it. And he knew Gil could see that. It was evident in his expression, which had become the hollow and haunted look of a doomed man.
Gil’s shoulders sagged.
The fight had gone out of him.
He turned away from them and climbed onto the metal table with weary resignation. Until that moment
Pete had not known the reason for Gil’s defiance, but now he understood. The table creaked beneath his bulk, but it was sturdy and did not bend. The big man sprawled flat on his back and stared up at the dirty ceiling. Silent tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. Pete felt no pity. Instead, excitement built within him as Justine set the McCulloch on the floor and approached the table. She stretched his arms and legs to the corners and wrapped the hook-mounted leather straps around his ankles and arms, cinching them off in tight knots.
She retrieved the chain saw from the floor and approached the table.
Ma Preston wailed. “Don’t hurt my baby! Please…oh, please…”
Pete let go of her hair and slammed the butt of the revolver against the crown of her skull. She toppled and her knees loudly smacked the floor tiles. Justine glanced back at him, an implied question conveyed in the set of her eyes.
Pete said,“Hold on. Don’t do it yet.”
He walked over to the kitchen counter and set the gun down. He pulled a large carving knife from a wooden block and returned to where Ma sat sobbing on the floor. He pushed her face down to the floor and pinned her there with a knee to the small of her back. Then he wound a hand in her hair and pulled her head back.
Gil flailed uselessly against his bonds.
“What are you doing to my mama?”
Pete’s laughter was harsh and ugly. “I’m scalping her, Gil.”
He put the sharp side of the blade against her forehead just below the hairline and began to saw. Blood erupted from the gash and spread in a red flood across the white floor. She thrashed beneath him, but was too weak to dislodge him. He was bigger and stronger than she was
anyway, but the large amount of alcohol still flowing through her system probably wasn’t helping her any. Nor was the blood loss she’d already sustained from the wound to her shoulder. But she still had enough strength to thrash and cry. She was crying and Pete was laughing and Gil was screaming and Justine was giggling like a schoolgirl, and it was all wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. He sawed and sawed, working the blade back and forth across her forehead as he tugged at her hair with his other hand. The skin began to peel away in front, and he worked the blade up inside the widening gash, cutting and sawing as the blood continued to flow. The skin peeled away from the top of her head, and he severed the scalp with a few last vicious slashes of the knife. Then he stood and held the bloody, dripping scalp aloft. He felt like a primitive. Like a caveman. A barbarian on an ancient battlefield. He looked down and saw the bloody dome atop Ma’s head and laughed again.
He felt glorious.
Gil stopped screaming and started crying nonstop.
Pete walked over to the table and stared down at Gil’s shiny, blubbery face. “I’ve been thinking you need a makeover, Gil. Your whole look screams ‘repressed backwoods cracker.’ Well, I’m here to liberate you from that, motherfucker.” He pried the ball cap off the man’s head and tossed it aside. “We’ll start with the hair and move on from there to some anesthesia-free liposuction. How’s that sound, Gil?”
He pressed Ma Preston’s bloody scalp against the top of Gil’s head and worked to fit the dead flesh around the shape of his skull. He straightened the gray hair with his bloody fingers so that it brushed Gil’s shoulders. Then he stepped back and clapped his hands in mock approval. “There! Ever so much better. Wouldn’t you agree, Justine?”
Justine arched a brow.“And you called me a psycho.”
Pete picked up the chain saw. “You mind if I take care of this?”
Justine smiled and shook her head. “Be my guest. I’ll have some fun with Ma. She’s still with us, believe it or not.”
Pete glanced at the scalped woman. She was still on the floor and clearly not about to move, but she was alive. Her eyes were open and staring at him. There was nothing but hate in those eyes. Pete welcomed the hate. Reveled in it. There was nothing she or anyone could do to him now or ever again.
He looked at Justine and said, “Make it last as long as you can.”
Justine smiled again.“Of course.”
Pete started the chain saw and approached the table. Gil’s terrified gaze was glued to the spinning blade. He was saying something, his lips moving rapidly. Pete realized he didn’t need to hear it. It was a prayer for forgiveness and mercy. Well, maybe God would have some mercy for this piece of shit.
But he would not.
He lowered the blade and let it bite through the man’s overalls and then into his belly. Gil’s screams then were audible over the whine of the chain saw as he bucked on the table. All his struggles accomplished was to sink the blade deeper into his body. Blood and slimy bits of viscera spewed from the hole in Gil’s belly and sprayed Pete’s face and the surrounding walls. The blade chewed and chugged and spat flesh. Pete looked at the man’s face and saw features twisted with agony. But he remembered Justine’s story of her boyfriend’s murder and felt not an ounce of compassion. The dirty deed had probably been committed on this very table.
He pulled the chain-saw blade out of Gil’s belly and
shifted his position to aim the whirring blade at the man’s crotch. He grinned.“Come on, Gil. You had to see this one coming.”
He sniffed the air and smelled something burning as the blade messily castrated Gil Preston. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Justine had something frying in a pan on the stove. He frowned and glanced down at Ma Preston. The frown became a smile. Justine had cut a big strip of flesh from her thigh. The woman was unconscious, but he could see she was still shallowly breathing. Justine used a spatula to flip something over in the pan. He caught a glimpse of tattooed flesh turning brown.
And he laughed again.
Cannibalism. Why not?
It made a twisted kind of perfect sense to eat the cannibals.
He shifted his attention back to Gil and resumed his act of butchery.
It went on for a long time.
They had been walking in silence through the dark woods for a while. Abby led the way. She knew the woods well and negotiated them with ease even in the scant moonlight filtering through the treetops. Michelle stumbled on several occasions and clutched at Abby’s arm to keep from falling, but mostly she kept her distance. Abby guessed it was because she’d spent so much time chained up. Who wouldn’t be reluctant to surrender newly regained independence after something like that?
Michelle stumbled yet another time and clutched at her shoulder again. This time she didn’t let go right away. “Fuck! Why you people would choose to live out in the fucking wild is a total mystery to me. I get enough exposure to nature watching fucking Animal Planet.”
Abby didn’t know what Animal Planet was, but didn’t say anything lest she come across as even more unworldly than she already seemed. She groped for the other woman’s clutching hand, found it, and laced fingers with her. “Here. Just hold on. Don’t want ya fallin’ and breakin’ your neck.”
Michelle tensed, but she didn’t try to pull away this time.“Yeah, that’d fucking suck after getting out of that dungeon. We almost there yet?”
Abby squeezed her hand. It was nice to be touching her again.“Almost.”
They continued in silence a while longer until Michelle said,“Abby?”
“Yes?”
Michelle looked at her. Her eyes twinkled in the moonlight as they moved through a break in the tree cover. She pursed her lips. They looked lush and inviting. Abby remembered how hot and sweet they’d felt on her mouth. She held her breath, hoping Michelle was about to kiss her again.
But she didn’t. “That stuff you told me about the holiday. The annual offerings to ward off the Garner Blight. Were your people really planning to…cook and…eat…me?”
Abby’s nose wrinkled. She didn’t want to talk about this. As far as she was concerned, it was part of her past now, something she was leaving behind forever. But she couldn’t just ignore Michelle’s question. She looked at her and said,“Yes.”
Michelle frowned and stopped in the patch of
moonlight. “And this is something that happens every year?”
Abby stopped with her and turned toward her.“Every summer. Yes.”
“And you’ve participated? You’ve…eaten people? Outsiders?”
Abby looked away from her.“It’s the way of things here. We’re raised in it. I never knew no better. But now…”She looked at Michelle and her eyes were bright with tears. “Now I know it was wrong.”
Michelle’s expression was blank. “You’ve seen the light.”
Abby swallowed.“Yeah. Somethin’ like that. Thanks to you.”
Michelle stared at her for a long, silent interval. Then a small smile tilted the corners of her mouth. She squeezed Abby’s hand. “I know this is a brave thing you’re doing, Abby. I really do.” She leaned in quick and kissed Abby lightly on the mouth. “You’ve been waiting for that, haven’t you?”
Abby felt her face flush in the darkness.“Yes.”
Abby leaned in for another kiss, but Michelle let go of her hand and pulled away from her.“There’ll be time for that later, Abby. How far are we from the Colliers’?”
Abby put a lid on her frustration and took a quick look around to get her bearings. In a moment she smiled and looked at Michelle.“Hell, we’re practically there.”
She turned away from her and strode quickly out of the patch of moonlight into a deep darkness. Michelle let out a startled cry and hurried after her. Abby smiled at the sound of distress.
That’s what you get for teasing me.
Michelle caught up to her and clutched at her arm as they moved through a thicker grouping of trees. This time she didn’t let go until they moved out of the darkness to stand at the edge of the clearing where the Colliers’ cabin stood.
The Collier place was smaller by half than the main Maynard cabin and was several times more advanced in its decrepitude. The scrubby yard surrounding the cabin was littered with junk. There were tires and rusted pieces of old cars. The Plymouth Abby had told Michelle about was parked alongside the front porch. It looked intact. A small shack stood near the cabin. Once upon a time the shack had functioned as a primitive barn. There was a feeding trough near it, but any livestock once owned by the Colliers was long gone.
Abby nodded at the shack.“She’ll be in there. Colliers always keep their holiday catches in that thing.”
Michelle’s eyes gleamed with surprised delight. “Shit, this’ll be easy. They’ll never even know we were here. Let’s go get her.”
“Not yet.”
Michelle glared at her.“And why in fuck not?”
“Because we still need the key to that car. For that I’ll have to go inside. We’ll get your friend after I have the key. Do it beforehand and there’s too much chance someone’ll happen along before I can get back. And if that happens…”
Michelle’s expression sobered again.“We’ll be fucked.”
“Yep.”
Michelle groaned. “All right. Whatever. But please try to be quick about it. The notion of being alone out here in the dark spooks the shit out of me.”
Abby smiled and turned toward her, brushing her cheek with the back of a hand. “I’ll be fast, don’t worry. And you’ll be fine. Just hang back in the trees until I get back.”
Michelle wrapped a hand around Abby’s wrist and kissed the back of her hand. “Hold on. Take this.” With her other hand she extracted the sheathed hunting knife from her waistband.“You might need it in there.”
Abby looked at her father’s old knife and shook her head.“Keep it. I ain’t gonna need it.”
Michelle cocked an eyebrow.“You sure?”
“Yeah. Hell, this’ll be the easy part.” She kissed Michelle on the mouth again, and this time she was heartened by the way the woman’s lips lingered on hers before withdrawing. Abby grinned. “Now get back in them trees.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Michelle retreated to the cover of the trees. Abby watched her disappear and then turned back toward the cabin. She started walking. She wasn’t afraid. At this point she had nothing to fear from the Colliers. About that much she’d been honest. The thing she wasn’t sure about was Michelle’s friend. There was a good chance she was in the shack, but it was no sure thing by any means. Last year’s holiday was proof enough of that. They’d had nothing to offer, having slaughtered their one catch early during a financial pinch. Human meat kept a family’s bellies full as well as any other kind. And Abby knew for a fact Michelle’s friend had been their only catch this year. She doubted the Colliers would risk universal scorn from their neighbors by showing up empty-handed to the feast a second year running. But they might.
Some of her doubt began to abate as she neared the cabin, though. There were lights on in the main room, and it was the steady glow of electric light rather than the flickering glow cast by lanterns. So the generator in their basement was running. That had to mean the Collier clan was a bit more prosperous this year. Which was good. It increased the odds of Michelle’s friend being alive considerably. There was still a chance they’d butchered her a day early. The day before the holiday—tomorrow—was the traditional preparation day. Some folks jumped the gun so they wouldn’t be rushed. But
Abby was hoping they would want to do everything the right way this year after last year’s disappointment.
She climbed the creaky steps to the porch and paused at the half-open front door. Low, scratchy music was audible through the opening. That would be the phonograph in the front room. Abby couldn’t identify the music, except that it sounded like some crooner from the fifties or sixties. She pushed the door open and stepped inside. Keith Jenkins and Lorelei Collier were stretched out across a grubby old sofa, with Lorelei on top and their limbs entwined. Keith was a brawny but unattractive town boy who frequently came sniffing around old-family females. Abby had fucked him once, mostly out of a lack of anything else to do at the time, but there’d been some pity involved, too. She was thankful to find them still clothed. There were empty beer bottles on the floor in front of the sofa. One lay on its side. They were more than halfway in the bag already. Abby raised a hand and knocked on the open door.“Hello? Sorry to interrupt.”
Lorelei’s head turned toward her. She smiled. “Hey, Abby. What’s up?”
Abby shrugged.“Not much. Was hopin’ I could borrow your car. I wanna go to town for some beer.”
Lorelei’s shoulders went up and down.“Daddy’d throw a fit, but he took off to the Sin Den with your ma. Don’t matter to me none. Just bring us back some beer, too. Key’s in the usual place.”
Abby smiled.“Thanks.”
She went into the kitchen and found the key to the Plymouth on a hook. Muffled giggling emanated from the living room. Abby knew they were laughing at her. They all laughed at her these days. But this time it didn’t bother her as much. She was about to be done with these people forever. Let them laugh. She returned to the front room and continued quickly to the open door, glancing
over her shoulder long enough to say,“I’ll be back in no time with that beer.”
Keith Jenkins leered at her.“You can suck me off when you get back. I paid for the gas in that old wreck.”
Lorelei slapped his chest.“Keith Jenkins!”
Keith cackled. “You can watch. Hell, we’ll have a threesome.”
Lorelei looked at Abby and waggled her eyebrows. “Shit, sounds good to me. And I’ve heard talk Abby ain’t afraid to eat pussy. She can go down on me after she sucks you off. What do you say, girl? That a fair price for the use of my car?”
Abby paused at the door and blinked slowly at them. There was still some of that mocking quality in their voices, but beneath that she sensed they were serious. And under other circumstances it would have been an irresistible proposition. Lorelei was slender and shapely. She was no Michelle, but she wasn’t half-bad. So it wasn’t hard to fake enthusiasm. “Hell, I’m up for anything tonight. We’ll get drunk and screw all night. Back soon.”
She slipped outside before they could reply and pulled the door shut. Michelle came running out of the woods the moment she was outside again. She looked about to say something, but Abby hurried down the steps to the ground and slapped a hand over her mouth. She leaned close and whispered,“Keep your mouth shut. This way.”
She grabbed Michelle by an arm and steered her toward the little shack. When they reached the decaying structure, Abby put a shushing finger to her lips and made Michelle stand aside as she slid the wooden latch back and pulled the creaking door open. A sour smell stung her eyes. Abby tensed for a moment, thinking maybe it was a corpse smell. But moonlight filtered in and revealed the form of a very plump, nude woman tied by a length of fraying rope to the joist overhead. The rope creaked as she
turned toward them. The woman’s eyes widened as she glimpsed Michelle, and she squealed behind the dirty gag in her mouth. Abby experienced a curious mix of relief and disappointment at finding the woman alive. She didn’t want to share Michelle with anyone, a feeling intensified by the knowledge that these women already shared such a deep and long-established bond. She was sure theirs wasn’t a sexual relationship, but that didn’t change how she felt. This Lisa person would command much of Michelle’s attention for some time, at least until they were safely beyond Hopkins Bend.
Michelle choked back a sob. “Oh, God, look what they’ve done to you.”
Lisa’s torso was covered in bruises and welts. Abby figured the Collier kids had beaten her for the same reason she’d often abused outsiders. Boredom. A broken broom handle lay at Lisa’s feet. The rounded end was noticeably darker than the rest. It had probably been inside the woman on more than one occasion. Abby glanced at Michelle’s horrified expression and knew she’d drawn the same conclusion. Her bottom lip trembled, and she wiped tears away as she stared at her friend.
Then her face turned stony.“Someone’s gonna pay, my sweet friend. I promise you.”
Michelle moved deeper into the shack and found a wooden crate. She set it on the ground next to Lisa and climbed atop it. The rotting wood creaked and splintered beneath her weight but didn’t break. Abby held her breath as she watched Michelle shift atop the crate and again remove the hunting knife from her waistband. She pulled the knife from the sheath and began to saw at the rope. The rope was old and fraying and gave way to the sharp blade within moments. Lisa dropped to her knees and Michelle hopped off the crate. She knelt next to Lisa and made similar short work of the bonds around her wrists.
Lisa sucked in a deep, wheezing breath and loudly exhaled. Her next several breaths were rapid, almost frantic pants.“Oh, God…I can’t believe it.” She looked at Michelle through tear-laden eyes. “You came for me. It’s…it’s a miracle.”
Michelle touched her friend’s face. “You can thank her.” She nodded at Abby.“She’s the reason we’re getting out of here alive.”
Lisa glanced at Abby and frowned. “Isn’t she…one of them?”
Michelle looked at Abby. She smiled. “She was. But she’s helping us now. You can trust her.”
Lisa still looked doubtful,but she nodded slowly.“Okay.” Her voice cracked a little.“Can we p-please go?”
“Damn straight we can.”
Michelle stood and helped Lisa to her feet. Abby felt her lips curl as she watched the girl’s belly jiggle. But she made the expression vanish as the other women turned toward her. “Here.” She took a step toward them and pressed the Plymouth’s key into Michelle’s hand. “You drive. I’ll navigate.”
Michelle glanced at the key and frowned. “Shouldn’t you drive? You’re the one knows this place inside and out.”
“Yeah, but I ain’t so good at drivin’.” Her tone became sheepish as she admitted the next bit.“I don’t even have a license. Never have. So you drive and I’ll give directions. It’ll work better that way. You’ll see.”
“Whatever.” Michelle looked at Lisa again. Her brow creased.“Hey, are your clothes in here somewhere?”
Lisa shook her head. “They burned them. Let’s not worry about my fucking modesty and just get on out of here.”
Abby heard a crunch of footsteps outside. Her heart nearly stopped at the sound. She held a finger up to
her lips and retreated hurriedly from the shack’s dark interior, pulling the door partway shut behind her. She turned and plastered a smile on her face. Keith Jenkins was coming toward her, a cocky grin twisting his already unlovely features.