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Sandy hardly had time to scream when a vile-reeking hand
cupped her mouth and clamped it up tight. It was rough, scaly, strong and
smelled of cigarettes.
“Well, well,” said the voice. It was throaty, harsh.
“If it isn’t my old sweetheart. So how’s my little Sandy these days?”
The man swung her around and forcefully pushed her up against a wooden fence
that surrounded the corner lot, keeping his hand on her mouth and holding his
body rigidly against hers.
When Sandy looked into the man’s deep-socketed eyes, she
instantly recognized him as being the man at the bar. But then she remembered
also, painfully so, that this was no stranger.
He pulled out a knife and held it to her throat. “Talk to
me bitch, but if you scream I’ll slice you from ear to ear.” He removed his
hand from her mouth.
“N-Nathan?” she managed to wheeze out between
hyperventilating breaths. She shook in terror, almost uncontrollably.
“Damn, you remember,” he said almost gleefully. “How
‘bout that.”
“I-It’s only been a couple years.”
“It’s been three years and six months, bitch, and I hear
you haven’t been doing a very good job waiting for me. Isn’t that what you
said? That you’d wait for me? And no visits! Tsk, tsk. I was the love
of your life. I treated you good--when you deserved it, yet you never once came
to see me.”
His breath was rancid as he spit his words at her, stinking
of beer and whiskey and vomit. His eyes were made of cocaine glass--slick,
unfocused. Lightning reflected silver off of their surface making them glow
wildly. This gave him an appearance as demonical as his demeanor.
All she could do was stand frozen and shaking.
He slapped her across the face, at which she let out a quiet
yelp. She had been abused far more vigorously in the past to have something like
a face slap send her to screaming and crying.
He laughed at her and drew closer if that were even possible.
He whispered into her ear with it a blithe sarcasm. “I hear you got into a bit
of a mess while I was away. I heard you found another dick, and he did you up
good.” He pulled down her turtleneck and felt the irregular weave of cicatrix
along her neck. He laughed again. “Too bad he wasn’t a better swimmer. I’d
a liked to shake his hand. A man after my own heart.”
The sky lit up with a spectacular lightning display, jaunting
from one cloud to another then striking the ground. It was a close strike; the
thunder was instantaneous and sounded like a nuclear blast. Sandy let out a
startled scream and tried to cover her ears, but Nathan stood rigid, oblivious
to what was going on around him.
With that, the rain began to fall in sheets. Wet rivulets
trickled down the man’s grease-slicked hair and traced the lines on his
weathered face.
Sandy’s own hair was now falling soaked and limp into her
eyes. Her stomach burned with fear, but her body was chilled to the bone from
the frigid rain. Cold and alone. “What do you want, Nathan? Please, I’ll
give you anything just don’t hurt me. Please, leave me alone!”
He took the knife from her throat long enough to scratch his
unshaven jaw with the blade then replaced it precariously close to her tender
neck. “Just two things and I’ll be on my way. See, I just got out only two
days ago, and . . . well, I’m a little short on cash, shall we say. When we
was together I took care of you. Now, I hear you got yourself a good job working
with stiffs, so you can take care of me, fork over some of what’s rightfully
mine anyway. I’ve got people to see and . . . well, you know--stuff to buy.
It’s been a long time, and my nose is itchy, so I’m in the process of making
up for lost time. Just think of this as your good deed for the day. You
know--help out the lowly. You do think I’m lowly, don’t you bitch? A
lowly scum not worth visiting in jail.”
He pressed her even harder up against the fence, scraping the
knife ever so slightly against her skin. The cold, whetted steel of it’s blade
flickered like a live wire with every pass of lightning. The spiked tips of the
wooden slats behind her dug deeply between her shoulder blades. Breathing became
harder. She was afraid to swallow.
“I-in my purse. I have sixty dollars, that’s all. But you
can have it.” If she just played him calmly and didn’t give him a reason to
slit her throat, she thought that maybe she might make it through with only a
few cuts as a token of his appreciation.
He yanked the purse from her grasp. “I’ll just take the
whole thing off your hands. Maybe there’s some extra money in there that you
overlooked.”
“There,” she said. “You have your money now please can
I go? Please?”
“Ah-ah-ah,” he said in a maliciously playful tone. Sandy
half-expected a forked tongue to flicker out between his oily lips. “There’s
still one more thing you gotta do for me before I let you go.”
Sandy glanced past him out at their surroundings for any sign
of help. The washed out night seemed to disappear behind the crazed man. What
little that was recognizable in the shadows before the rain began, now bled
together in a gray-black-silver collage as if everything was made of ice and was
now all melting away, leaving only Sandy and Nathan and whatever he had planned
for her.
“See, I’ve spent three and a half long and lonely years
in an eight by ten jail cell, staring at hairy asses and the bitch of the month
spread eagle on my wall.” His eyes had a strange, far away look in them. A far
away but hungry look in them.
Mesmerized, he let the purse drop from his hand and he slowly
started rubbing his crotch. “See, pictures and Rosy Palm just didn’t cut it,
baby. I need a real body underneath me. A soft body.” He unzipped her leather
jacket and began forcefully stroking her breasts. He leaned into her ear. “Your
body,” he whispered.
She began to whimper. She wanted to push him away, but she
also wanted to stay alive.
Lightning whiz-cracked through the sky. The heavens exploded
with thunder and gales of stinging rain. It was as if the ferocity and rawness
of the night gave him power. As if he was as invincible as nature. The forces of
darkness were on his side. No one would hear a scream over the thunderous
cacophony in the sky. Nightfall and the relentless cloudburst had conspired to
steal away any hope of someone seeing the despicable act, shielding it like a
sky-drawn curtain.
Holding the knife to her throat Nathan unzipped his pants and
released his erect penis from his underwear, holding it in his free hand. He
kissed her with slobbers across her face, and he let his penis go to undo and
tug at her jeans.
Tears mixed with rain as Sandy could only close her eyes and
wait for it to be over. Held hostage in public with darkness, steel, rain,
degradation as the weapons used against her. Every evil card was in its place
for Nathan to get away with anything he wanted--anything. Every card, that is,
but one.
“The cold piece of metal you feel at the back of your head
is a .22 caliber revolver. Sure, it’s small, but I believe it’ll still put a
hole where it’s pointed.”
Nathan immediately stopped his advances.
Sandy opened her eyes and saw John through the silver ropes
of rain. Relief poured over her, and she was lost somewhere between a nervous
smile and bursting out crying.
“If you don’t move that gun away I’ll slice her
throat,” Nathan growled.
John cocked the revolver’s hammer back with his thumb.
“If you think you can do it faster than I can pull the trigger, then let’s
find out.”
Sandy’s eyes widened at John’s seeming disregard for her
safety.
“Drop it,” John demanded. He poked the hard barrel into
Nathan’s head again. “Drop it!”
Finally, hesitantly, Nathan dropped the knife and held his
hands in the air. “Okay, okay, don’t fucking shoot me.”
“Are you all right, Sandy?”
She shook her head, yes, wiping back tears.
“Shit, guy. I was only playing around with the bitch. I
wasn’t really going to hurt her. She’s an old girlfriend, she knows I was
only playing around. Tell him San, tell him I was only playing around.” He
clenched his jaw tight and gave her an intimidating stare. It was maniacal,
other-worldly.
She was silent.
“Tell him San!”
Sensing safety
with a pistol pointing at the back of his head, she finally found her voice.
“Get away from me!” she screamed at him. She pushed him aslant and, after
picking up her purse, went to John’s side.
“You sure your all right?” John asked again.
“I will be in a minute,” she said. Her face became
flushed with anger, hatred. With Nathan standing in front of her with his hands
still raised shoulder high, she brought an expeditious and solid size
seven-and-a-half Reebok to his still-exposed groin. His pain and subsequent
collapse was instantaneous.
John had barely been able to flinch at her first kick when
she somehow managed another squarely between his legs, his cupped hands having
little affect to the severity of the blow.
Curled into the fetal position, he whimpered like a newborn
then began sucking in air, kicking his feet feebly at the wet sidewalk.
She let out a quiet scream then calmed herself with a long,
deep breath.
She turned back to John. “Now I’m okay.”
As Sandy grabbed John’s arm and they hurried back down the
alleyway to West 1st Street John asked, “Where’d you learn to kick like
that?”
“Tae Bo videos.”
“Well remind me to never make you angry.”
They sprinted through the deluge back to John’s car which
was parked at the same spot he had earlier dropped Sandy off, and they got
inside. Both stared at the other for a soundless moment through rain-obscured
eyes. Sandy’s face was streaked with wet strands of dark hair and black
eyeliner. John’s was nervous and pale.
Finally, he started the car, and the shower-slicked tires
spun to life and gripped the wet pavement as the Nissan did a U-turn and sped
off.
“You’re absolutely sure you’re all right?” John
reiterated.
Sandy laughed to herself. “Yeah, I’m okay,” she assured
him once more. “Though I don’t think he’ll be normal for a few days--if normal
could be used to describe him.” She turned in her seat to face him. “I’m
really glad you came back. He was high, and there’s no telling what he would
have done to me after--.” Her voice trailed off, and she sank a little in the
cushioned leather.
“So, you do know him, huh?”
“Unfortunately.” There was loathing in her voice, a
self-deprecating resonance. “H-he was telling the truth when he said that he
was an old boyfriend. He’d been in prison for three and a half years. Just got
out a few days ago, I guess.”
John said nothing. Just kept driving.
She faced forward once more. “He’s part of a past that
I’d much like to forget. I had actually begun to until just a few minutes
ago.”
“Was he the one you saw at the bar earlier?”
“Yes.”
Though the car was only minimally lit from the glow of the
instrument panel, John noticed that her hands were trembling in little fists,
resting on her knees. She seemed unable to look him in the eye as she spoke, as
if she were ashamed of what she was admitting to him. She could only stare at
the floor or glance out her side window. He took his right hand off the steering
wheel, hesitated a moment, but then gently put it over her hands.
“Everything’s okay now. Really.”
She looked down at the strong hand covering hers then smiled
up at him.
John couldn’t tell if the gleam in her eyes and the wetness
on her cheeks were tears or rain. He asked, “Does this ex-boyfriend know where
you live?”
Sandy remembered the strange man in the overcoat looking up
at her window earlier in the day and now realized who it probably was. She said,
“I think so. I’ve moved since he’s been in jail, but he’s had plenty of
time to find me. Oil City isn’t exactly a place you can lose yourself in.”
“Well then, he’s one up on me.”
She looked at him confused. “Why did you come
back?”
“Well, because I’m a little backwards when it comes to
courting,” he continued, “but I talked myself into going back to your
apartment and asking you out on a date before I could chicken out. Only when I
got to your place, no one was there”. He smiled coyly. “I bet you didn’t
notice the big for sale sign on the porch when you picked that house.”
“Excuse me?”
“And there wasn’t a single curtain hung anywhere that I
could see. No furniture either. As far as I could tell, no one lived there. The
place was empty. Then I remembered seeing someone turn up this alley when I was
a few blocks back, and I figured that maybe it was you, so I went after you.
When I saw what was going on, I went back for my revolver.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you had one because I don’t
think anything else would’ve stopped him.”
“Your kicks seemed to have done a pretty good job of
stopping him. And besides, the gun wasn’t loaded.”
“What!”
“I have twins to worry about, so I never keep it loaded.
There’s a couple rounds in the glove box, somewhere.”
“A regular Rambo.”
“There’s just too many kids these days who think they can
do what they see on television. I suppose I could have loaded it before going
back, but I was in kind of a hurry, considering what was about to happen to
you.”
“You practically dared him to cut my throat.”
“It was a bluff.”
“No kidding.”
“I didn’t know what else to do.”
After thinking about it for a moment, she finally acquiesced
to his stratagem. “I am thankful, really. You saved my life back there. And
I’m sorry,” she said with more than slight embarrassment. “I-I shouldn’t
have lied to you like that. It’s just that I didn’t want you to see where I
really lived.”
“Why should I care? I don’t live in Trump mansion, you
know.”
“I’m sure you don’t, but I’m also equally sure you
don’t live in a rat trap above a bar, either.”
She glared at him studiously, obviously waiting for a
reaction.
He gave her nothing but a smile. “Well just for future
reference, I care more about substance than style.”
“Considering that I lied to you, I can’t be doing too
well there, either.”
“Actually, you be surprised at how well you’re doing in
that area.”
Sandy blushed.
Trying to forget about the only negative aspect of the entire
evening thus far and with a renewed enthusiasm she asked, “So, since you know
I obviously don’t live back there, where is it then that you’re taking
me?”
“My place.”
“Oh John!” she pretended. “Never on a first date.”
“Ah-ah. Technically, we haven’t had our first date
yet.”
“Oh. Well, in that case anything goes.”
They laughed. It was what they had done all evening. And
their laughter seemed to draw them closer. Closer by the minute.
“Seriously though, there are five bedrooms in the place, so
there’s plenty of room. I just don’t want some maniac busting your door down
in the middle of the night. You’ll be safe with me at my grandfather’s
house.”
“I can’t imagine any place where I’d much rather be.”
The night was a saturated sponge being wrung over the
nightscape, and Ian was barely able to handle the giant truck along the twists
and turns of the slick, two-lane highway at the speed in which he was traveling.
Now, not only was he in a race against the Watcher, but also the petrol gauge.
Its needle hung precariously close to the ‘E’ but had hardly moved since he
noticed how low it’d gotten some time back. Divine intervention or luck; right
now he didn’t care as long as it got him to his destination--and before the
demon.
Up ahead, caught in the rain-sparkled high-beams of the
truck, a vehicle was slanted half-on, half-off the road with its lights still
on. If it weren’t for its awkward position, he would have just passed it by.
Unfortunately, he had to slow down to maneuver the rig around it. But as he
approached the sport-utility vehicle, down-shifting to diminish speed, he found
himself fighting off a macabre curiosity as to why it was parked askew with its
lights still on along this otherwise deserted road, in the middle of a
torrential thunderstorm.
“Just let it go,” he reminded himself. “There’s other
things needin’ your attention right now.”
None the less, the truck slowed even more--then stopped,
flooding its lights over the SUV with as much substance as the descending rain.
He now knew why he’d gotten so curious, and thousands of tiny prickles broke
out over his body as the truck’s headlights began to bring a clearer focus to
the once obscure vehicle.
He didn’t have to know what happened to SUV’s driver,
because he could see what happened splattered all over the windows and interior
without seeing the most despicable part inside. The demon-seed had used another
person’s body but had only gotten this far with it. And he figured being so
close, it probably wouldn’t search out another victim but would just continue
on, concealed under the sopping cloak of darkness.
Maybe it wasn’t that far ahead of him, after all. But it
was still ahead.
©2004 StoriesByEmail.com
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