The Complete Beast House Chronicles: Four spine-chilling horror novels in one unmissable collection by Richard Laymon

Author:Richard Laymon [Laymon, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780755395361
Publisher: Headline
Published: 2012-04-11T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Sandy’s Story – August, 1980

The woman behind the steering wheel tried to say something, but the sounds she made were muffled and mushy.

With the thumb and forefinger of her left hand, Sandy dug into the woman’s mouth and started pulling out Bill’s hair. It disgusted her. It reminded her of cleaning out a bathtub drain, except that flesh and teeth came out along with the gobs of sticky hair.

When the mouth was just about clear, the woman gasped, ‘Bless ya, girl. Bless ya.’

‘Are you okay?’ Sandy asked.

The woman choked out a rough, slurpy laugh, then said, ‘Did I kill da cocksucker?’

‘I guess so.’

‘Go look. Gotta know.’

‘I’m not going over there, lady. How bad are you hurt?’

‘Don’ know.’

‘Can you move?’

‘Don’ know.’

‘See if you can start the car.’

The woman slowly raised her right hand and turned the ignition key. The engine grumbled, caught, and rumbled on, staying alive. The woman turned her head toward Sandy. She grinned a bloody smile.

Though feeling a little sick, Sandy said, ‘Scoot over and I’ll drive.’

‘Huh-uh. What about Bill?’

‘Look at him. He’s dead. You think he’s not dead? My God, you probably swallowed some of his brains.’

The woman gurgled another laugh, then said, ‘He sure pucked up my teet. But I gotta know.’ She fumbled with the latch of her seatbelt.

‘I tell you what,’ Sandy said.

‘Huh?’

‘Go on and move over. Keep your eyes on me. I’ll take care of things, and then we’ll scoot.’

‘Okay.’

Sandy trotted into the white beam of the headlight. She threw a huge shadow ahead of her. Her shadow darkened Bill’s bare back.

When she got to him, she stepped aside so that neither her body nor her shadow would ruin the woman’s view. Then she sank to her knees.

Bill looked as if his head had been buried in the ground to the tops of his ears.

Sandy clutched the hair on the back of his head. When she pulled, his head slid across the ground. It wasn’t buried, after all – just smashed flat.

She tugged hard, pulling the body away from the tree, lifting its head as much as she could, wondering if the woman in the car could see that Bill’s skull was caved in and half empty.

Then she reached around the front with her butcher knife and slit his throat.

She ran back to the car.

She threw herself into the driver’s seat and slammed the door.

‘Tanks,’ the woman said.

Sandy smiled at her. ‘Glad to help.’

‘I’m Lib.’

‘Lib?’

‘Libby, Lib.’

‘Good to meet you, Lib. I’m Charly. With a y. Let’s get outa . . . Hey! All right!’

‘Huh?’ Lib asked.

‘You’ve got automatic transmission!’ She shoved the lever, then started to back up. For a moment, she was afraid that the right front of the car might remain stuck to the tree. But it came away all right with sounds like clinking glass and crunching tin.

‘Where we goin’?’ Lib asked.

‘I don’t know.’

She didn’t know. The main thing, for now, was that the car worked. She carefully turned it around, then started driving slowly back through the woods and up the slope.

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