Best New Horror 2 by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Mammoth Books of, Horror, Anthologies (multiple authors), Horror - Anthologies, Fiction
ISBN: 9781472113627
Publisher: Constable & Robinson
Published: 1991-08-14T23:00:00+00:00

I wasn’t expecting to babysit during our vacation,” she said. “I wanted to relax and have fun.”

“It hasn’t been so terrible,” he said. “He just gets afraid. He’s never been alone. He was married to Jean right out of high school. He feels as though his entire life is crumbling.”

“He shouldn’t drink so much,” Maggie said. “Though at least when he’s drunk he’s slightly amusing.”

“Don’t make fun of him,” Peter said.

“I’ve made you angry,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

“And don’t patronize me! He’s known true fear; have you? I don’t see you running down to Nicaragua and El Salvador, or Guatemala or any of those places you write about so eloquently. Perhaps you’re just as frightened as all of us and you won’t admit it. You don’t really care about anything, do you? You just stay on the sidelines and write about it and pretend you’re fighting the good fight.” Peter pulled open the door again. “I’m staying with Rich until he feels better.”

“That could be for the rest of his life,” Maggie said. She sighed. “I want to explore the beach first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Rich wants to leave this place,” Peter said.

Maggie chewed her cheek. “Why am I being made out to be the bad guy here? I want a few days of relaxation before I go back to work. I think I’ve really been very accommodating to your brother.”

“Good night, Maggie.” Peter left, shutting the door behind him.

Maggie took off her clothes, put on a nightgown, and turned off the light. She slid under the covers. They were staying; she didn’t care how Rich felt.

Maggie opened her eyes. For a moment she did not know where she was. The dark room had an unfamiliar smell—kerosene? Peter was not asleep next to her. Someone screamed.

Maggie threw off her covers and ran to the window. Below, at the center of the traffic circle, a woman struggled to get away from two men dressed in uniforms with batons and pistols strapped to their legs. Each held an arm of the woman. They spoke loudly but too rapidly for Maggie to understand. Black hair covered the woman’s face as she screamed. She pulled at her hair, and her cries became desperate whimpers.

“Help me,” she cried.

Maggie stepped back from the window. Had she heard those words in English or Spanish? She leaned forward slightly. The woman kicked one of the men. He pulled out his baton. He was going to hit her. Maggie covered her mouth; she felt ill. The man dropped the baton. The woman screamed again.

Maggie’s heart raced. They would kill the woman if someone did not stop them. The woman had screamed for help and no one had answered. Everyone hid behind closed doors. Everyone.

Maggie had to do something, but she felt frozen in place. The woman went limp, becoming a dead weight in the men’s arms. They dragged her past the rearing horse. The woman screamed again, long and loud, a pathetic wail. “Help me,” she sobbed. They pulled her toward the government building and out of view of the hotel window.

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