Come out tonight by Richard Laymon

Author:Richard Laymon [Richard Laymon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: SF
ISBN: 9780843951837
Published: 2005-05-31T16:27:12+00:00

Chapter Thirty-three

Alone on the hillside with the body, Pete scanned the area again. He saw no one. Nor did he see any roaming coyotes or dogs.

He didn’t suppose the body was actually in danger of being eaten by such animals. Especially in daylight. The risk would’ve been much greater last night. If she’d made it through the darkness…

Who says she did?

Pete didn’t think he’d seen any bites.

Doesn’t mean there aren’t any.

He stepped closer to the body. Staring down at it, he searched for bite marks.

The breasts were bloody, dirty, abraded and scratched. Bits of skin were rucked up here and there, but no chunks were missing. Neither breast looked as if it had been ripped by teeth.

To Pete, they looked wonderful in spite of the mess.

He wanted to touch them, put his hands on them and squeeze them gently.

What if Jeff sees me?

He looked over his shoulder at the wall.

Then he stared down at the woman’s breasts.

I’d get blood on my hands. And she’d end up with my hand prints on her. How would I explain that to Jeff? Or to the cops?

He didn’t care. They were tattered and filthy but lovely and he ached to feel them. They glistened with drops of sweat or dew that slid down them through the blood. They would be warm and slippery.

But she’s dead! You can’t feel up a corpse! Talk about perverted!

I shouldn’t even be staring at her like this, he told himself. It’s sick.

Maybe I oughta check out the rest.

Excited by the idea, he looked back at the wall again. Then he hurried alongside the body and crouched between its feet.

If Jeff catches me…

I’m only looking for bite marks, he reminded himself. To see if a coyote or something got to her last night.

Is it supposed to look like this?

Pretty much, he thought. It resembled drawings and photos he’d seen, but…

Something hissed.

A snake?

Pete started to turn his head, yelped as an icy blast of water struck him, then saw Jeff standing on the wall, a huge grin on his face, a wild gleam in his eyes, and the garden hose in his right hand.

Breathless, Pete scurried away from the girl. The water, shooting out of the nozzle like a shiny silver pole, struck him hard in the chest and splashed off as if exploding. “Stop it!” he yelled.

Jeff lowered his aim.

The water drove into Pete’s belly, then smacked the jutting front of his trunks, soaking him with frigid liquid, the powerful stream whapping against his erection.

Pete turned his back to Jeff and hunkered down.

The tight rod of water poked the seat of his trunks, soaked them, pounded against his buttocks, probed between them. “Quit it!”

Suddenly, it went away.

Looking over his shoulder, Pete saw the silvery liquid slant down and strike the body’s right breast. On impact, the tube burst into glistening spray that was pink for a moment, then clear and sparkling. The breast was suddenly clean and pale and shiny. It shook as the water battered it.

Then it stopped shaking.

The

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