Judas Goat Page 12

  Coming from the mirror.

  * * * *

  Thick darkness surrounds him as he runs through the remains of a corridor, the ground rough and cold beneath his bare feet. He can feel pieces of rock and glass, dirt and cement as he runs, and just ahead of him in the night is Sheena. Her white bare buttocks bounce in the dark as she keeps pace ahead of him, hands out to her sides, fingertips barely brushing the walls to help her maneuver along the winding corridor at such speed.

  Lenny loses sight of her for a second, but as he runs on he staggers through an opening, the remains of a blown-out doorway, and directly into the path of what appear to be oncoming headlights. Blinded, he holds an arm up to block his face as he loses his balance and falls to the ground. He lands on his side, and the rough ground is painful on contact. He scrambles to his feet and pushes forward. The lights move and glide away, flashing about and moving at strange angles. He realizes they are flashlights on the beach below. There are voices in the distance, and he follows them to an open area. The ground feels different now, softer, damp and smooth. Sand, he’s on sand. Lenny comes to a stop and looks around, searching again for the lights or some sign of Sheena, but there is only night and the sound of the ocean. It’s much closer now, louder, and he can hear the waves slapping shore. He’s standing on the edge of a sand dune.

  “Sheena!”

  No one answers, but from a stretch of beach in the distance comes an explosion of flame. A bonfire suddenly brought to life, its brilliant orange flames cut the night, reaching skyward and illuminating the sand below. Three dark shapes move about, among them, a nude woman staggering into the light.

  Lenny breaks into a run. Charging down the dunes, he stumbles forward toward the bonfire. The three men stand watching them. Sheena is so close they could reach out and touch her. She laughs and awkwardly attempts to cover herself with her arms. Lenny throws the blanket around her and wraps her in a hug from behind. “Sorry,” he says, smiling nervously. “My girlfriend, she’s a little wasted.”

  Parked on the beach beyond the men are three motorcycles. The bikers exchange glances. One begins to laugh and walks away, disappearing into the darkness on the other side of the fire. The other two speak to each other in hushed tones Lenny cannot hear. At close range he realizes how large two of the three are, and that they all appear to be in their late thirties or early forties. They wear matching leather vests, two have long hair pulled into ponytails and the third’s head is shaved clean. All look as if they haven’t had a proper bath in some time. The smells of body odor and alcohol waft about on the sea breeze, mixed with those of the fire.

  “Didn’t mean to bother you guys.” Lenny pulls Sheena toward the dunes.

  “No bother,” the largest one says, a pot-bellied man with bushy brown hair and a matching beard streaked with gray. He smiles. Most of his teeth are missing. “Least she ain’t.”

  His partner with the shaved head smiles lasciviously. He’s taller but much thinner, wiry and has more of an athletic build.

  “I’ve got to get her home.” Lenny turns toward the dunes, but the third biker suddenly appears before them.

  A dark-haired and powerful-looking man, he eyes Lenny with a menacing stare. His face is scarred, his nose flattened. “This is our beach tonight,” he says. “You’re trespassing.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Lenny answers, still trying to figure out how he got behind them. “We’re going.”

  Sheena begins to laugh and pulls free. Taking the blanket with her, she wraps herself in it and stumbles about, nearly falling but catching her balance at the last moment. “Don’t be so antisocial!”

  “Don’t look like she wants to leave,” the biker says. “Do you, honey?”

  “Nah,” she says, still laughing and moving back toward the bonfire. “That’s a really cool fire, did you guys build that?”

  The heavyset man reaches into a cooler and removes two cans of beer. He holds one out for Sheena, who takes it then returns her attention to the flames, mesmerized. He holds the other out for Lenny. “Go ahead, take it.”

  “You too good to have a beer with us?” the other one snaps.

  “We need to leave. I’m not looking for problems.”

  “Then don’t cause none,” the man says, thrusting the can at him.

  “Yeah, Leonard,” Sheena laughs. “Relax!”

  The man behind him takes Lenny’s wrist and raises his hand until it meets the beer can. “Take it.”

  Lenny does.

  The men move past him. One of them laughs.

  All three join Sheena by the fire.

  * * * *

  Lenny knew he was drifting in and out of consciousness, but the terror remained constant. His mind had nearly shut down. It simply wasn’t equipped to sustain such degrees of fear, and he could no longer follow the things unfolding before him in any linear or fully coherent way. He knew he was still on the bed, and that the others were still standing over him, but he was flat on his back again, and they were no longer touching him. He tried to look at the ceiling rather than the hideous faces surrounding him, but his head lolled to the side and he could hear something moving up the stairs. The others continued their horrible clicking and chanting, shuffled away from the bed and doorway, and made room for whatever was coming.

  Lenny wanted to run, to fight and get away, but he hadn’t the strength, and his body refused to cooperate. It felt as if he’d been drugged, or worse, perhaps the blow to his head had caused some sort of permanent damage. He couldn’t be sure. All he could do was watch helplessly as whatever was coming for him slowly approached.

  A shadow appeared on the landing at the top of the stairs.

  Breathing…he could hear breathing…raspy and labored.

  Slowly, a face appeared from behind the doorframe. Those eyes…that mouth…that hair…that body…

  Sheena, nude and on all fours, crawled across the floor toward the bed, an impish smile creasing her lips. Unlike the others, she appeared completely human.

  The chanting ceased, and the others bowed in deference, as if confronted with a god. All Lenny could hear was the wind coming from the nearby mirror and his own pulse pounding in his ears.

  She moved so close to the bed Lenny could no longer see her. He tried to lift his head but couldn’t. His eyes frantically searched the room.

  Slithering up over the foot of the bed, her body moving more like a snake than a human being, the thing that had been Sheena’s reflection crept closer. He felt her hands touching his legs, her breasts brushing his stomach as she moved up and on top of him. Though her lips did not move, Lenny could hear whispers emanating from somewhere nearby. A disturbing hissing sound escaped her, and as she arched her back and threw back her head in what appeared to be a fit of ecstasy, her skin bubbled, as if the bodily fluids beneath it had begun to boil.

  With her breasts pressed to his chest and her arms clamped onto his shoulders, her body began to distend like rubber. Pieces of flesh peeled away in chunks to reveal a gray network of muscles and tendons, and black snake-like tendrils, just as he’d seen coming from Meadows’ head, suddenly burst from the wounds and sprayed the room with thick globs of yellow pus. Sweeping and jerking about several feet in the air, the tendrils flailed in furious motion then began coiling around him.

  As the thing on top of him fell forward, embracing him with its clawed hands and slimy skin, its drooling lips pressed against his, the tentacles coiled tighter and tighter about his legs, arms and throat. Just before spiraling into absolute psychosis and the artificial safety of unconsciousness, Lenny attempted another scream.

  This time he succeeded.

  * * * *

  Lenny remains on his feet and apart from the others. He can hear their voices and laughter, though with the wind can only make out broken pieces of their conversation. Heat from the bonfire surges toward him, flushes his face and leaves him woozy, but his bare feet are cold in the chilly sand. He wishes he had his shoes. He feels vulnerable without them
. Still planning their escape, Lenny considers the unopened beer can clutched in his hand. It can be used as a weapon if necessary. Clearly he is the only one thinking in such terms however. To the three men he is of little consequence, a virtual nonentity. Should the right opportunity present itself, he knows he can use this to his advantage.

  Lenny can’t be certain how long they’ve been on the beach, though a fair amount of time has passed. The men have had more to drink, as has Sheena. At one point they passed a bong between them, and despite the ocean breeze, traces of the pungent marijuana odor remain mixed with those of the fire. A quarter moon dangles in the sky, watching silently as Sheena, who until then has been sitting and staring dreamily at the fire, stands. The men remain seated in the sand surrounding her. Though she can barely retain her balance, she looks back at Lenny.

  With an expression somewhere between mockery and defiance, Sheena extends a hand to one of the men seated at her feet. He takes it, rises and slips an arm around her. He and Sheena stroll away from the fire together and settle among the shadows near the motorcycles. Partially concealed in darkness but not quite beyond the reach of light provided by the bonfire, Lenny watches as Sheena begins to dance with the man, allowing him to hold her in his arms as together they slowly sway to a beat no one else can hear. In time, they kiss, the blanket falls free and the man’s hands move across her body.

  Sheena drops to her knees before him as he unfastens his pants.

  Lenny remains stone-faced and makes no move to stop what is happening even as the other men snicker and moan their approval. Though part of him believes he should stop this, he also feels detached from it, as if watching some fictional staged event play out before him. There is nothing erotic or even sexual about it. It is cold, calculated, mechanical and soulless. If Sheena believes this is somehow a punishment levied at him, some childish act meant to provoke jealousy or rage, she is mistaken.

  An eternity passes as one man finishes, moves back to the fire and is replaced by the next. Once all three have been satisfied, Sheena finally rises from her knees, again wraps herself in the blanket, and staggers back to the fire. As the flames play across her face, Lenny realizes she is looking right at him, her bloodshot eyes sparkling with contempt, her lips and chin still wet. If she could speak at that moment, he is sure she would ask him if he was happy now. He offers nothing, but refuses to look away, forcing her to break contact first. She collapses down among the men, who welcome her with laughter and open arms.

  More beer is retrieved from the cooler and handed out. Lenny is ignored. He stands to the side of the fire as he has for so long now, the same unopened can in his hand and held down at his side. He finally steps closer. “I think it’s time to go,” he says.

  The man with the shaved head glares at him. “Fuck off.”

  “We’re leaving,” he says. “Sheena, let’s go. Now.”

  She holds his gaze a moment then struggles to her feet. “OK.”

  The three men are on their feet quickly.

  “She ain’t going nowhere,” Pot-belly says, taking Sheena’s arm and pulling her back against him. “We’re just getting started.”

  “You wanna leave,” the scarred one says to Lenny, “then go.”

  The man with the shaved head inches closer. “While you still can.”

  “If I go she comes with me,” Lenny tells them, offering her his free hand. “Sheena, come on.”

  Two of the men take Sheena back toward the fire. She doesn’t object, but Lenny can see in her expression something has shifted. She wants out. The leader closes the gap between himself and Lenny, standing so close he can smell the man’s rancid breath.

  “Listen up,” he says. “We’re gonna drink some more beers, smoke some more dope and then we’re gonna pull a train on that horny little bitch of yours.”

  “If we walk out of here right now that’ll be the end of it. If we don’t then you’re talking kidnapping and rape.”

  “We ain’t raping nobody. She wants it and we’re gonna give it to her.”

  “We walk. Right now.”

  “Or what?”

  “I’ll stop it.”

  “How you gonna do that, badass? You gonna kill all three of us?”

  “No.” Lenny’s expression remains cool, even. “Just you.”

  * * * *

  Barely conscious on the bed, Lenny tried to move but could only manage some slight wiggling of his fingers. The thing resembling Sheena was either gone or had slithered off beyond his range of vision. The others were gathered by the windows on the far wall. One window was open, the curtains pulled back and out of the way to reveal a long length of rope being fed through from outside. Methodically, they pulled it through until several feet lay coiled on the floor, and then, bringing the rope with them, they turned back to him and approached the bed. The flagpole, Lenny thought, it’s the rope from the flagpole.

  Though the rain had stopped, the rope was still damp. As they fastened it around his neck and pulled it taut, he realized they intended to hang him with it.

  He tried again to fight, but moved and felt as if he were clawing his way up from a bottomless sleep. His eyes found the mirror and the symbols drawn across it in his blood. The reflection beyond them was still his own, but he could barely make it out without raising his head, and when he did, he saw that it was distorted, elongated and blurred.

  “Stop,” he gasped as they sat him up. Two took hold of his ankles and swung his legs around until his feet touched the floor. His head spun and it felt like he was falling, but they held him steady and lifted him up onto his feet.

  The chanting began again as they led him toward the open window.

  His head fell back and to the side as if boneless.

  Framed by the doorway, the silhouette of what appeared to be Sheena watched him from the shadows beyond the bedroom.

  In the mirror between them, something moved.

  Something other than his reflection.

  * * * *

  “Listen real careful.” The biker scratches his beard. “I’m only offering this once. You can play along or you can turn this into the worst night of your life. Don’t mean shit to me either way, but if you keep fucking with me, I’m gonna cripple you.”

  Lenny has no doubt the man could do just that. He holds his stare, tries not to flinch, but with that hesitation gives himself away, and the biker sees weakness in him, the vulnerability of fear. He’s confident he could take this man out one-on-one, or at least have a good shot at it, but is he ready to face what will happen should he fight? At best, he knows he’ll be on the receiving end of a beating by these men that will land him in the hospital; at worst, he could sustain permanent damage or perhaps even death. The rest of his life is waiting.

  He despises her just then, but not nearly as much as he despises himself.

  “Be smart,” the man tells him.

  The other men, bringing Sheena with them, return from their position at the fire and stand behind their friend. The flames wash over them, and Lenny looks to her, standing there wrapped in a blanket, eyes glazed.

  In that moment she knows he will not save her.

  She vanishes into their arms without a scream or even a whimper, gone with only a look Lenny will never forget and a deafening silence he will always hear, mourning lives neither will ever know.

  His hand releases the beer can. It falls harmlessly to the sand.

  And Lenny walks away.

  * * * *

  Suddenly, all the terror and confusion retreated, and he was filled with an eerie calmness. He knew what was coming, what must be done, and that there would be no turning back now. They sat him on the windowsill, holding him steady as they lifted the window high enough for him to fit through. The rope was tight and rough around his throat, and his limbs tingled, as if asleep.

  The chanting ceased and the others stared at him, their cold-blooded reptilian eyes blinking coolly as the tendrils coming from all of them now snapped and thrashed about in the a
ir like tiny black whips.

  Sheena’s silhouette in the doorway was gone, as were the strange movements in the mirror.

  She died terrified and alone.

  But something else stood over by the bed now, something that looked just like him…

  But was she really running from some phantom in the mirror, or was it something else, something real, something from so long ago she’d never been able to separate it from who she was or what she’d become?

  …like all that was bad within him, all the deficiencies he could not escape whenever he looked deep into his own heart.

  You can’t fool the past Lenny, I know that myself.

  As the others turned him toward the window, Lenny saw more of the creatures gathered outside in the yard below. They looked up with vacant expectation, silently anticipating his fall.

  It kills you if you let it.

  Lenny could see the rope extended from his neck to the flagpole like a clothesline hung between buildings, and tried to imagine what it would feel like when his weight snapped it rigid and shattered his neck. Hands pressed against his back and shoulders, nudged him forward.

  It bleeds you. Slowly.

  He looked back over his shoulder once more, as if glimpsing the very past that had brought him here.

  Maybe she brought you here to die too. Or maybe you brought yourself.

  Then his eyes rolled shut and he fell back out the window into the cold open air and horrible silence.

  * * * *

  He doesn’t remember this part. He remembers walking along the sand until he came to a large boulder amidst the dune grass, climbing atop it, lighting a cigarette and looking back down the beach at the fire burning in the distance. He remembers turning toward the dark ocean and smoking his cigarette beneath the night sky, the tranquil sound of waves rolling into shore then softly receding. He remembers all that as if it were yesterday. But he doesn’t remember this.