Posted by hisdinner on December 12, 2004 at 15:52:15:
Chapter 8
Randy and Dennis were bored. Randy's POS car had broken down last night about ten miles further down the road. No way could they get to San Francisco, and the bus back to the base wouldn't come by for another four hours. This leave sucked the big one. Last night all the guys were supposed to meet up at this hot bar down in SoMa, but not Randy and Dennis, hell, no. They'd been hiking back to this little bump in the road about the time the other guys were stuffing dollars into a stripper's G-string. They got here at 3 AM last night, not even drunk, dog tired. By now they held the top twelve high scores on the damn video game at the convenience store. Something had to give. Then something did.
A flashy Range Rover pulled into the gas pumps while Randy and Dennis were taking a smoke break outside. An old man sat in the passenger seat and a thirty year old guy was driving. The old guy was bitching out the driver for running out of gas, screaming like a maniac, that's what got their attention. That and the pair of feet that suddenly kicked into the air right behind the old guy's head. Barely missed him. What the hell? Looked like a kid's, or a girl's. Randy looked at Dennis, and Dennis shook his head as if to say, "Hell, I don't know." They sauntered over to the pumps. The driver had his back to the Rover, checking out the girls in the car at the far end of the lot.
Randy, the tall cadet, reached the Rover first and looked in through the back window.
"Holy Jesus, Den! They got a girl in here!"
Allie was bound inexpertly with a nylon rope and she'd just about kicked her legs free of it, although her arms were still bound behind her. The lap blanket Graham had used to hide her was puddled on the floor. Allie's sports bra was stuffed into her mouth, and there was a bunch of tape wound around her head, keeping the gag in place. She twisted, saw Randy's face and began to turn around to face him. Her eyes were puffy and red. Her breasts were bare, but she still wore her running shorts and shoes.
Dennis, the shorter one, yanked open the back passenger door and gingerly grabbed Allie under her armpits, and hauled her backward and out of the car. He blushed furiously red. What had these monsters done to her? She had bruises all over! Randy clocked the asshole at the gas pumps. Graham went down holding the nozzle, spewing gas all over himself. Smith threw open his door and jumped out of the Rover as Dennis half-carried, half-dragged Allie into the store.
"Call the police!" Dennis shouted to the clerk who stood motionless, gaping at Allie's breasts.
Smith grasped his side and reached out, catching himself on the open car door, unable to stand. He screamed for Graham. Graham shook himself and rose, dizzy from the gas fumes. He retched against the driver's side of the Rover. "Get in, you old rat bastard!" Graham shouted at Smith. "We can't stay here!" He yanked the old man by the collar of his coat, dragged him through the passenger door and onto his seat. "I ought to leave you here, you old perv," Graham spat bile as he peeled out of the lot.
Inside the convenience store, Allie was coughing, waving off another sip of water from the bottle Randy held to her lips. She was seated on the floor behind the counter, her back resting against a display of microwave popcorn and taco chips. She was wearing a Travis AFB T shirt and refusing to say a word about her captors. Allie coughed and for the fifth time, she said, "No! Don't call them, dammit!"
"You fucking nuts, lady? These guys just saved your life and you don't want the police?" The clerk was dying to call in, get on the TV, at least. This was major cool. Nice tits, too. He wished that air force boy scout hadn't dug the shirt out of his duffel bag.
Allie shook her head. Her head hurt so bad, it was hard to think but she had to come up with something believable. Turn these guys in and it could hurt Martin. She had to make it seem—oh yes.
"It was my ex. We broke up. He—he followed us here and he tried to—"
She broke off coughing so that she could think of something plausible. This was nuts. She wanted to kill Smith and Graham, and now she had to cover for them?
"He tried to kidnap you back?" Dennis asked.
Perfect, thought Allie. She nodded and then coughed some more. "Yes. Please. Don't call, it will only make things worse."
Three men stood around her, looming like protective vultures while a fourth, Randy, knelt at her side, afraid to touch her, but staying put, in case—he didn't know what, in case she wanted to cry in his arms or something. He was embarrassed by the thought, but he really hoped she would.
Dennis hovered close. "Hey, hey, don't cry," he kept repeating. "You're ok now."
Allie shook her head. No. Not ok at all. She had a feeling that as soon as she was alone again, they'd come back. Or she'd just be alone. She didn't think she could stand to be alone right now. It had all been perfect last night. Martin. She ached for him.
"Can someone take me back to the hotel?" She spoke in a tiny voice. "Can I use somebody's phone?"
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Martin was five miles away from the hotel when his cell buzzed. He retrieved it from the passenger's seat, barely negotiating a curve in the road. Strange number, he didn't care. He hit the answer button, and shocky-sweet relief flooded through him when he heard her voice.
"Martin." She sounded lost. Alone.
He almost stood on the brakes. His car slewed to the right, fishtailed to the left again, then he regained control of the car. All he could see was her, Allie, not dead. Not dead! He pressed the phone tight to his ear, shouted, "Allie! Where are you? You're alright?"
"At the hotel. I got away, I'll tell you—" Allie's throat constricted with tears, she couldn't talk. It was such relief to tell him this. Something broke inside her, she sobbed.
"Five minutes, Allie, hang on, sweetheart."
Allie nodded, held the phone to her ear, sat on the bed and rocked. The two cadets and the clerk's brother stood at the door of her room, trying not to stare at her. At last she turned to them and said, "It's ok now, it's ok, he's coming – he--" Her voice broke again.
They wanted to stay till Martin arrived. Should she let them? She was afraid of what Martin might do if he saw them before he saw her. The men stood in a clot by the door, and Allie stayed huddled on the bed, waiting. Outside, the river rushed by, birds were busy in the trees. Randy and Dennis checked their uniforms a dozen times, sneaked sideways glances at the girl. Remembered the guy. Checked their uniforms again. Allie sniffled.
The door burst open, nearly cracking Randy's skull. Martin scooped Allie off the bed and held her, twisted around and said, "Who the hell are you?"
Allie felt his body stiffen, knew that he held a knife ready in his pocket. "They saved me."
The cadets! Martin heard the story, shaking his head. Dumb, insanely dumb luck. Trust Graham to be so high on weed, he'd forget to gas the car before their getaway. Martin was agitated; Allie could feel his body fighting the urge to kill something. Someone. Dennis said, "She told us not to call the cops, but –"
Martin cut him off. "I'll handle this." No one protested. Anyone could see this man meant business. After an awkward shaking of hands all around, the three men left, and Allie slumped against Martin, fresh tears erupting, sobs coming from somewhere deep inside. He carried her to the bed and they lay on it, Martin cradling her against his chest.
"I heard Smith talking, Allie. I thought he was killing you. No--" Martin shook his head, let out a huge rush of air. "No. I thought you were already dead." He pulled her close, breathed in the scent of her hair. So beautiful.
"He had me tied up, he made Graham do everything, I think his rib was cracked or something," Allie said. Her voice wasn't steady yet. "We were in some horrible sleazy motel room, Martin—it was just like—it was just like—" She pictured the room outside of Reno, the motel maid.
She shuddered, took a few breaths, and continued. "He wanted pictures, Martin. He made Graham take all these pictures of me tied on the bed but he kept fussing about the light, and then he decided he wanted to take me back to his house, and do it—do it right, he kept saying." She choked out the last few words, and then was silent. Martin's shirt was soaked where she pressed her face against him. He didn't trust himself to speak. He pictured lifting up that old man and tearing him in half. He had already killed both men a thousand times on the drive here. He held Allie.
Her body was chilled. Martin reached across her, pulled soft blankets over them both.
"It's funny, huh." Allie turned her head, looked up at the ceiling.
"Funny? No, Allie, it's not funny at all." Martin had to get to those men, finish this. Funny? This girl. He shook his head, held her. In his mind's eye he watched himself eviscerate the old man and strangle Graham with the entrails. Nothing could hurt those two enough. Martin's body quivered with adrenaline. Allie's hand circled on his chest.
"No, it is. All I want is to feel you, have you—take me. It's all I can think about, you, taking me."
Martin felt his stomach clutch. Allie continued.
"Then these guys come along, they want the same thing and – and it's horrible!" Allie let out a little strangled laugh. "That's pretty funny, isn't it?"
Martin held her face between his hands. "Allie. You think it's the same? Smith and me?" His eyes were riveting, pinning her, she couldn't look away. His grip nearly hurt. Martin realized he was looking at everything he could ever want.
"No. Oh, no, Martin." She shook her head, gazing back and forth across his face. "It's not – I don't just want to die, Martin." But she did. She knew it now.
"It's true, no matter how crazy bad it was today, no matter how much I wanted to get away from those disgusting men?" She broke off, needing to see him understand her.
She looked up at Martin. His eyes were on the ceiling. His hand caressed her hair. He nodded, listening. He wouldn't look at her.
"Martin? The worst thing today, the worst thing—it was the thought of dying with someone else's hands on me." She reached up, touched his face, took his hand, kissed his fingers, and rested them on her throat. She wouldn't take her eyes off him.
"Oh, baby." Martin turned to her and kissed her, holding her gently, caressing her, pulling her closer, tasting her, deeper kisses now, feeling her body respond. He undressed her, he pulled off his clothes. They made love. Martin's hands moved all over her body, petting, stroking, gripping her, drawing her into him. Several times his hands found their way back to her throat, pressing lightly, but then they drifted to her shoulders, to her breasts, to her back. Allie and Martin moved together slowly, murmuring, moaning, softly. Finally, she whispered, "Now."
"God, Allie." He crushed her against his chest, shaking his head. "Any way you like," He'd promised her. Now all Martin wanted was Allie, alive. He was a fool.
His hands were on her throat again. His teeth would finish her, Allie knew it. She wanted them. She wanted to give him everything. She was so sure.
She spoke one word. "Please." And then he nodded. And his fingers tightened and he took her. Martin covered her mouth with his. He loved every bit of her. Martin moaned, his tears wet on her face. And then it ended. Martin captured Allie's last breath.