Chapter 14
It was a low structure, built strongly, blending in color with the surrounding murk. Dex did not see it till he was only a few feet away. A few scrawny trees brushed the shingle roof with cobweb branches. They went around the building and Holiman scratched a match and fitted a key into a hasp lock. The door swung open with loud squeakings. It smelled musty inside.
"They's a lantern" Holiman said. Someone found it and the chimney scraped up. Holiman put a match to the wick and Dex looked round the room curiously. The light came up slowly, yellow and flickering. It was a small hut, ten by ten, he thought. There were some tools and boxes about the sides of the place, the puncheon floor was dirty and littered; there were two chairs and a bench, and a table next to the only window which was covered with cloth. One of the men went over and covered it with still another scrap of cloth.
"Where we gonna screw?" Dex asked.
"Get the mattress down," a man said. They looked up, and Dex saw a dusty mattress fastened to the open ceiling joists. Holiman stood silently as the other two men climbed on the chairs and heaved it down.
"Dusty as hell," Luther growled.
"Well, Jesus," Holiman said, "we ain't got no fuckin' four poster bed-" They laughed, all three of them, and Dex tested the mattress. It felt mouldy. One of the men pulled a blanket from somewhere and spread it on the dust.
"Lock the door, Wormy," Holiman said. The man pushed a heavy bar across it. The man called Wormy was taller and thinner than Holiman, about the same age. The third man sat on the end of the bench and lit the stub of a cigar, looking at Brenda.
Luther held out his hand for the money.
"Yeah," Holiman said. He produced a five spot and collected ten dollars from the other two and handed it over solemnly. "Too bad we ain't got no music, we got whisky though." He pointed and the third man reached behind him and came up with a dusty bottle.
"Give 'em all a drink, Harry."
Harry unscrewed the cap and smelled the contents. He passed the bottle to Luther who swallowed a quick one and gave it to Brenda. She passed it to Dex without drinking. Dex drank a quick snort of fire and passed it to Wormy.
"All right," Holiman drawled. "Now le's see you fuck th' gal, boy."
Dex nodded, looking at Brenda. She began to strip without a word. Holiman and the others whistled, seeing her without the bra.
"It's cold in here," she said.
"It'll warm up, you git on your back," Wormy said.
"I'll warm 'em-" Harry offered.
Dex shucked his shirt and pants. The old cock wasn't but half hard. The situation didn't excite him. Hard-eyed men drinking from a bottle, watching him and measuring the naked girl. The skimpy light bathed her, creating deep shadows under breasts and along her sides. He could see the tiny little goose-bumps on her arms and thighs.
"Shit," Wormy said, "you ain't hard 'nough t'corn-hole a sheep-"
Brenda turned toward him and reached for the cock. She smiled slightly, taking it in her hand and squeezing it tightly.
"I c'n feel it," Wormy said, giggling.
Brenda glanced over her shoulder and wriggled her bare fanny. Harry clapped his hands: "Yeh, lookit that li'l thing a-winkin' at me-"
"Hurry up'n git it hard," Holiman said. "I wanna see you hit bottom."
She had it hard now, not as hard as it could get, but hard. Dex stood, pushing it into her hand, hands on hips. He tried not to look at the men. They were smoking, smacking their lips over the booze, chuckling and shuffling their feet. Luther sat quietly in a corner waiting.
She let go of it and, as Dex stood perfectly still, rubbed her body against it with a lithe dancing movement. Dex could see their eyes, they liked the way she moved; they didn't miss a single twitch. The cock bobbed around fleshily. She laughed at them, turning about and rubbing her bare bottom against it, waggling her titties. They were so close they could reach out and touch them-and Holiman did. He flapped at them idly with the back of his hand.
"Them's better'n the ol' woman, hey Wormy?"
"Shit yeh." Wormy sat down on the floor and craned his neck forward, looking hard at her pussy. Brenda parted her thighs for him and writhed it, looking down.
Wormy stuck his hand up and a finger went into her. Brenda gasped and Luther growled. Wormy chuckled, diddled the finger an instant and withdrew it, wet. He licked it as the others laughed. "Oh, 'at tastes like turkey!"
She gave him a warning look and a nod. When she sat down on the mattress, Dex followed her closely. She parted her legs and he was between them, thrusting with the cock. The three men leaned forward. Silence descended, then he could hear the tiny sounds of wet flesh as his dong buried itself. She sucked in her breath and pulled at him. He fucked it in hard, long strokes, long strokes-Jesus, it felt good.
He tried to forget them, lunging hard, ramming her. She was responding hotly. The mattress rocked and he could smell the dust they raised. He was panting a little. When he glanced up he was surprised at the intensity of their stares. The whites showed all around Harry's pupils. Wormy moved the lantern closer.
Someone tossed the empty bottle into a corner where it crashed and splintered. No one cared.
"How's zat feel, honey?" Holiman asked.
Brenda giggled. "Yummy-"
"He hittin' bottom?"
She shook her head.
"Poke 'er harder, boy-"
Dex ignored the advice. He worked busily, trying to fix his mind on the money in Luther's trailer. There might be as much as a thousand dollars in that cache. That much money would take him anywhere he wanted to go. Anywhere in the world.
But without Brenda. He buried his face in her silky neck, feeling her respond frantically. He was getting to her. He could tell. And so could the men watching. Dex could hear their breathing, harder, faster. They were excited by the naked act. He was making her come.
She shuddered suddenly, gulping air.
"At's a boy-feed it to 'er-"
"Shit, lookit 'er wiggle!"
Brenda bucked wantonly, eyes half-closed, gritting her teeth in the grip of the orgasm. Dex kept the friction steady, meeting her struggles and loving her, holding her warmly, making sure she got all of it. The show was all hers-she was what they wanted to see after all. He made sure they saw a beautiful girl in the full bloom of erotic delight.
She moaned aloud, tossing her head. Dex heard Wormy squeal in delight. The man's hand thrust between them, grasping her naked breast. Harry chuckled and Holiman was clearing his throat: "Go at it, boy-"
He tapered her off, keeping her just at the right spot of bliss-the thought crossed his mind that he was good at it, he knew her now. She was subsiding slowly, breathing hard. He tried to brush Wormy's hand away, but the man was fondling her busily.
"All right," Luther said from the corner, "That's about it-"
They ignored him: "Go on, boy, give her another-"
Dex looked down her quivering body. He hadn't shot it yet and slapped his bare ass.
"Shoot 'er wi' that thing, g'wan-give it to 'er."
Dex nodded, pushing it in and getting up to rhythm again. Wormy was crouching close now, his hot breath hissing:"Goddam, Luke, gonna shoot it in m'pants!"
Holiman pushed the lantern closer, leering as Brenda opened her eyes, looking up at him. "How wazzat?"
She sighed, holding Dex tightly, paying no attention to Wormy's fondling. Dex thrust deeply, hotly. It was on its way-on its way-only a minute more!
He scooped her up, pounding, battering, hearing her intake of breath feeling her fingers curling around his upper arms. Someone slapped his rump again and again, they were chuckling and urging him on. And he made it. It welled up and fountained, gushing and throbbing. Dex moaned, driving himself at her, sprawling, pounding, convulsing.
"Oh lordy," Harry said, "I seen a bull go after it like 'at-"
"Pull 'im off," Holiman said thickly.
Hands yanked at him and Dex elbowed them. The cock was still spitting, pulsating. But he was weak, at a terrible disadvantage. They yanked him suddenly and he rolled off, the cock splashed out wetly, still hard; Brenda yelled, threshing. Dex heard Luther's yell.
"Let 'imbe--! "
The room was suddenly silent except for the hard breathing. Dex looked around. Holiman and the two others were looking round at Luther. Luther had a pistol.
"That's all," Luther said. "Ged up, Dex. Get 'er up. Come on-come on-"
"Well now, wait a minute," Holiman said. "We paid for this here show-"
'Th' show's over. You had your show."
Dex was on his knees, still between her splayed legs. Brenda looked up, looked at Luther with wide eyes. Her hair was tousled, face flushed. She was beautiful.
"Stay right there," Luther said, moving the pistol slightly. Harry had moved slowly to his right. "Come on for Crissake-"
Dex took a breath and began to stand.
The lantern went out. There was a whoosh of breath and they were in inky blackness.
For an instant Dex remained, half erect, startled. Then he ducked down again, fast. He fell on Brenda, trying to cover her with his body, protect her. Someone hit him. In that instant he heard Luther yell, heard a shot. Then bright lights dazzled him, a searing pain spread across his brain, the lights smeared and blackness reached for him.
He didn't feeL them roll him off the whimpering girl.
The room was silent.
"What about it?" Holiman asked.
"Got 'im," Wormy said. "Lite a match."
Holiman scraped a match and in the flaring glow, could see that Luther was prone. Wormy had the pistol. He lit the lantern again.
"Nize work. Whad you hit 'im with?"
"Chunk o' iron." Wormy bent and examined the man. "Jesis, he's coldern a bear's ass."
Brenda screamed. She struggled to free herself from Holiman's grasp. Harry jumped to hold her. Between them they powered her to the mattress. Harry pushed hard and Dex rolled off the mattress to the cold floor. Holiman thrust his knee between hers. In another second he was on her.
"Hoi' her goddam legs-"
Wormy ran to help. The three of them held her while Holiman got his cock out and put it into her. He grinned, fucking her. She was crying, turning her head from the stink of his sweat.
Holiman lasted only a few minutes. Wormy was next, breathing hard, burying his swollen penis, driving it madly.
She barely moved when Harry slid into her lustfully. They didn't have to hold her. She was limp and unresponsive.
She barely moved when Harry slid into her lustfully. They didn't have to hold her. She was limp and unresponsive. Harry cursed her, but she bit her lower lip and closed her eyes.
"Shit, like bootin' a handful o' liver-"
Dex groaned and Holiman motioned to Wormy. They wrapped a length of rope about his hands and knotted it. Holiman went to look at Luther. He scratched a match and looked carefully, frowning. He turned the head this way and that. Wormy joined him, frowning at the prone man.
"I think he dead," Holiman said softly.
Wormy felt for a pulse, his face white in the gloom. "Jesus, I don't feel nothin'. "
"Le's git her outa here. Take 'er over to the mill. They's no one there, won't be till Monday."
"Why the mill?"
Holiman lowered his voice. "They's food an' heat there, and it's outa the way. We'll lock 'er in and come back for this'n."
"Jesus, you mean git rid o' him?"
Holiman pulled at his collar. "W'at the fuck else we do?"
"How 'bout him?" Wormy indicated the unconscious Dex.
"We'll figger that out later." Holiman frowned at Harry, still pronging the girl. "These here people is trash anyways, ain't no one gonna miss 'em. A whore an' two drifters." He smiled at the other. "Trash."
They put clothes on her, and a gag about her head so she couldn't speak. Wormy and Harry gathered her up like a sack of meal and carted her out, stepping over Luther.
Holiman looked around, blew out the lantern and followed them. He locked the door on the outside.
L'Envoi
When Dex came to he was cold. His teeth were chattering. He was off the mattress, and his hands were tied. It was pitch black in the hut.
The rope was little problem. It was rotted and gave way to continued tugging. Dex felt for the mattress and sat on it, blinking. He remembered where his clothes had been and patted his hands, searching for them, and found them. As he dressed he became increasingly afraid for Brenda.
He could smell the coal oil, and felt for matches. Lighting one, he pushed up the chimney and lighted the wick. The lantern was still warm. He hadn't been out long then.
When he rose, he saw Luther.
Luther was dead. Dex squatted by the body; there was no pulse, and the body was cooling. Moving the lantern, he could see a terrible opening over Luther's left temple. It didn't bleed. He leaned against the wall, hands trembling. Luther was dead. He felt cold as hell.
Brenda.
He tried the door, knowing it would be locked. Forcing himself to think, he realized they would be back. He had to be gone when they returned. They hadn't made up their minds about him, so they'd left him. When they returned, they might have decided to kill him.
The window was boarded up, but he punched out the boards with a two-by-four. Where the hell would they have taken Brenda? It could be anywhere. He left the lantern burning and climbed out the window. Probably they wouldn't take her to the hotel.
He went back, trying to remember the way they had come, finally hearing the sound of a truck on the highway following the sound. They could have taken Brenda anywhere. Anywhere within a hundred miles, and there must be some fine hiding places. He felt awful. Luther's death weighed on him. He had liked Luther, even as he had cussed him. They'd take Brenda somewhere and keep her maybe. Keep her and fuck her. Maybe make a captive out of her, feed her and screw her. He kicked the dirt viciously.
By the time he reached the hotel he knew he had to get away from them. How could they let him live? He knew they had killed Luther.
They weren't at the hotel, he was sure. He stared at it, went around it and back, keeping out of sight. It was late and no one was about. The pick-up and the trailer were still parked where Luther had left them. Dex was sure they hadn't come back to the hotel. They'd have moved the rig first thing. He crept to it and opened the door. The key was in the ignition.
He shut the door and pushed the starter. He was a mile down the road before he turned the lights on.
He couldn't seem to think straight.
Brenda. Where the hell was she? They had her, sure, he knew that. But where? If he kept going this way he was getting further from her every second. But he couldn't stop. They would kill him. He knew it.
When he came to the first crossroads he scanned the signs and took the road to Beeson. Luther was dead. It was hard to believe. Luther was dead and now he had the pick-up and trailer.
The trailer.
He blinked, and looked back. He had the trailer and no one was around. At the first f opportunity he slowed and parked the pick-up on the side of the road. He went back to the trailer. It took him twenty minutes to find Luther's money.
It took him ten minutes to count it, all in small bills; with shaking fingers. Nearly three thousand dollars! He sat and looked at it. A fortune. A goddam fortun!
He had money at last! He spread it out on the bed and feasted his eyes on it. All the delicious green of it. He arranged it just so, the tens here, the fives there, the twenties-Jesus! He had money!
A car went past on the road.
Dex jumped and came out of the cash-reverie. He stuffed the bills back into their bag, then jumped up and stared out the door. There was no one in sight. The road stretched lonely and bleak in both directions. The car had disappeared too quickly, maybe it had turned off. He hid the money again and ran to the cab.
As he pulled onto the road, his head was filled with rushing thoughts, what he would buy, where he would go, the difference the money would make. No, he mustn't spend it all, he should make it work for him. But what was the use of having dough if you couldn't spend it, buy the stuff you wanted? Hell, he'd buy a few things, save some of it.
He could sure buy a lot of stuff for Brenda--he cocked his head at the road. Well, Brenda was a great lay and all, but now he could have any dame. He had dough. He could afford a couple dames, at the same time. That was a crazy fuck, two dames at the same time!
Suddenly he didn't mind so much going away from Brenda.
He began to whistle.
In an hour he came around a bend and ran into the road-block.
The pick-up was doing sixty-five. He swerved and hit the brakes, then he saw that he could get through. They had arranged some saw-horses across the road, but it was just a token block. There were three guys in brown uniforms, all three waving at him to stop.
His heart was pounding. What the hell were cops doing here? They were waiting for him! He jammed the gas pedal down and hunched over the wheel, seeing one of the cops scuttling out of the way. He heard a crack as if someone had fired at him. There was a cop car parked at the side of the road. It had a white sign on the side panel: Brake Check, Beeson Police Dept.
Dex didn't see the sign.
He didn't feel the shot that hit him. The pick-up careened wildly, slammed into the saw-horses with a shattering crash and slithered off the road and turned over.
The cops ran to the car, one shouted for an ambulance. The wheels of the pick-up were still spinning. The first cop to reach the cab sidled up to it and peeked inside. Then he went boldly to the window and reached in to feel the wrist of the man behind the wheel.
"We won't need no doc," he said.