All the Pretty Dead Girls Part 21

They had drunk her blood.

They were drinking blood out there. Two phrases had floated down to Tish's ears quite clearly: "Take this and drink" and "The blood is our life." It had taken Tish a long time to decipher what they were saying, but now it was clear. Each person said it in turn. Each time she heard it, Tish retched.

The horrible truth had dawned on her. They were pa.s.sing around a cup and drinking the blood of girls they had killed.

But they're keeping me alive. Why?

Twice every day, the red-robed figure brought Tish bread, vegetables, and water. They're keeping me alive, They're keeping me alive, Tish reasoned, Tish reasoned, so they can kill me, too, when the time is ready. so they can kill me, too, when the time is ready.

And drink my blood.

They probably expected her to go mad in her cell. And who wouldn't, trapped in this place, so small, so dark? The only light filtered through the small slats above her head, a dim, dusty, golden light that allowed Tish to make out the rough contours of her hands, of the metal pail she used as a toilet, and the walls that enclosed her. Crawling around the earthen floor, Tish had estimated her cell was almost square, about five feet by five feet. No bigger than a closet. They expected she'd go mad in such a small s.p.a.ce. They expected her to lose her mind, so when her time came, she wouldn't be able to fight them, wouldn't be able to put up a last-ditch defense of her life.

Well, Tish though to herself, Tish though to herself, they're wrong they're wrong. They hadn't reckoned on dealing with a strong-willed Southern girl. They hadn't reckoned on dealing with a strong-willed Southern girl.

She kept her wits by thinking. Constantly thinking. Listening for sounds, and identifying them. That's a refrigerator coming on above me, That's a refrigerator coming on above me, she realized. she realized. That's the creak of a floorboard. That's the opening of a door. That's the creak of a floorboard. That's the opening of a door. She learned to listen so carefully that she could determine how many people were in the house, walking above her, each of their footsteps having a different sound. She learned to listen so carefully that she could determine how many people were in the house, walking above her, each of their footsteps having a different sound.

And she listened for voices. Some she didn't know, but she forced herself to listen and examine each one. She identified four.

Dean Gregory. Mrs. Gregory. Nurse Cochrane. And that new woman on the board of trustees, Nancy Wallison, who'd spoken to Tish's civics cla.s.s just last month...

Joelle had been right. They were all in on it-whatever "it" was.

There was a familiar creak outside the locked iron door. Tish's ears perked. She knew what it was, and the rumble in her stomach confirmed it. She was like a caged animal whose body had come to expect food every day at the same time. It was mealtime for Tish. The red-robed figure was descending the stairs into the bas.e.m.e.nt. Tish counted off the seconds in her mind, and right on schedule came the second sound, when the figure jangled its keys outside the door.

In seconds, the iron door was swinging open, and the figure, robed and hooded, its face always hidden, carried a tray in.

The figure never spoke, but Tish had learned to study it carefully. By now, because Tish had reverted to silence, they must have thought she was mad. But her mind was clicking away, storing away any data that might prove useful later.

Whoever's under that robe moves slowly, Tish thought. Stout. Maybe even fat. I could outrun it given the chance.

The figure placed the tray on the floor. Tish bent over it, eating the bread like a dog might, tearing it apart with her teeth, not using her hands. All the better to make them think she had regressed.

The figure bent-with some difficulty, Tish noticed-to retrieve the pail. Tish watched as the figure left the cell, clanging the door behind. Tish took a sip of water from the large mug that had been brought to her. She knew it took only a few seconds for the figure to return with the pail, having emptied it presumably in some nearby toilet. If Tish were ever to make a move, it would have to be when the figure came back through the door at that point. That would take it the most by surprise. But how?

For now, Tish decided to bide her time, but she couldn't wait much longer. Who knows when they planned to make her their next victim?

The figure came back inside. Instead of setting the pail back down as it normally did, it stood over Tish for a moment looking down at her.

Tish, playing crazy, looked up at the figure with animal eyes.

"Pitiful s.l.u.t," the figure spoke, the first time Tish had heard its voice. "Useless creature."

Then the figure set the pail down on the floor and left the room, clanging the door shut behind.

And Tish, her ears so sharply attuned, knew immediately who was under that robe.

Oostie.

Their good matron, Mrs. Oosterhouse.

Immediately, Tish had to pee. That often happened after drinking. As she pulled down her ratty, dirty jeans to squat over the pail, she felt encouraged.

I could take Oostie, she thought. she thought. I could totally take out Oostie. I could totally take out Oostie.

But then she felt something sharp sticking in her thigh. She winced, looking down. One end of the pail's metal handle was coming loose. In the very dim light, Tish studied it. It broke off in her hands. Its edge was sharp-very sharp. Just a slight touch to her fingertip had drawn blood.

With a little effort, she secured the handle back to the side of the pail. It might come undone again, but she thought it would hold long enough for Oostie to carry it out of the room to dump it one more time.

But it would also serve as a weapon-a very sharp weapon-providing Tish was fast enough and strong enough.

And she had every intention of making sure she was.

31.

Billy Honeycutt looked at his watch. Sue was late for their date.

He was sitting on a bench in the center of town. It was getting close to five, and Sue had promised to be there by four thirty. Billy hated the fact that he couldn't just pick her up on campus. Those archaic rules of Wilbourne prohibited visitors except during very specified hours, and then only on weekends. Every minute Sue was late cut into the time they could spend together, given that the campus curfew was nine o'clock on a weekday night.

Billy sighed. He liked Sue. Liked her a lot, in fact. But he had thought dating a college girl would be a little more glamorous than it was. When he was dating Heidi, he was the Big Man at Lebanon High, strolling around town with his arm around her. Heidi was considered the foxiest girl in Lebanon, and Billy had nabbed her.

And now here he was, sitting on a bench all by himself in the middle of the afternoon.

Still, Sue was a breath of fresh air to him. Heidi would pout if Billy didn't kiss her right away. She was always trying to out-wh.o.r.e her friends by wearing short shirts to expose her belly b.u.t.ton, pretending to be Britney. But Sue seemed oblivious to the whole game of s.e.x. Billy liked s.e.x-no question about that-but Sue was sophisticated. She came from Manhattan. For her, Billy reasoned, s.e.x was just part of the mix. It came when it was supposed to. No need to flaunt it.

Billy liked that. Call him old-fashioned maybe. But he'd always felt pressure to measure up with Heidi. To be the c.o.c.k of the walk. Sometimes she'd insist on making out-and to be honest, Billy really would have preferred to be watching the Yankees on television. Not that he didn't like s.e.x-not that he didn't often initiate it himself-always making sure to rea.s.sure Heidi that he loved her-but sometimes he didn't want her around, would have preferred she and her big b.r.e.a.s.t.s stayed out of his sight for a while. Heidi, of course, could always tell when he wasn't really into it, and she'd flee from the room in tears, wailing that he didn't love her anymore. Billy would be forced to follow her and profess his undying love.

It was such a relief not to have to go through all that charade anymore.

Heidi hadn't taken the breakup well. "You've been lying all along, Billy Honeycutt!" she charged. "You've been stringing me along and lying about loving me and using me only for s.e.x!"

Billy just sighed. None of that kind of drama with Sue, thank G.o.d.

He looked at his watch again. 5:01. Where was she?

He hoped she hadn't gotten another one of those headaches. When she'd described it to him, Billy had been really worried. "That's just not normal, Sue," he told her. She agreed, but the campus doctor, when she went in to see him, had given her a clean bill of health. So maybe the headache had just been a fluke.

Sue was smart. She was fun. She made Billy feel like a grown-up. He didn't have to preen or pose. He didn't need to put on a show for her. She seemed to like him just for who he was. They talked about movies, and politics, and where they hoped to travel someday. Sue never made Billy feel stupid when he mixed up cities, states, and countries. (He thought Oregon was a city and San Diego was in Mexico, and he got all mixed up when it came to European countries.) Heidi would have laughed at him and called him a dolt. But Sue just explained the difference, and told him one day she'd really enjoy showing him Paris. Especially something she called the Shomp Deelasay. Billy smiled thinking about it, about walking hand-in-hand with Sue down the streets of Paris.

"Well, h.e.l.lo, Billy."

He jumped. Behind him, arms akimbo, was Heidi.

"Oh, hey," he said, danger signs flashing in his mind.

"Waiting for your new girl? Or is she standing you up?"

He frowned. "She is not standing me up."

"I came by half an hour ago and saw you sitting here. And you're still still here now." here now."

"So? A guy can't sit on a bench on a nice day?"

Heidi made a face. "Not a guy like you. Why aren't you at football practice?"

"It's a day off. Besides, it's none of your business."

Suddenly, Heidi broke out into tears. "Oh, Billy," she cried, throwing her arms around him. "This is such a mistake! We should be together!"

Her bouncy b.r.e.a.s.t.s, barely covered by a seersucker top, pressed up into Billy's face. Heidi clung to him, her long blond hair tickling his ear.

"Let go, Heidi," Billy told her.

He pushed her arms away from him, but she moved in closer, trying to kiss him on the lips. Her perfume filled up his nostrils.

"Jesus, Heidi," Billy said, managing to finally push her away. And just as he did so, he saw Sue sitting in her car across the street, watching the whole scene.

"f.u.c.k," he said, standing up.

Heidi saw Sue as well. "Is that her? Is that Miss f.u.c.king Wilbourne?"

Billy watched as the two girls made eye contact. Sue seemed to be glaring at Heidi as she sat behind the wheel of her white Lexus. She seemed to be in no hurry to get out. She didn't seem the least bit upset, or eager to interrupt this little scene. She seemed intensely interested. Of course Sue was far too cool, far too sophisticated, far too Manhattan to react, to act like a spoiled, provincial little girl. She just kept glaring at Heidi until Heidi stamped her foot, shouted "f.u.c.k you both!" and hurried off down the street.

Only then did Sue get out of the car.

32.

Sue felt a strange emotion watching Billy with that girl.

Jealousy.

She'd never felt jealous over a boy before. Sure, she'd felt jealous of friends who got to vacation in some exotic place her grandparents refused to take her, and sometimes she'd be jealous of a girl's new shoes or really fabulous bag. But those were momentary feelings-they'd pa.s.sed in a few minutes. This was raw. This was intense. Sue felt like scratching the girl's eyes out.

Stop acting like a stereotypical female, she scolded herself as she got out of the car. The girl was rushing away down the street. Billy clearly wasn't interested in her. she scolded herself as she got out of the car. The girl was rushing away down the street. Billy clearly wasn't interested in her.

Or maybe he was.

Maybe he was, until he saw me.

Sue struggled to keep her emotions in check as she crossed the street.

Who the h.e.l.l was that girl anyway?

"Hey, pretty lady," Billy called.

Sue smiled and let him kiss her on the cheek. "What was all that about?"

Billy scowled. "Ex-girlfriend."

Sue looked down the street to where Heidi was now just a small, pitiful figure in the distance. She was trying to get Billy back, She was trying to get Billy back, Sue thought. Sue thought. She was trying to take him away from me! She was trying to take him away from me!

And despite herself, she felt a surge of jealous anger. Once again, she couldn't take her eyes off the girl.

"Sue," Billy said, touching her shoulder. "Don't worry. She means nothing to me now."

Sue turned back to look him in the eye. "Just how many broken hearts have you left in your wake, Billy Honeycutt?"

"Not that many." He winked at her. "I know, hard to believe, given how good-looking I am."

He laughed, but she didn't return his levity. There was a voice whispering inside her head, They slept together. They slept together.

She swallowed and closed her eyes. Images began flashing through her mind, horrible snapshots she didn't want to see.

A warm summer night, with the moonlight shining into the backseat of Billy's mother's Toyota. Billy and that girl-Heidi, that's her name-are making out. They are parked on a dirt road, and the scent of apples is in the air. On either side of the road, branches hang heavy with the unripened fruit. Both Billy and Heidi are shirtless. His head is down, nuzzling at one of the girl's large b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Her head is tilted back, her eyes are closed, and soft moans are coming from low in her throat. With his hands, Billy is working the clasp of her shorts. Just as the shorts come open, she reaches down and pushes his hands away from her.

"What's the matter?" Billy asks.

"I-I'm not ready for that yet."

"Aw, come on, Heidi." He grabs one of her hands and places it on the swollen crotch of his jean shorts. "You feel that?"

She pulls her hand away and sits up. "Billy-"

"I don't see what the big deal is."

"The big deal is you don't love me."

"Of course I love you, Heidi." He's lying to her, he doesn't love her, but his need is so powerful, his desire for release is so urgent, that he will say anything, do anything, to get inside of her and relieve his need.

She turns to him. She's a virgin. Not because of a deep commitment to saving herself, to keeping her purity, but because she's never felt in love enough to give herself so completely to any boy she's ever dated. But Billy-Billy is different.

"Do you really love me, Billy?" she asks.

He takes both of her hands in his and looks deep into her eyes. "Of course I love you, Heidi. I never say anything I don't mean." And then he kisses her.

And she stops resisting him.