Blood Games

    Abilene took a sip of tequila. ‘We never should’ve come to a place like this.’

    ‘It was Helen’s pick.’

    ‘We didn’t have to go along with it.’

    ‘Sure we did. That was the deal. Besides, nobody knew what was going to happen. And if we’d gone somewhere different, she might’ve gotten killed anyway. No place is safe. We might’ve had a head-on, and all gotten wiped out.’

    ‘Coming here is what did it, though.’

    Finley took the bottle from her, tilted it up and drank. ‘Sooner or later, something was bound to happen. Five gals going around looking for adventure.’

    ‘Yeah.’

    ‘Looking for trouble. Taking all kinds of risks. The surprising thing is that nobody ever nailed any of us till now.’

    ‘We were pretty lucky.’

    ‘Damn lucky.’

    ‘I guess the luck stopped here.’

    ‘For Helen, it sure did.’

    They were silent for a while. They passed the bottle back and forth. It was Finley who finally capped it. ‘Don’t want get so polluted I miss my chance to waste Hank,’ she said. ‘Gotta buy him a farm.’

    ‘We gotta keep alert,’ Abilene agreed. She was feeling a bit numb.

    ‘I used to keep a lert. Had a little cage for it. They make damn fine pets.’

    ‘Wonder if we oughta head on down, see what’s happening?’

    ‘Left my camera down there.’ She leaned forward, braced her elbows on her knees, and hung her head. ‘Guess it doesn’t matter. The epic’s all done. Gone with the fuckin’ wind. Never even got around to adding last year’s stuff. Figured it’d just remind everyone of… what I did with that surfer guy. As if they need reminding. Shit. And now… nobody’ll ever want to look at the thing again. Me included. Wouldn’t be able to stand it. Daring Young Maids. Minus one. Maybe I’ll bum the whole fuckin’ thing.’

    ‘Naw. Don’t.’ She patted Finley’s back. ‘We might wanta see it again. Someday. Just to see how we used to be.’

    ‘Maybe won’t be any of us left to watch it, anyhow. Just be a bunch of dead gals on the thing.’

    ‘Cut it out. We’ll be fine.’

    ‘Sure.’

    ‘Come on, let’s go on down with the others.’ Abilene stood

    on the bumper, jumped to the driveway and staggered forward, waving her arms for balance. She managed, just barely, to stay on her feet. She turned around carefully. ‘Rough waters,’ she said.

    Finley didn’t jump. Instead, she lowered her legs and slid down the front of the car until her feet found the pavement. She stood up straight. She wobbled a bit. ‘I’m afraid we’d better not attempt to descend the treacherous dri…’

    ‘They’re gonna save us the trouble,’ Abilene interrupted as the others appeared at the bottom of the slope.

    Jim was carrying Cora piggy-back. A good trick, Abilene thought. A very good trick, especially since he had a leg injury himself and Cora must outweigh him by twenty or thirty pounds. But he seemed to be doing just fine.

    Cora kept her right arm across the top of Jim’s chest to hold herself tight against his back. She gripped the water bottle in her left hand. Both her legs were hugging Jim’s hips. He held them there, hands hooked beneath her knees. Her dangling feet swayed. Her right ankle was wrapped with an Ace bandage, and the splints were gone.

    Jim looked as if he might lose his cut-offs. Heavy with water, supported by the single rope, they sagged at such an angle that Abilene could see matted pubic hair. The crease at the side of his groin showed, too. He paused a moment, huffing, then resumed his trudge up the slope.

    Vivian walked behind the pair, carrying the shotgun and Finley’s camera. Her clinging white polo shirt was nearly transparent. The two belts that had been used to secure Cora’s splints hung across her chest like bandoliers. Abilene’s blouse was tucked under the waistband of her shorts.

    ‘You got everything?’ Abilene called.

    ‘No thanks to you two,’ Cora said.

    ‘You could’ve waited for us.’

    ‘We did. We figured you weren’t coming back.’

    ‘Just on our way,’ Finley said, coming over to Abilene’s side and flinging an arm across her shoulders. With her other hand, she waved the bottle at them.

    Cora, her face bobbing above Jim’s head, frowned at them. ‘Are you two drunk?’

    ‘Had a few wee sips,’ Abilene said.

    ‘We’re perfectly fine ’n dandy,’ Finley added.

    ‘Terrific,’ Cora muttered.

    Abilene stepped out of Jim’s way and took the water bottle from Cora’s hand.

    Finley met Vivian and took the camera.

    Where the pavement leveled out in front of the car, Jim eased Cora down. She clung to him and stood on her left leg. Abilene, hurrying forward to help, saw a patchwork of Bandaids on her neck and back and shoulder. The worst of the scratches and bites were covered.

    She set down the water bottle and clutched Cora beneath the armpits. With Jim’s help, she lowered her friend to the concrete.

    He pulled up his drooping cut-offs, then bent over and held his knees as he struggled to catch his breath.

    ‘I’ll have some of that,’ Cora said, reaching up toward Finley.

    ‘Don’ overdo it,’ Finley warned, and gave her the bottle. ‘Moderation in all things. Thas the secret to a long ’n happy life.’

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN