Blood Games

    After the night of Finley’s escapade, Helen had taken showers frequently. Not always with Abilene, but always with someone. Often, she’d returned dry, having turned back after discovering the shower room to be deserted. Better to wait than to risk the lights going off, an extra hand touching her in the dark.

    Later, during the three years when they all share a rented house on Summer Street, she hadn’t insisted on having a companion in the tub with her. She hadn’t even asked. It would’ve been tight quarters, for one thing. She’d admitted it. And she’d always locked herself in the bathroom.

    Even last night at the Wayfarer’s Haven in Burlington, Helen had insisted that either Abilene or Finley remain in the room while she bathed. Abilene had stayed behind. Finley had gone ahead without her to have drinks and snacks in the room shared by Cora and Vivian.

    So she was a young woman pursued by terror, and yet here she was, putting on a show of bravado about the more immediate threat of running into a stranger in a desolate lodge in the middle of nowhere.

    Well, Abilene thought, there are five of us. She damn sure wouldn’t be acting this way if she were alone.

    But Abilene wondered if any of this was real to Helen. The phantom hand in the shower room had been very real. Whenever Helen was in the midst of an adventure, however, she behaved as if she considered the dangers imaginary. As if she were a character in a movie or something, and nothing bad could actually happen to her.

    As Abilene entered the kitchen behind Cora and Helen, she realized that Helen wasn’t the only one with a carefree attitude about the adventures.

    Finley, too, seemed cheerfully reckless.

    In Finley’s case, however, it was more than empty bravado. The girl was audacious, intrepid to the bone.

CHAPTER FOUR

BELMORE GIRLS

    ‘Now let’s calm down, everyone,’ Finley said as Cora grabbed the front of her tank top and yanked her up.

    ‘No need for violence,’ she said as Cora drove her across the room and rammed her back against a wall between two of the showers.

    ‘Is my camera okay?’ she asked as Cora clutched her throat.

    Abilene had picked it up.

    She located Cora and Finley in the viewfinder. ‘I guess it’s all right,’ she said.

    ‘Then tape this,’ Cora said, and punched Finley in the stomach.

    The girl’s eyes bugged out. Her mouth sprang open. Her shoulders lurched off the wall as she bent at the waist, her neck thrusting against Cora’s hand.

    ‘Hey!’ Abilene snapped. ‘Don’t.’

    ‘Quit it!’ Vivian cried out. ‘For Godsake!’

    ‘Leave her alone,’ Abilene said.

    Finley, pinned to the wall, wheezed for air. Her face was twisted with pain.

    ‘Let go of her,’ Abilene said.

    Cora dropped her hand. The girl leaned forward, rump against the wall, and hugged her belly.

    ‘What’s the big idea, huh?’ Cora asked.

    ‘What are you, a pervert?’

    Finley shook her head. She gasped something that sounded like, ‘Ontra.’

    ‘What?’

    ‘Let her catch her breath,’ Vivian said.

    They waited. At last, Finley stopped holding herself, stood up straight, and said, ‘Entrepreneur.’

    ‘What?’

    ‘It means she…’

    ‘I know what it means,’ Cora said, casting an annoyed glance at Vivian.

    ‘This guy… he offered me two hundred bucks.’

    To film us taking showers? ’

    ‘Videotape, actually. For his VCR.’

    Cora didn’t bother to dry. She didn’t bother to put on her robe. Stark naked, twisting Finley’s arm, she guided the girl out of the shower room and dressing room, past the toilet stalls and sinks, and through the door to the hallway.

    Abilene dried herself as fast as possible. Helen, flushed with excitement, didn’t bother to towel off. She struggled to pull the nightgown down her wet body, and finally succeeded. The fabric looked transparent where it clung to her skin. Abilene put on her robe, picked up her toilet articles and lifted the camera. Vivian, who’d also taken time to dry, belted her own robe, then gathered her possessions along with the robe, towel, and other things that Cora had left behind.

    The three of them rushed into the corridor.

    Helen carried the gorilla mask. It swung from her fist, dripping, like a severed head fresh from the guillotine.

    Several other girls stood around, looking perplexed. Some were peering into the room Vivian shared with Cora. It looked as if Cora had caused quite a stir, hustling by with her prisoner.

    Those who asked questions were answered with a brusk, ‘Never mind’ from Vivian. Who shut the door and locked it after Helen and Abilene were inside.

    Finley sat on one of the beds, regarding her captors with a quizzical look.

    Cora loomed over her, hands on hips. She was shiny and dripping. Her buttocks were red from the fall she’d taken trying to apprehend the girl. Vivian held out her robe. She snatched it away. Muttering ‘Thanks,’ she shoved her arms through the sleeves.

    ‘I hope this isn’t going to get ugly,’ Finley said.

    ‘Depends on how you look at death,’ Cora told her.

    ‘I must inform you, there’s a letter in my safety deposit box with instructions to be opened in the event of my demise.’