Blood Games

    The rain didn’t come and the air seemed hotter, muggier than ever as they made their way through the forest. Abilene felt as if she were hiking through a sauna. After a while, Cora peeled off her tank top. Finley took off her shirt.

    Why not? Abilene thought. Nobody around to see us, anyway.

    She removed her own blouse and tucked it under the waistband at the back of her skirt.

    Seeing that the others had stripped down, Vivian pulled off her polo shirt. She balled it up and mopped her face. After a few strides, she took off her bra. She stuffed it into a pocket of her shorts but kept the shirt in her hand as if ready to put it on quickly at the first sign of intruders. Her head turned constantly from side to side. Obviously, she was worried about being seen.

    So was Abilene. Though she told herself that there was probably no one nearby, it made her uneasy to be topless outside in broad daylight. She was uncomfortably aware of her naked breasts, how the air felt against their dripping skin and how they jiggled. She was tempted to put her blouse back on. Better to feel exposed and vulnerable, however, than stifled inside the garment.

    As they approached the mouth of the inlet, where they would be in plain sight from the lake’s opposite shore, Vivian pulled the polo shirt down over her head. Abilene slipped into her blouse and immediately regretted the way it clung to her skin and trapped the heat. Neither Cora nor Finley bothered to cover themselves.

    ‘Somebody might see you,’ Vivian warned.

    ‘As if I care,’ Finley said.

    ‘It might make somebody come after us.’

    ‘If it’s the guy that got Helen, let him come. I’d like to meet him and get it over with.’

    ‘We don’t want to meet him before we’ve got the gun,’ Cora said.

    ‘The four of us could take him.’

    Abilene wished they would stop standing there in plain sight Anyone might be watching. And getting ideas.

    ‘Either put on your shirts or get in the water,’ she said.

    ‘You worry too much, Hickok.’

    ‘It’s bad enough we’ve got Helen’s killer to deal with. God only knows who might be out there getting an eyeful and thinking he might like a crack at us.’

    ‘Just let ’em try,’ Finley said.

    Then she followed Cora into the water. Cora swam for the other side while Finley waded across, holding the sleeping bag overhead.

    Vivian jumped in.

    Abilene paused on the outcropping.

    She scanned the gray, ruffled lake and its shoreline. She saw no one.

    The breeze was stronger here. It felt a little cooler than before. Though she wanted to feel it on her skin, she held her blouse shut as she squinted in the direction of Batty’s cabin.

    She couldn’t see it, but she did spot a willow that might be die one concealing the rowboat.

    Not very far away.

    Batty would have a clear view of them.

    ‘You coming or what?’ Finley called from the other side of the inlet.

    She and Cora were already out shiny and dripping and staring at her. Vivian was boosting herself onto the slab of rock at Finley’s feet.

    Abilene leaped. She gasped as the cold water rushed up her body. Dunking her head, she savored the chill. Then she made her way to the other side, set the plastic bottle on the ledge and climbed up.

    Just as she’d expected, the chill stayed with her. The breeze felt wintery against her wet skin. She shivered. But she knew the sensation wouldn’t last long.

    She walked over the rocks, following the others into the woods. Her sodden feet made squelching sounds inside her sneakers, and she was struck by the memory of Helen, long ago, squelching across the restroom floor after stepping into the toilet. Ol’ Yellow Foot She smiled. Then she saw Helen sprawled on the shower room floor, dead, and a clump of ice seemed to form in her stomach.

    She’s in the shower room right now, in the blackness, all alone.

    Though the heat had already melted away the last traces of chill from Abilene’s skin, she crawled with goosebumps. She rubbed her pebbly forearms and thighs.

    It’s not Helen in the shower room, she told herself. Just her body. Her spirit isn’t there. Her soul’s free, doing whatever it is that souls do.

    If souls exist.

    They’ve got to. You can’t just die and that’s it…

    No. Abilene had long ago decided that death was a change, not an end. You leave your body behind, but something goes on. Though raised as a Protestant, she didn’t much care for the concepts of heaven and hell. She rather liked the idea of reincarnation.

    If you don’t come back, maybe you become part of the universe.

    Or maybe you stay a soul and go exploring.

    Maybe anything. No way to know. Not until you go toes up.

    It’d be nice if Helen could tell us what’s next.