stood there with his jaw hanging open. It couldn’t be. The clothes were too tight, the t-shirt too plain. It couldn’t be.
But it was.
He dropped the beer he was holding and ran for the front door, his heart hammering so loudly that he half expected it to break a rib.
Donna had been fun, but she was nothing more than a cheap substitute. The off brand.
No, what he craved was the real thing.
And now he knew it was right within his grasp.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
She’d broken a window with a large rock that she’d found out near the playground, making sure that she was well hidden from view of the street. She’d had the feeling that she was being followed, that someone was tracking her as if she were a deer in the forest. But every time she’d try to steal a glance over her shoulder nothing was there. She even tried to catch a glimpse in the side view mirror of a parked car, hoping this little trick would reveal whether or not someone was slipping through the shadows behind her. But that disclosed nothing as well, so she’d continued on and chalked it up to nerves.
The neighborhood surrounding the school was chiefly residential which, in turn, meant it had been mostly spared from the looting. There were a few cars with spider web cracks stretching across their windshields, some broken glass littering the sidewalk, a couple of bodies lying in the street; but it was nothing like the other parts of town where the stores were all clustered together and ripe for the picking.
She’d climbed into the darkness of the school and made her way forward carefully, working her way through the labyrinth of rooms until she was in one of the halls. It was so quiet that her footsteps echoed as loudly as if she were wearing heavy boots. No one came running. No doors flew open to reveal murderous rage. But why would they? Who they hell would be in an elementary school at this time of night anyway?
She lit her cigarette, feeling slightly guilty when she noticed the sign on the wall that announced tobacco was prohibited on school property. But that guilt was quickly assuaged when her eyes had become better adjusted to the gloom: when she realized that the hallway was lined on either side with bright yellow tape.
Polly stood, took the last drag from her cigarette, and crushed it out under her heel.
She would find somewhere else then.
Richard’s initial instinct had been to charge at her like a mad bull. To run her down the same way Meathead had done him. But he fought this urge, savoring instead the little game he was playing. She, the dainty little mouse, who kept looking back over her shoulder: afraid and helpless in this big ’ole maze of a city. He, the stealthy cat in the shadows: quick and slinky, master of the domain, perfectly bred for stealth and attack.
After several blocks, he realized that — in his haste to follow her — he’d forgotten to grab his machete when he’d left Donna’s brownstone. But no worries. He could go back for it later. It wasn’t as if he would actually need it. Not for
Around the same time it dawned upon him where she was heading. The elementary school. Wasn’t that just like a woman? To worry about the little kiddies when she should be more concerned with saving her own skin?
Oh man, this was going to be too easy.
The classroom was standard issue. Block walls painted some neutral color she’d never bothered to learn the name of. Row after row of desks perfectly lined up. Bookshelves. Learning based posters on the walls and a big chalkboard with the name Mrs. Haversham scrawled across it.
She’d plopped down into the teacher’s chair and looked at the day planner laid out on top of the desk. PTA meeting, 7:30 PM Wednesday. Field Trip-Zoo, 8:30 AM, two weeks from now. Sorry about your luck, Mrs. Haversham, but it looks like we’ve had to clear your calendar. Permanently.
As she swiveled back and forth in the chair, Polly toyed with the little American flags that had been poised on one corner of the desk. They were the type that had two poles jutting out at opposite angles from a single wooden base. Probably made in Taiwan.
Maybe she should rest here for a while. Wait for daylight and plan her next move. Smoke all she wanted or for as long as the pack held out.
Yeah, that might be for the best. There would probably be a lot less assholes to deal with out there by morning.
She stood and walked to the door of the classroom, placed the knife on the little bookshelf beside it, and turned the lock.
She wondered what had happened to Jane? Had her friend made it? Was she still back at the apartment? Or was she running, hiding, trying to find a way out of town?
Polly hoped she wasn’t dead. Jane was one of those rare people you met in life. The kind who actually take time to listen to what you’re saying, to show a sincere interest in how you’ve been doing.
But she couldn’t think about that now. Jane was a distraction. Just have a smoke and try to let it go.
He could see her moving about through the frosted glass of the door. Room 114. She’d just turned and was walking away, her silhouette growing fainter by the second. Probably locked it.
Poor, simple Polly.
Still believing that mere doors and windows were enough to keep her safe.
It was time to teach her a lesson.
One which she would never forget.
Polly had just lit the cigarette when she saw it. A man-shaped shadow outside the door. Dark. Hulking. Growing larger as it approached.
Thoughts of Jane had distracted her and she’d left the fucking knife on that little bookshelf. She sprung from her chair at the same moment the glass in the window exploded inward in tiny little chunks that looked like crystalline boulders. They rattled against the floor, not crashing like normal glass, and the elbow that had smashed its way through straightened into an arm. An arm which easily flicked the lock and swung the door open.
Before her stood what appeared to be a monster. Its face was lumpy, bloody and battered beyond belief with lips swollen and split, a nose zigzagging at odd angles, hair matted with gore in some places, slick with blood in others. It’s clothes looked like some sort of tattered fatigues that had been cut and abraded to the point where there seemed to be more holes than fibers. For all intents and purposes, this thing looked like the victim of a fatal car crash who had just decided to pick up and walk away.
It stepped into the room, breathing so heavily she could see its shoulders rise and fall.
At the same time she took a step backward as she glanced around the room, trying to plot a way to circle around and get her hands on that knife.
“Looking for an escape route?”
The voice sounded as if it were speaking through a mouthful of mush. Which wasn’t surprising considering the state said mouth was in. But there was something familiar about that voice….
“No escape for you… not this time.”
She took another step backward, but her eyes stayed trained on the monstrosity before her. Watching for the slightest movement that would indicate the start of an attack.
“Pretty, pretty Polly.”
She gasped.
“Richard?”
The classroom filled with laughter.
“No, baby. I told you. Richard’s dead. Call me Rick. Or Dick. You like Dick, don’t you Polly? I know you do.”
More laughter again.
