And he struck the “maybe” prevarication from the thought.
Eddie’s heart lurched as she leaned over him. Her lips parted and she ran her tongue slowly along the edge of her teeth. Her nostrils flared. She looked more like a hungry lioness than something as mundane as a woman with a mean streak. She reached behind his head and the snaps fastening the leather straps about his head came away. Eddie experienced an absurd wave of gratitude toward her. He drew in deep lungfuls of air, suddenly, blessedly able to breathe properly again. Christ, he was practically ready to nominate her for sainthood for these things alone.
Giselle showed him the piece of stationery from the pad.
His heart went momentarily still at the words written there.
I KNOW YOU BETTER THAN YOU KNOW YOURSELF it read.
Now Eddie’s heart was racing.
THIS IS WHAT YOU’VE ALWAYS WANTED.
She cast the note aside.
“No,” he breathed-and heard the lack of conviction in his voice.
She smiled.
And patted his cheek.
Then she climbed onto the bed, got carefully to her feet, and leered down at Eddie.
Jesus, he thought.
Here we go again.
His gaze shifted from the oddly sympathetic set of her features to her shoes. He didn’t like the way they deeply indented the mattress. At least they weren’t stiletto heels. She shifted a leg and placed the cold sole of one shoe on his chest. There was almost no pressure. She maintained perfect balance and a light touch for an amazing stretch of time.
Then the pressure increased a little.
And a little more.
The heel gouged his flesh and Eddie cried out.
She suddenly applied her full weight to him. His face contorted with agony. She was standing on him now with both feet.
Then she was stepping forward.
Walking on him.
The flat sole of one shoe touched his left cheek and drove his head sideways, and the heel dug into the soft flesh at the base of his throat.
Eddie saw the note on the floor, its message a condemnation.
THIS IS WHAT YOU’VE ALWAYS WANTED.
To his dismay, he found he couldn’t immediately answer the question that came to mind: Is it?
Oh my God … is it?
The pressure on his face increased again.
Dream was scared. She marveled for a moment at the spectacular irony of the notion, but it was without doubt the absolute truth. Here she was, a person committed to ending her life before the next sunrise, and she was scared. Except that maybe “scared” didn’t quite convey the depth of what she was feeling. Scared was how you felt when you were sitting in a darkened movie theater watching a good horror movie. The word implied a degree of detachment from the source of the fear. Maybe the movie would wig you out a little, but it would end soon enough, the lights would come on, and you would soon emerge into the warmth of the sun.
No, this was a sick, creeping sensation of enervating terror. It drained every bit of remaining strength and left her feeling ill. She gripped the Accord’s steering wheel harder to still the trembling in her arms. “Guys, I’ve gotta stop.”
Alicia’s eyes narrowed with concern. “You okay?”
Dream gave her head an emphatic shake. She twisted the steering wheel and the Accord swerved to the shoulder. She parked the car, opened the door, and leaned over to be sick. Her stomach spasmed, and she retched up a thin stream of acid. There was nothing in her stomach to throw up, but she was helpless to quell the spasms for a time. When they at last subsided, she pulled the door shut and settled back into her seat.
“Jesus, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry”
Alicia was looking at her the way a nurse might regard a seriously ill patient. “Oh, hush.” She cupped a hand behind Dream’s neck. “It got to you, that’s all.”
Meaning the image of Shane’s slashed body.
Well, it was a feasible explanation. The memory was gruesome enough to trigger nausea. Still, it wasn’t the true reason for her sickness, and she was about to say so when Karen started talking.
“Please.” There was an uncharacteristic caustic quality in her voice. “I love both of you, but don’t offend me with this shit. Neither of you were ever members of the Shane Wallace fan club.”
Alicia protested. “The fuck does that have to do with it? Nada, that’s what. Not a goddamn thing. We’re human beings, girl, and our personal feelings go out the fucking window when something like that happens to another human being.”
Karen huffed. “Whatever. I only bring it up now to make a point. Dream’s not upset by what happened back there-” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “She’s upset by what’s happening right now.”
There was a long moment of silence. The tension was stifling. Dream’s only point of comparison to the atmosphere in the car was the first stilted conversation she had with Dan after finding him in the arms of that… man. The short exchange had been the most awkward moment of her life.
But this moment ranked a close second.
Dream sighed. “She’s right.”
Karen said, “No shit.”
Alicia sniffed. “Well, damn, I guess I’m just a dumb-ass bitch, ‘cause I don’t know what the hell y’all are talkin’ about.” Her hand came away from Dream’s neck. “So maybe one of you should spell it out for my clueless black ass.”
Dream looked at Alicia. “How far do you think we’ve come since we left the interstate?”
Alicia shrugged. “Ten miles? Maybe a little more?”
Dream shook her head. “Try more than twenty.”
She let the information sink in for a moment before continuing. “And when was the last time you drove this far off an interstate exit without seeing an Exxon or a Holiday Inn? Even in a sparsely populated area there ought to be something. A mom-and-pop motel, a general store where you can buy gas and live bait, something.” She paused and noticed the way Alicia’s attention was riveted to her now. “But there’s been nothing, and I do mean nothing. There haven’t been any other cars. There haven’t been any road signs, either. No road signs. No billboards. Nothing.”
There was another moment of silence. An oppressive silence. They could almost feel the night closing in around them. Alicia’s voice was uncharacteristically shrill when she said, “So what are you saying?” There was some anger in her voice, but there was also something very much like the beginning of real fear. “Because you can’t be saying what I think you’re saying.”
Karen laughed without humor. “You bet your ass she is.”
Alicia chortled. “So that was exit 666 back there, huh? We’ve driven off into another dimension.” Another pause; another disdainful chuckle. “Bullshit! That wasn’t the Tennessee portal to the Bermuda goddamn Triangle! You’re both letting your stressed-out imaginations get the better of you.”
“Nobody’s getting worked up, Alicia.” Dream spoke in measured, calm tones. “All I’m saying is, we’re lost in a very rural area. We’ve got maybe a quarter tank of gas. A little less, actually. I don’t know about either of you, but the thought of being stranded out here for the night scares the shit out of me.”
Alicia seemed to relax now that one of her friends was sounding sane again. “Look …” She sighed. “I bet the gas will hold out long enough to get us to help. A quarter tank will get us, what, another forty to fifty miles down the road?” She laughed. “I can’t imagine all this nothing going on another fifty goddamn miles. Can you?”
Dream didn’t want to imagine that. “No.” She shook her head and released a shuddering sigh. “Definitely not.”
Karen snorted. “Nice cop-out, Dream. Well, little Ms. Diplomacy, you’ll have to excuse me, but my own
