Beyond the Chocolate War

his side. But it was too late. The front door on Laurie's side was flung open and a lewd laugh rose out of the darkness behind the light. Obie squinted, trying to see beyond the burst of light, sensing that there was more than one person out there, felt as though he and Laurie were surrounded. He hoped it was all a joke, a prank. A sick prank but still a prank.

'Everybody out,' a voice called. Muffled, a voice he did not recognize.

'She's juicy, right?' another voice said. 'Can I be first?'

Obie knew instantly that this was not a prank. The door beside him swung open and at the same moment Laurie began to scream, a scream like a knife plunged into his heart. Rough hands gripped him, pulling him out of the car. Laurie's screaming was cut off abruptly, like someone snapping off a stereo.

And the sudden silence was even worse than the screaming.

Part Two

It hadn't been much of a rape, really.

Not a rape at all, in fact.

Archie, frankly, grew bored as Bunting again went into the details. He realized Bunting habitually repeated himself, making a statement, then stating it again, and sometimes a third time, as if you were too stupid to understand what he had said in the first place.

Yet Archie was secretly delighted as he listened to Bunting's lurid recital of events. He was delighted because he saw that Bunting was perfect for what he had planned for the future. The audacity, for crissake: a rape. And then the botching of it Perfect.

Archie had enjoyed Bunting's discomfort as he listened to the details. But Bunting had not gone into all the details, of course. There were certain things Bunting kept to himself, would not share with Archie Costello. He told Archie about Harley and Cornacchio. How Cornacchio had taken care of Obie beautifully, seized him and dragged him from the car, held him in a fierce armlock, forced him to the ground, shoving his head under the car so that he couldn't see anything or anybody. That was important. Good job by Cornacchio. Harley had also performed above expectations. He had yanked open the door on the passenger side of the car, reached for the girl, and then, as if acting from instinct or long practice, had grabbed at her sweater and pulled it up over her face, blinding her, keeping her from witnessing anything, her arms imprisoned above her head.

The part that he did not tell Archie: how the raising of the sweater had revealed her bra. White, full, heaving. Like in the movies or the magazines. Beyond Bunting's wildest dreams. He hadn't realized Laurie Gundarson's breasts were so large, concealed as they'd always been by blouses and sweaters. Bunting lunged toward her, wanting to fill himself with her, wanting to fill her with him, aching with desire, lust, the necessity to grab her, hold her close, caress those beauties. He pinned her down with his body as she struggled and squirmed, small mews of protest muffled in the sweater. For one sweet, throbbing moment he held her right breast in his hand, full and firm in the nylon bra, yet soft and yielding at the same time. He'd never touched a girl's breast before, and he throbbed with such ecstasy that his breath came in sharp bursts. Beautiful. But without warning Laurie Gundarson kicked out, her legs churning and thrashing, and at the same time she managed to scream, loud and piercing. Pain arrowed through Bunting's groin. All desire left him; he grew limp. He released her in revulsion. Realized suddenly and with blinding clarity what they—he was doing. Rape, for crissake. That was sick. Nausea swept his stomach. He shouted to Harley: 'Christ, let's get out of here,' thankful that his voice emerged hoarse, almost a grunt, unrecognizable to his own ears and, he hoped, to hers as well.

They abandoned the scene as quickly as they had struck, withdrawing without pause, leaving the girl whimpering, face still covered, and Obie under the car, legs jutting out at a grotesque angle. They roared away, Harley laughing like a madman while Bunting managed to bring himself under control. Take it easy. As they raced away from the Chasm, Bunting's thoughts also raced, reliving the incident to see if they'd left behind clues to their identities. Was certain they hadn't. Almost certain. But even if the girl or Obie had caught a glimpse of their faces, what could they do? Three against two. The couple's words against theirs. Still, an alibi would come in handy. And Bunting knew immediately who would provide that alibi.

'Okay, okay,' Archie said now, letting his annoyance and distaste finally show. 'Why are you telling me all this?'

They were sitting in Archie's car in the parking lot, a half hour before the start of classes. Bunting had called Archie early this morning, rousing him from sleep. Ordinarily, Archie would have bristled with anger — home and school were separate entities in his life — but the urgency in Bunting's voice had held his anger in check. Something else: a bad dream during the night, of snowflakes large as letter-sized papers covering the entire city of Monument Soiled snowflakes, dirtied by scrawled words, falling suffocatingly on the world. Archie had leaped from sleep, glad to leave the nightmare behind.

'I had to tell someone, Archie. I mean, you've pulled a lot of stuff in the Vigils—'

'Never rape,' Archie said quickly, contempt in his voice. 'Never anything like that.'

'We didn't rape her,' Bunting protested. 'I didn't even touch her.' He knew he had to cling to that statement.

'Assault,' Archie said. 'I was going to say assault with a deadly weapon.' He looked down at Bunting. 'But I don't think the weapon's very deadly. . '

Bunting flushed but didn't reply, willing to take this abuse if he got what he wanted from Archie.

'Thing is,' Bunting said after a pause, knowing the plunge he was taking, 'we could use an alibi—'

'Alibi,' Archie scoffed. 'What is this—Saturday Night at the Movies?'

'I mean, in case they saw us. Caught a glimpse. I figure the Vigils could cover us. . '

'I thought you said they didn't see you. Or anything else. The girl's sweater over her head, Obie under the car. That you didn't touch her—'

'But just in case. . I flunk it's better to be prepared,' Bunting said stubbornly. Then played his ace. 'In fact. .' Letting the words dangle there.

'In fact what?' Archie asked, immediately suspicious. Until this moment, he had been half amused by Bunting's dilemma.

'I was thinking,' Bunting said, choosing his words carefully, 'that maybe Obie thinks this was a Vigil assignment.'

'Are you crazy, Bunting? Obie is part of the Vigils. We always protect our members. Never touch them. He's at all the meetings. . '

Bunting sighed, then plunged.

'The other day when I told you about Obie and the girl at the Chasm — remember?'

'I remember.'

'I asked if you wanted anything done about them.'

'I didn't tell you to do anything.'

'You didn't tell me not to do anything,' Bunting said, speaking deliberately.

'Christ, Bunting, what are you saying?'

'I figured you wanted us to do something. That you were being. . subtle.' Subtle: a beautiful word, Bunting thought, ready and waiting when he needed it.

'I don't have to be subtle,' Archie responded, voice cold. 'When I want something done, I say: Do it.'

'But you're a subtle guy, Archie,' Bunting said, pressing on, knowing that if he could make Archie a part of what had happened last night, his troubles were over. 'Last, night we were driving around and went to the Chasm and I saw Obie's car there. Then I remembered our conversation. How you seemed to want something done about Obie. And the girl. And we figured we'd throw a little scare into them. Then. .'

'Then what?' Archie asked, realizing how dangerous this little bastard was. Had to be cautious. This was not assignment stuff, or fun and games on campus. This was assault. Attempted rape. Suppose the girl went to the police?

'Then. .' Bunting began. And halted. Because what had started out as a dare, a threat, a bit of fan, had turned into something else once he'd approached the car and seen Laurie Gundarson there. 'Then. . what happened, happened.' A bit panicky now, he said: 'But it wouldn't have happened at all, Archie, if I'd thought you