The Stake

Must’ve, he told himself.

A few yards beyond the door was a square wooden platform half a foot high. Larry stepped onto it, reached up and caught hold of a dangling rope. He pulled the rope’s knotted end. A plywood ceiling panel swung down on hinges.

“All right,” Pete said. “A trapdoor.”

Fixed to its top was a ladder folded into three sections. Larry lowered the ladder until the shoes of its side rails rested firmly against the platform.

“Gonna be a bitch getting our stiff up there,” Pete said.

He was right. Though the ladder stood at an angle like a flight of stairs, it was much steeper than a stairway.

“It’s the perfect place,” Larry told him. “Nobody’s going to find her.”

He stepped aside. Pete climbed to the top and looked around. “Yeah,” he said. “Great if we can manage it.” He started down. “How come you don’t use it for storage?”

“Never got around to it.”

“Pretty neat up there. Floorboards and everything. Hotter than shit, though.” He grinned. “Guess our friendly local vampire won’t mind, huh?”

“Probably not.”

They stepped off the platform. Larry led the way toward the far corner of the garage.

“Almost need a map to find the thing,” Pete said.

I can find it in the dark.

“We’re almost there.”

Larry slipped through the passage between stacks of boxes and entered the small open area near the corner.

The concrete had dried.

The blanket lay heaped on the floor beside the coffin.

No!

He’d raced from the garage, near panic after dealing with the arm, and had totally forgotten to cover the body.

Now it was too late.

Pete appeared at his side, stepped forward and picked up the blanket.

Larry felt as if his skin were on fire.

“Been checking her out, huh?”

Deny it?

Pretend you don’t know how the blanket got on the floor?

Pete’s no idiot. He’d spot that lie in an instant.

“Yeah,” Larry said, trying to sound lecherous. “Just had to. She’s such a doll I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Can’t blame you. What a mug. What a bod.”

“Gives a new definition to feminine pulchritude.”

“Gives a new definition to ugly,” Pete said.

“Seriously, though, I didhave to take a look at her yesterday. Research. Came time to describe her for the book, and I wanted to get it right.”

“Right, sure.” It was apparent from his tone that Pete believed the story. He shook open the blanket and spread it over the corpse, covering Bonnie from her shoulders to her ankles. Then he bent down again and pulled it up to hide her face. “That’s better,” he muttered.

“Why don’t I take the front?” he suggested.

They lifted the coffin and carried it back through the garage.

“I’ll go first,” Pete said. “Should work better that way, since you’re taller. Try to keep your end high.”

He started up the ladder backward, moving slowly. As the box tipped upward, Bonnie slid toward Larry until the casket stopped her feet. The blanket dropped away from her face.

Larry raised his end of the box. Bracing it against his chest, he stepped closer to the ladder. The front kept rising. The blanket slipped down. The stake caught it, and the blanket hung from the wooden shaft like a cape tossed over a wall hook.

When Larry reached the base of the ladder, he realized he wouldn’t be able to climb with the coffin pressing against his chest. “Wait,” he called.

Pete stopped.

Larry lowered it to his waist.

“Okay.”

Pete resumed climbing.

Larry mounted the ladder’s first rang. Bonnie stood almost vertical inside the coffin.

“Oh, boy,” Larry muttered.

“You okay?”

“So far.”

“I’m just about there.”

Larry shoved the casket upward with his knee, planted the toe of his shoe on the next rung and tried to rise. His foot slipped. As it dropped to the rang below, he lost his grip. The bottom edge of the casket pounded the ladder.

“Shit!” Pete yelled.

Larry grabbed the box’s sides.

Something moved above him. He looked up.

He shouted, “No!”

Bonnie, standing rigid, teetered forward and plunged straight down at him.

It seemed to happen very slowly. The blanket fell from the stake and drifted toward her feet. Her dull blond hair flowed behind her head. Her right arm stayed tight against her side, but her left arm swayed down from the elbow as if reaching for him. Her mouth seemed to be stretched into a delighted grin.

He heard himself squeal.

He heard Pete shout, “Watch out!”

Hurling himself off the ladder, he staggered away and flung up his hands. He caught Bonnie by the sides, just under her armpits, and tried to shove her away. But her weight drove him backward. He stumbled off the edge of the platform.

He seemed to fall for a long time.

His back slammed the concrete floor.

His hands lost their grip, and the body crashed onto him, the blunt end of the stake ramming his chest. He twisted his head aside. Dry teeth struck his cheek. Hair floated down, tickling his face like spider webs.

Larry bucked, throwing her off, rolled away and scurried to his feet. He stared at her. He gasped for breath. He felt as if a horde of ants were crawling on his skin, but he looked down at himself. Except for a snag and a smudge of dirt on the chest of his T-shirt, he saw no evidence of the encounter.

“Are you all right?” Pete asked.

Larry moaned. “I’ve been better.”

“Right with you,” Pete said, and dragged the empty casket up through the opening. Larry heard it scoot along the attic floorboards. Then Pete rushed down the ladder. “Guess maybe we should’ve tied her in.”

“Yeah.” Larry wanted to rub his crawly skin, but not with hands that had touched the body. “I’ve gotta shower,” he said.

“Don’t blame you. Gross-out. Let’s take her up, though, huh?” Pete crouched over Bonnie’s head and slipped his hands beneath her shoulders. “Take the legs, buddy.”

Larry shook his head. “I... uh...”

“Come on, don’t be a pussy.”