The Traveling Vampire Show

I stopped and turned around.

So did Bitsy.

Rusty said, “Here’s good.”

“Good for what?” I asked.

“This.” He leaped forward, grabbed Bitsy by the front of her dress with one hand and smashed her in the stomach with the other. The sound was like punching a raw steak. Her breath whooshed out and she started to fold over. “Nuffa you!” he blurted, and slugged her again.

“Rusty!”

“Stay outa this.”

Before I could make a move to help her, Rusty drove his fist into her belly again and again, very fast. Then he let go and staggered backward. Bitsy sank to her knees. Doubled over, she whined and sucked air. Her head was almost touching the ground.

“Jesus, Rusty,” I muttered.

“She had it coming.”

“God !”

“She asked for it. She’s been askin’ for it all day. Got no business messin’ with us.”

“You didn’t have to do that!”

“Yeah, yeah.” He stepped behind Bitsy, grabbed her hair and pulled. With a squeal, she struggled to her feet. She and Rusty looked vague in the darkness, but I could see that Bitsy’s dress was open, hanging off one shoulder. Her skin was a pale shade of gray, her nipple a black smudge. “Wanta take a swing at her?” Rusty asked me.

“Hell, no. Are you nuts?”

“Come on, man. She called Slim a dirty whore. You gonna let her get away with that?”

“I’m not gonna hit her.”

“Chicken,” he said.

“Leave her alone.”

“Sure. Soon as she leaves us alone.” He jerked her hair. She squeaked and went up on tiptoes. Mouth close to her ear, Rusty said, “You gonna leave?”

“Huh-uh.”

“Wanta bet?”

“Rusty,” I said.

“It’s okay, pal. She’s gonna go back to the car. Aren’t you, Bitsy?”

“No.”

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not.”

“You’re not coming with us.”

“Am, too.”

“You’re gettin’ one chance,” Rusty said. Turning her so she faced the general direction of Route 3, he let go of her hair and shoved her. She stumbled a few steps, then fell to her hands and knees. “Now go!”

She stayed there for a while, her head drooping toward the ground. Then she pushed herself up and turned around.

“I don’t see you leaving,” Rusty said.

“Dwiiiiiight.” Though she spoke my name, it sounded as if she were saying, “Why are you letting this happen to me?”

“You’d better go back and wait in the car,” I said.

“But I wanta ... come with.”

“It isn’t safe. That’s why Slim changed her mind.”

“You’re going.”

“We’re guys. It’s different.”

“Now get your fat ass outa here,” Rusty said, “or you’re really gonna get it.”

She slowly shook her head.

“That’s it,” Rusty muttered. He started toward her.

“Dwight!”

“Just go,” I told her.

“No.” She raised an arm and pointed straight at Rusty. “Better not,” she said. “I’m gonna tell.”