A faint light appeared from inside.
They looked in around the edge of a shade.
This end of the boat was the bedroom. A bed abutted to the wall next to the window. The light came from two candles on a dresser. A man was sitting in the bed with his back against the wall and his legs stretched out, facing the opposite way.
A woman was draped across his lap. She wore a dress but it was pulled up past her waist. She had no panties.
The man’s hand massaged her exposed flesh.
Suddenly it rose up and spanked down.
The slap was audible.
The woman wiggled.
Then she said something.
It sounded like, “Forty-two.”
Waverly held her breath, waiting for the next spank. It didn’t come for a long time, but when it did it was hard, with two more right behind it.
The woman flinched but made no effort to get off.
Then she wiggled her body seductively.
Her head was to the left where she couldn’t see the window even if she turned.
The window was an anonymous portal.
If either of the people inside turned, Waverly and Su-Moon would have plenty of opportunity to duck down. They were invisible. Because of that, they were in no hurry.
The spanks went to a hundred.
Then the woman slid down between the man’s legs and worked her mouth.
Waverly tugged on Su-Moon’s arm and they tiptoed off.
Twenty steps down the dock Su-Moon said, “Her dress was red, did you notice that?”
“Yes I did,” Waverly said. “We need to find out who she is.”
“Why?”
“Because we may have to warn her.”
27
River let out a war cry that shook the night, so pissed at January for leaving him stranded that every fiber of his body ached. She’d regret it, oh how she’d regret it. She’d learn a lesson about screwing with him. She’d learn a lesson she’d never forget, not in a million years.
The keys to all the boxcars were on same ring as the car key.
She had full access to everything.
Right now she was probably rifling through his stuff, grabbing everything that had even a snippet of value.
He walked north at a brisk pace, trying to remember how far it was to that Sunoco station they passed way back.
Ten miles?
Even then, it would be closed.
All he could hope for is that it had an outside phone booth.
Ten miles.
That would take him two and a half hours.
A mile down the road he wandered into the terrain for fifty steps and threw the shovel away, far enough that it wouldn’t be associated with the buried bikers.
The night was black but the road was detectible.
Every so often he turned the flashlight on and shined it around.
The topography was always the same-dirt, rabbit brush, prairie grass and rocks.
Half an hour farther down the road when he flicked the light on, something unexpected happened. A red reflection came from something off the road.
As he got closer, the reflection took the shape of a taillight, two taillights actually.
He headed that way, shining the light on the ground and keeping a lookout for snakes.
A car came into view.
His car?
It looked like it.
He picked up the pace.
Damn it, it was his car.
What the hell was it doing out here?
He trotted to it and got in.
January wasn’t there.
The keys weren’t in the ignition.
They weren’t on the floor or up in the visor or in the glove box or anywhere else.
He slammed his fist on the dash.
Goddamn it!
Then he heard a muffled sound from somewhere outside. It turned out to be a weak voice coming from inside the trunk.
“Help me …”
“January is that you?”
It was.
“River, help me …”
The lid was latched solid.
He shined the flashlight on the ground and found no keys, not there or all the way around. The passenger side door and front fender were smashed in.
He grabbed a rock the size of a gorilla’s fist and beat on the latch.
Wham.
Wham.
Wham.
It dented in but didn’t unlatch.
He beat on it more but still couldn’t bust it.
Then suddenly on the last smash something broke and the lid popped.
Inside was January. Her dress was filthy and ripped to shreds. Her panties were gone. Dried blood was on her face and her eyes were raw and wet. As soon as River bent down, the woman wrapped her arms around him and held on with the strength of someone being pulled from the grave.
28
