Lacey threw open the bathroom door. “A car’s coming!”“Cops?” Dukane asked.“I don’t think so.”She ran ahead of them, pressing her shirt to her damp breasts.After cleaning the breakfast dishes, she had given in to her need to clean herself. She filled the sink with warm water, then checked the windows to be certain the snipers remained in their normal positions. Returning to the kitchen, she used liquid detergent to wash her hair. Bent over the sink to rinse, she worried about leaving the house unguarded, imagined the front door bursting open, men with guns rushing in. As soon as the soap was out of her hair, she grabbed a hand towel and again checked the windows.Everything looked all right.But she didn’t like the kitchen, felt blind at its sink, and vulnerable. So she filled two pans with water and carried them into the living room. Facing the front window, she took off her clothes. She sponged herself with warm soapy water, and wiped the slickness away with cool water from the other pan. It felt very good. Maybe later, once the men were done in the bathroom, she would ask them to move Hoffman out and she could take a real bath. When was the last time? Yesterday? Just before going out to dinner with Scott. Only yesterday. It seemed like weeks ago.She squeezed the sponge against the nape of her neck and felt the cool water stream down her back. It slid over her buttocks and between them, and trickled down the backs of her legs. If Scott were here, he could wash her back…She imagined him coming into the room, and smiling with delight when he saw her. She would turn to face him. He would kiss her mouth, her neck, her breasts. His tongue would prod her nipples.Rather lick me?The memory of Hoffman’s words smashed her fantasy. She tossed the sponge into the water and picked up a dish towel. She patted her legs dry. She rubbed between them. She looked around at the cut on her buttock. It was slightly red at the edges, but scabbed over. It hadn’t been much more than a scratch, after all. But it itched more than the others that threaded her body. She resisted an urge to rake it with her fingernails, but rubbed it gently with the towel.As she started to dry her arms, the sound of a car engine froze her. She glanced out the window. A black Rolls Royce sped up the road toward the house.Whipping the towel around her waist, she scooped up her shirt and raced for the bathroom.Now Scott and Dukane were rushing past her, pistols ready. Scott checked the side window. Dukane kicked over a water pan as he dashed to the front. He crouched at the window.Scott ran to the hall.Lacey pulled her shirt on, grabbed her revolver off the rocking chair, and knelt beside Dukane. The car had stopped in front of the door—no more than ten yards away. Through its tinted windows, she saw moving, indistinct shapes.A door flew open. A naked woman was thrust from the car. She fell facedown, and the door slammed shut.Her back and rump were striped with raw, bleeding wounds. She pushed herself up. On her knees, she looked at the window. Lacey moaned, cold with sickness as she recognized the swollen, bloody face. Jan. The flesh of her chest and belly was tattered. Blood spilled from open wounds where her nipples should have been, flowed from her vagina, sheathing her thighs, forming a puddle on the ground between her knees.The rear window slid down three inches. Lacey saw the crown of a bald head inside the car.“We want Hoffman,” a man’s voice called through the opening. “Give us Hoffman, and we’ll let the rest of you go. If you’re…”Dukane fired. With the first shot, the pale scalp erupted and dropped from sight. The second shot smashed into the window, halfway down, blasting out a cone of glass but not breaking through.The car sprang forward.Until that instant, Lacey didn’t see the cord—the white electrical cord around Jan’s left ankle and running up to the crack at the bottom of the car door. It snapped taut. Tugged Jan’s leg from under her. Dragged her, spinning and bouncing, alongside the car.Lacey’s own scream drowned out the screams from Jan. Covering her ears, she lowered her head and shut her eyes tight.Finally, she raised her head. The car had turned around and was now speeding back. Its body hid Jan from her view until it turned right and headed up the entry drive. Then she glimpsed the tumbling carcass.Throwing herself away from the window, she grabbed the nearer pan and vomited into it. As convulsions wracked her, she realized vaguely that her towel had fallen away. It didn’t matter. Her mind reeled at what she’d seen. Would they do the same to Nancy? To her? Lacey’s stomach was empty, now, but she strained with dry heaves. Her mouth dripped hot stomach fluids. Her eyes dripped tears.“You stay with Lacey,” Scott told Dukane. “I’d better go in and get the rest of Hoffman’s story.”Dukane helped Lacey to the couch. Lying on it, she felt the soft fabric against her buttocks. She pulled a pillow down to cover her bare groin.“What about Nancy?” she asked.“There’s nothing we can do.”Dukane handed the pan ties and shorts to Lacey. “We could give them Hoffman,” she said.He turned away, and sat on an edge of the coffee table. As Lacey put on her clothes, he said. “They won’t let us go.”“Why not?”“Several reasons. First, we killed some of their people: the cops in Tucson, the sniper, the guy in the car just now. They can’t let us get away with that. Second, we’ve been in contact with Hoffman and they’ve got to assume he talked, maybe gave out the formula for becoming invisible.”“Did he?”“He did. That, plus plenty of other information. The Group can’t allow that. How many reasons is that?”“Two.”“Three, even if the other reasons didn’t exist, they’d want us for the sport. The people in The Group are evil. I’ve had some prior experience with them. I know. They love the power, love to make people cringe at their feet, to torture and kill for their own pleasure.”“Doesn’t sound good,” Lacey said.“It’s not.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Okay, I’m tooling along in Farmer Joe’s car, keeping a sharp look out for the bunch from the compound. But I never do see’em. The farmhouse was north of the compound, so they must’ve figured I’d keep going that way. Well, I didn’t. I went east. Got clean away.But it gets to be daylight, and there’s some traffic on the highway, and I start getting queer looks from the jerks in the other cars. Doesn’t take me long to figure out why. I’m invisible, right? So who’s driving my car?I don’t give much shit where I’m going—long as it’s not back to the compound—so I pull into a Denny’s and climb in back of the first car I find unlocked. Wherever they’re going, I’ll go. So I’m sitting there in the backseat and along comes not just momma and poppa, but three brats. Being invisible’s no cinch. When the door opens, I knock this little bastard on his ass and get out of there. The kid’s bawling, tells his dad somebody pushed him, and the old man gives him a whack for fibbing. Nice guy.Next time, I play it safe. A guy comes in the parking lot alone. I make sure he doesn’t lock up, then I go in Denny’s, in the kitchen there, and heist myself a coke and a couple of burgers and polish’em off while I wait for the guy.He takes me into Iowa City, to this university there. I find my way into a girls’ dorm. I tell you, thought I’d died and gone to heaven. Plenty of food for the taking, found me an empty room, and man the girls! You should’ve seen those hons in the showers.There’s one in par tic u lar, comes in for a shower every night around nine. A real honey, looks like a movie star, tits out to here. I’m sitting down so the steam won’t give me away. Front row seat. Watching her rub herself all over with soap. I’ve got a hard-on feels like it’s gonna bust.Well, this one night I can see she’s hot. Not just washing, you know, but feeling herself, rubbing her tits, playing around with her puss. Finally, she gets on her back with her legs up so the water’s hitting her quiff. I move in with my mouth. I’m licking and sucking and sticking my tongue in, and she’s so far gone she doesn’t know, like she thinks the spray’s doing it. Maybe she thought she was dreaming, I don’t know. Well, she’s squirming and moaning and rubbing her tits, and I just go ahead and put my dick right in. Should’ve seen her eyes bug out. Looks down at herself. Reaches down. I pull it out and give her a handful. She feels it up and down, like trying to figure out if it’s what she thinks. She looks real confused and scared, at first. Then she gets this funny little smile on her face, and puts it back in.I go ahead and hump the daylights out of her. She damn near screams when she comes.After we’re done, she starts drying herself off, frowning like she’s trying to figure something out. Then she says, “Are you here?”I take the towel, and finish drying her.“What are you?” she asks.I don’t answer.“Am I…imagining you? I’ve never…here I am, talking to myself. Shit.” Then she reaches out and touches me, touches my dick. “You sure don’t feel like an hallucination.” She gets this funny smile again, and goes down on her knees and sucks me off. “Don’t taste like one, either,” she says when she’s finished. “What ever you are, I hope you don’t go away.”“I’m the invisible man,” I whisper.“No shit?”“A government experiment went haywire. They’re after me.’Fraid I’ll spill the beans.” A good one, right? Spill the beans? Anyway, I tell her I’m hiding out’cause they’ll kill me, which wasn’t that far from the truth. If The Group ever got their hands on me…Well, this gal’s fascinated. Says I can hide out in her room, and she’ll take care of me.And she does. Man, does she take care of me! A real wild gal. Name was Robin, like the bird. The first couple days, she cut all her classes and stayed in the room with me. Only just left to get us food. Told all her friends she’d come down with something. It was like a fuckin’ honeymoon. Didn’t do nothing but play games.That, and talk. A great talker, Robin. Name me a woman that isn’t. She wanted to know the story of my life. I just made up a lot of shit, made me sound like a regular sweetheart. Most of all, she wanted to know how I got invisible, and what it was like. Said she wished she was that way, she’d do just what I did except she’d head over to the boys’ shower room. I let her know it wasn’t all fun and games, like how you freeze your ass off when it’s cold out, and how tough it is to get places. Like how do you drive?So she drags out her make up and shows me how to put it on so I’ve got a face. Puts a wig on me. Presto, I’ve got a head. After a couple of days, I have her go out and buy me some clothes and sunglasses. Now I’m all set. I don’t look like much. Look kind of weird, in fact, and even weirder when my mouth’s open, but I figure at least I’ll be able to get around at night like a human being.Robin’s got other ideas, too. She’s full of ideas. It’s June, see, and she’s got final exams coming up. So she puts me to work hiding out in faculty offices and heisting exams. Stupid stuff, but it gave me something to do and kept her happy.She also wants to even up a score. Her boyfriend dumped her for some bitch. They’re living off campus, so she drives me out there to take care of them. She just wants me to do some tricks, move some furniture around, make stuff float, scare the shit out of’em. But the gal turns out to be a fox so after I spook’em for a while, I do the guy, tear him up, chase the gal around with his head, have my own kind of fun.Well, Robin finds out all about it when she sees the newspaper. Calls me a maniac, shit like that. Frankly, I think she’s just pissed’cause I fucked the gal. But she’s also yelling about how the cops’ll come looking for her, seeing as she was the jilted lover. I figure she’s probably right. The cops’ll pull her in and she’ll finger me. So it’s adios Robin. I break her neck and light out.I take along her make up, and the clothes she bought me, and my six beans. I hide in a utility closet till night, then get the hell out of the dorm and steal her car. She isn’t gonna need it, right?The car’s hot, though. I’m no dummy. I know I’ve gotta dump it fast. So I drive downtown—what there is of it—and I see where a movie’s just getting out. None of the gals coming out of the theater are alone, so I follow this guy. When he gets to his car, I bash him. I scoot him over to the passenger seat, and bring my stuff over to his car.Smart, huh? Look at it this way: if I heist a car, somebody’s gonna miss it and call the cops. Probably by morning. There I am, stuck with another hot car before I hardly get used to it. But if I take the guy with it, he’s not gonna tell his car’s gone, right? Dead men don’t yap. And if a guy goes to the movies alone, you can lay odds he’s single. Won’t be a wife waiting up for him, worrying her tail off. So I figure I can use the car for a couple of days, at least, maybe longer. You ever need a car for a long haul, kill off the driver.Anyway, once I’ve got the guy’s car, I drive out in the boondocks, throw him in the trunk, and put on my makeup and clothes so I’ll pass for a normal person.I’m on the road a long time, after that. I drive at night. Rip off restaurants and houses for food. Sleep in the backseat when daylight hits, either that or take a house. I found one place where the folks were on vacation or something. Stayed there a week. But most of the time, the places weren’t deserted and I had to do the people. Couldn’t stay more than a day or two, then,’cause sure enough somebody’d come around snooping.Then it’d get in the papers. Goddamn papers. I know The Group, see, know they’re watching out for stuff like that. Probably sticking pins in a map. Not gonna quit till they’ve got my ass nailed.So then I get this bright idea. I grab a camper, an RV, off a couple of old farts I figure are retired and nobody’s gonna miss’em for a while. Then I head west. Keep my hands to myself, don’t leave a trail for the fuckin’ Group.First thing you know, I’m in Phoenix. I figure, hey, how about paying a visit to my old friends in Oasis?