"Does that about cover it?" Billie asked.
I didn't know who she was asking.
"That's the important stuff," Kimberly said. "He doesn't have to know everything."
"I bet he'd enjoy hearing all the juicy details," Connie said. "He can write all about 'em in his diary. Isn't that right, Rupe?"
"I ran out of . . ."
"Oh, yeah, right. But you wanta hear it all anyway, don't you? Wouldn't you just love for us to tell you how they raped us? Which orifices Wesley preferred, and how Thelma . . ."
"Shut up!" Kimberly snapped.
"Connie?" Billie sounded worried. "What's the matter with you? Stop that."
"Come on over here, Rupert," Connie said. "I'll tell you the good stuff. I'll give you an earful."
Thanks, anyway," I said. "I don't . . ."
"You wanta know what Thelma did to Kimberly with a stick yesterday?"
"You'd better shut your mouth," Kimberly said.
"Come on over, and I'll tell you all about how Mom sucked Wesley's cock."
"Rupert," Billie said. She sounded upset, but still fairly calm. And she wasn't whispering. Apparently, it was all right now for Connie to hear what she had to say. "Go on over to her," she told me. "Quick, okay? She's sounding . . . I don't know, I'm afraid she's about to lose it."
"Lose it?" Connie blurted. "You're afraid I'm gonna lose it? Ho ho ho! Surprise, surprise! It's lost!"
I started to hurry in the direction of her cage.
"Connie?" I asked.
"Over here, Rupert. Right over here." The mocking, coaxing tone of her voice gave me the creeps. "I'm waiting for you."
"Hey," I said. Take it easy."
"You miss me?"
"Sure."
"Bet you missed my mother more."
Right on the money, I thought. I said, "No, I didn't."
"Liar, liar, pants on fire."
From the direction of her voice, she seemed to be straight in front of me. I stopped walking, and faced her cage. Reaching out, I moved my hand from side to side.
The cage was too far away to touch.
Just the way I wanted it
"How about Kimmmmm-berly?" she asked. "Bet you missed herrrr."
"I missed all of you."
"Bullll. Bull, bull, bull! You missed her more than me. You missed 'em both more than me. Admit it. You wanta fuck 'em, don't you! Or maybe you've already done it. Have you? Huh? Have you fucked my mom yet, Rupie? Or the fabulous Kimmmm-berly? Have you? How were they? Were they good and . . . ?"
"And you called Thelma a jealous dog?" I said.
Which was not the best thing to say, just then.
Connie screamed.
Not a fright-scream like you hear in the movies. This was a rage-scream, a shrieking snarl. "RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
She sounded nuts.
My skin crawled.
I dug the lighter out of my pocket, raised it in front of me and thumbed it. A yellow flame spurted up.
"Kill that light!" Kimberly gasped.
I didn't.
I kept it going, and stared at Connie.
Still shrieking, she clung to the bars of her cage about halfway up the front. Her feet were planted wide apart, her knees bent, her back hunched. She jerked her body back and forth, up and down, as if she were trying to shake apart the cage.
Which didn't budge.
I'd expected her to be filthy, for some reason. She looked clean, though. Clean, but shiny and dripping with sweat.
"Rupert!" Kimberly snapped. "Put that light out! They might see it from the house!"
My thumb stayed, holding down on the gas lever. The flame stayed up.
Connie stopped all her jerking and shaking. She stopped the shrieking, too. But she didn't climb down. She clung to the bars, panting for air, and grinned at me.
She was too high on the bars for me to see her old shoulder injury from the time Thelma had thrown the rock over the falls. Her short blond hair was wet and clinging to her scalp, but there wasn't any blood on it that I could see.
Her face looked okay.
If you forget about the wide, mad eyes and peeled-back lips. If you ignore the fact that she grinned at me like a maniac.
Which is to say, they'd been careful not to wreck her face.
From the neck down, her bare skin was a map of bruises, raw abrasions, scabs, welts, scratches and cuts.
The visual handiwork of Wesley and Thelma.
I groaned at the sight of her.
I muttered, "My God, Connie."
"Pretty as a picture," she said. She tilted her head to one side, and licked her lips. "Gimme a little kiss?"
Kimberly said, "You'd better get out of here, Rupe. They might've heard the screams. If they looked out and saw your light . . ."
"Come here," Connie said. "Come, come, come." Leering, she thrust her pelvis toward the bars. Somebody had shaved her. Instead of pubic hair, she had smooth, glistening skin. "Come and gimme a little kiss. Gimme a little kiss on the lips."
As if to punish me for looking, for seeing what I shouldn't, my lighter suddenly died.
Blackness clamped down on us all.
I let up on the gas lever and got ready to strike the lighter again.
"Go!" Kimberly said. "Get going!"
"No, no no," Connie said. "Come. Come right over here, Rupie. I got something for you."
"Rupert," Billie called from her distant cage. "Leave. Right now. Run. If they get their hands on you, we're all finished. We won't have a hope."
Turning away from Connie's cage, I scanned the darkness. In the jungle and down the trail, I saw a bit of moonlight -- and nothing else but black and vague shapes of gray. No sign of the house. No sign of anyone.
I heard plenty.
Jungle noises.
Nothing that sounded like anyone approaching us.
If Wesley and Thelma realized I was out here, though, they wouldn't come dashing after me, yelling and waving a torch. They would come in darkness and silence.
It might already be too late for me.
"I got something for you, Rupie. Come a little closer. Or are you scared? You aren't scared of me, are you? I won't hurt you. Promise. I'll make you feel real good."
"Bye, everyone," I said.
"Oh, no you don't!" Connie cried out.
I hurried away from her cage. Behind me, she shrieked and raged and called me horrible names.
Into The Lair
I stumbled through the jungle, feeling my way in the darkness, until I came to the edge of the mansion's grounds. Staying in the bushes, I crouched low and peered out.
After the nearly complete blackness near the cages, the moonlit lawn and house seemed amazingly bright.
No sign of Wesley or Thelma.
I'd last seen them entering the house. Were they still inside?
Off behind me, Connie continued yelling things like, "You bastard, come back here!" Billie and Kimberly were talking to her, trying to calm her down. Their voices, and Connie's wild shouts, got mixed in with the usual squeals and squawks of jungle creatures.
I doubted that they could be heard inside the house. Even Connie's first and loudest raging shriek had probably gone unnoticed by Wesley and Thelma. They might've caught the noise if they'd been standing, quiet and listening, near an open window in one of the front rooms. But the chances were against it. In a huge house like that, they were more likely not at a front window.
They probably weren't standing quiet, either, straining to hear sounds from outside. More likely, they were doing something in there. Moving around, talking, sleeping, whatever.
It was unlikely that they'd heard Connie.
There seemed to be a better chance that they'd noticed the glow from my cigarette lighter. For one little dab of flame, it had really knocked a hole in the darkness. A fairly narrow strip of jungle separated the cages from the mansion's lawn. If the foliage wasn't really thick, the light might've been visible from the mansion.
It would've gone unnoticed, though, unless Wesley or Thelma happened to be watching from a front window.
After a while, I reached the conclusion that we'd overreacted. I could have stayed with the gals.
Better safe than sorry, though.