Until it abruptly stopped.
Then they were on the road again. Julie heard country-and-western music, the old, really twangy stuff, coming from the car’s stereo. She cried some more and eventually fell asleep with the music in her ears. Then she woke up and knew at once they had stopped again.
The trunk came open and blinding daylight made her blink fast. The first thing she saw was the dead man, her dried vomit in his wild, matted hair. Next she saw the trunk lid standing tall above her. Then hands, reaching for her. She was yanked from the trunk and thrown roughly to the ground.
She cried out as her knees hit the ground first. She kept tumbling, pitching forward and then onto her side, rolling twice before coming to a stop on her back. The man loomed over her. He was bare chested, his muscled torso gleaming in the sun. He wore very tight jeans and white sneakers. More of John’s pilfered belongings, she guessed. The too-tight jeans were far cleaner than the filthy pants he’d been wearing. His body was cleaner than she remembered, too. But his attitude toward her hadn’t changed a bit. She saw it in his hard eyes and the way his upper lip kept twitching.
He was holding a shovel. “You’ve got work to do, cunt.”
He threw the shovel at her. The blade struck her hip and made her cry out again. “Ow!” She sat up and took a look around. They were in a field somewhere, parked next to an expanse of wilderness. She looked at the crazy man. “Where are we?”
His lip twitched again. “Ain’t any concern of yours, bitch. You got a hole to dig. Get to it.”
“I thought I told you not to talk to me like that.”
His hands curled into shaking fists. “Shut up. Shut the hell up. You do what I told you or I’ll thrash you.”
“I don’t think so.”
There was murder in his eyes now, a palpable need to kill. “Don’t test me, little bitch. You’ll be sorry, I swear.”
Julie brought her knees up to her chest and crossed her arms over them. “Lulu will be pissed off if you do anything to me. You know that. I’m special, remember?”
“I remember.”
There was an undertone of bitter resentment in the words. Hearing it made Julie uneasy. The man’s Lulu delusion was keeping her alive for now. But the man’s drive to rape and kill was strong. Logic told her those urges would override the delusion at some point. And then she’d be fucked. Fucked and very, very fucking dead. And someday crime-scene photos of her defiled and decaying corpse would be saved on some other morbid kid’s computer. She needed to buy time somehow, and the only obvious way was to go along with whatever he wanted, all the while keeping an eye out for an opening, some way out.
“I’ll dig the hole, okay? Just try to be a little nicer to me, that’s all I’m saying.”
“Dig. The fucking hole. Right now.”
Julie picked up the shovel and used it to steady herself as she stood up. She wiped grass and bits of dirt from her bare body and looked at him. “I don’t wanna do this naked, dude. You got any clothes for me?”
He smirked. “Got some of that woman’s things in a bag. You can dress after you dig the hole.”
Julie shook her head. “No. Now.”
“After.”
Julie scowled. “It’s because you’re a fucking pervert, right? You just want to stare at me.”
He almost smiled. “Like to do a lot more than stare.”
“But Lulu won’t let you.”
He wiped moisture from his mouth with the back of a hand. “Right. For now. She’s changed her mind on things before.”
Julie rolled her eyes.
I’ll bet.
“Whatever, man. If you get wood and wanna spank it, please do it in the car, okay? I don’t need to see that shit. That too much to ask?”
The man just laughed.
Julie thought about whacking him upside the head with the shovel. It was a good, sturdy tool, with a clean, sharp blade. Probably taken from John’s garage. A solid blow to the head from this thing would put most guys down for the count, at least long enough to do some more damage before he could get up again. But this guy was no normal dude. He was big and crazy. He would probably see it coming. He’d just take the shovel from her and spank her with it.
“So. This hole. Where should I dig it?”
“Anywhere. Right where you’re standing is fine.”
“Uh-huh. And how big should it be?”
“Big. It’s a grave.”
Julie gulped. “Um…”
“Not for you.”
Julie glanced at the body in the trunk. “Oh, right.”
“You killed Clyde. My only friend. It’s only right you should do the work. And when you’re done digging the hole, you’ll put him in the ground and bury him.”
Julie’s nose crinkled. “This is gonna take a while. Hours, maybe.”
He smiled. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”
Julie glanced down at her bare feet. “I should at least have shoes for this. Or sandals. You can still have your sexy show and my feet won’t get all fucked-up.”
The man shrugged and went to the car. He opened the passenger side door and leaned inside. In a moment he came back and tossed her a pair of white sneakers with pink trim. Julie dropped the shovel and put the shoes on. They were about a size too big, but comfortable enough.
She picked up the shovel again and started digging. It was hard, sweaty work. The day was unseasonably warm for early spring. A sheen of sweat covered her entire body within minutes of beginning the task. The crazy man watched her intently the whole time. She glanced at him once and saw him licking his lips and rubbing his hairy chest, his palm flat against the flesh, moving in slow circles. And, of course, the crotch of those too-tight jeans was disturbingly swollen. She tried not to look at him too often. It was too easy to imagine what was in his head. Same thing most guys would be thinking about-putting his dick inside her. So she concentrated on the work, pausing only to wipe sweat from her brow and take a brief rest. Her pleas for water were ignored. By the time the hole was big enough to accommodate a man’s body, she felt like she would die of thirst. She climbed out of the hole and fell to her knees, tears spilling down her cheeks as she begged again for something to drink.
“Your work ain’t done yet.”
She sniffled. “Please. I’m so thirsty. P-please…”
“Get Clyde in the ground and you’ll get your drink.”
She looked up at him through gleaming eyes. “You promise?”
He sneered. “Yeah. I promise. Now quit your bawlin’ and get this shit done.”
Julie sniffled again and managed a shaky nod. “Okay. Thank you.”
She got to her feet and wobbled over to the BMW’s open trunk. Her features twisted in disgust as she reached inside and gripped the dead man under the armpits. She lifted him and hauled him out, grunting loudly from the exertion several times. She dragged him over to the hole and rolled him into it. Then she got to work filling the space with the pile of freshly turned earth. There was an odd kind of satisfaction to watching the man she’d killed disappear beneath the soil. She stared at his dead flesh and thought of how it’d felt to stab him with the corkscrew. She wanted to experience that sensation at least one more time. She imagined the still-living one at her mercy. A knife in her hand. The blade penetrating his flesh. Ruining it. Cutting through muscle and sinew. Oh, how she’d love to cut him. Over and over. And fucking over. Until he was still and the breath was gone from his body.
Soon the task was complete, the hole filled in a tiny fraction of the time it had taken to dig it. Julie threw the shovel down and took a staggering step in the man’s direction. “Water…”
He screwed the cap off a metal flask and passed it to her. She brought it to her lips and tasted cheap whiskey. She gagged and spat the first swallow out. Then she whimpered and drank a little more. It was better than nothing. At least her mouth didn’t feel so parched.