"You oughta be reading The Hardy Boys instead of all that weird junk."
"You don't think there are zombies?"
"I sincerely doubt it."
"What about witches and vampires and werewolves and ghosts?"
He wrapped his arms around the soft sweatshirt. "It's awfully late, Benny. Can't we pick up this conversation in the morning?"
"If you want," he said. He sounded disappointed.
Scott sighed. "I just think it's all people's imaginations. Stuff they made up to frighten each other, like Karen's story about Doreen and Audrey, or Flash's about the guy and the arm. Just stories."
"I don't know," Benny said.
"Well, it's just my opinion. I haven't read a hundred books on the subject the way you have. But I've been around for thirty-eight years and my life's been relatively free of things that go bump in the night. If there are ghoulies and ghosties out there, they've been minding their own business. I haven't lost any sleep over them — until now."
"I guess you want me to be quiet."
"We have a lot of hiking to do tomorrow."
"I'm not very sleepy."
Terrific. "Try to think about something pleasant," Scott said.
"Okay. I'll try. Good-night."
" 'Night, Benny." He heard the boy sigh and roll over. Turning onto his side, he eased the sweatshirt up against his face. He wondered if Karen was cold without it. No, the sleeping bag would keep her warm. And soon he would be with her. If Benny ever fell asleep.
Karen wondered if he would come tonight. Maybe not. He might be worried about the weather. If he came and it started raining, Julie would catch them. That'd be an embarrassment for everyone.
But he'd whispered, "See you later," when he kissed her good-night. He obviously planned to take the chance. He could've changed his mind, though.
It was still early. He couldn't leave his tent until Benny was asleep. He had to worry about Julie and Nick, too. Give all of them time to conk out.
Might be a long wait.
One of her shoulders was cold. She slid down deeper into the bag, the slick fabric making whispery sounds against her skin. She crossed her ankles, folded her hands on her belly, stared up into the darkness, and smiled. Scott would be in for a pleasant surprise when he found her already naked.
If he comes.
He'll come, she told herself. Oh, yes.
She wished she could sleep. Though every muscle ached from lugging her pack up that awful trail, she wasn't the least bit tired. She was wide awake and eager, trembling slightly.
At last, she heard a soft crushing sound behind the tent. It was barely audible over the noise of the wind. It might have been nothing more than a pinecone falling to the ground, but it might have been a footstep. She let out a shaky breath, and listened. For a few moments, she heard only the wind rushing through the trees and mountain gaps. Then came another quiet crunch. She was sure this time that it was a footfall.
He's being very cautious, she thought. Maybe he's not certain Julie's asleep.
With a shaky hand, Karen unzipped the side of her sleeping bag.
The footsteps stopped at the front of the tent. She heard the rustle of the flap being eased aside. Shutting her eyes, she waited. Her heart was pounding hard. She lay motionless, breathing deeply, trying to feign sleep.
He was inside now. She could hear him crawling along the tent floor, coming slowly closer. He stopped beside her.
He smelled bad. Like sweat and urine.
Her eyes flew open. The face above her was a dim, grinning blur in the darkness and it didn't belong to Scott. She opened her mouth to scream. A hand slapped across it. The other hand swept down. Something crashed against the side of her head.
Scott propped himself up on one elbow, and stared at the dark bulk of Benny's sleeping bag. He listened carefully. The boy was breathing in a slow, steady rhythm.
Finally.
He opened his sleeping bag, and felt the cold slide over his skin. He sat up. He folded Karen's sweatshirt and tucked it under one arm. As he started to rise, he heard a soft tapping sound on the taut wall of the tent. Then another. Suddenly, the tent was being pattered by a thousand raindrops.
He muttered, "Shit," lay down again, and zipped himself into his bag.
"Ohhhh crap!" Julie wailed.
Nick's eyes fluttered open. He wrinkled up his face as raindrops smacked it.
Julie kissed him quickly on the mouth. "Better inflate your Mae West," she said.
Then they were both scurrying out of their sleeping bags. Julie shoved her feet into her boots. The rain soaked through the back of her warm-up jacket as she gathered up her bag. "Oh, damn damn damn damn!" she cried.
Nick grinned at her.
She snatched her rubber pad off the poncho, and raced for her tent. The flaps weren't zipped. She lunged inside, flopped forward, and landed on the soft heap of her sleeping bag.
There was a startled grunt.
"Sorry," she gasped, and raised her face. Beside her, near enough to touch, was a bare rump. The legs were wedged between another pair of legs.
He's screwing Karen! The thought hit her like a punch in the stomach, knocking her breath out. She shoved herself off the bag and crawled backward. He reached out and grabbed her wrist. "Let. " Then she saw his face. She screamed and wrenched her hand free. She flung herself away, falling through the tent flaps. Rain splashed her face. She started to squirm away. The flaps flew open and a naked man dived out, a huge knife in one hand. He landed on Julie, slamming her flat on the ground. He clutched her throat, holding her down while he pushed himself up and straddled her hips. He plunged the knife into the earth by her face. He yanked the neck of her jacket, found the zipper, and tugged it down. She bucked with pain and screamed again as a rough hand squeezed her breast. The hand went away. It jerked at her pants. She felt the wet ground under her buttocks. Then he had both her arms pinned down and he was heavy on her and shoving his knees between her legs to force them apart and his mouth was on her, mashing her lips. She heard a yell, and his head snapped back as a bare foot shot past her eyes.
Her father was there, grabbing the man's hair, ripping at it so the head bent back, chopping with his other hand at the bridge of the man's nose. Blood spouted, mixed with the rain hitting Julie's face. The man rolled off her. He scrambled away on hands and knees.
She rolled onto her side. As she pulled up her pants, she watched her father dash toward the man. The man was on his feet now, trying to run, but Dad was gaining on him fast.
Then there was a pale figure sprinting in from the side. Nick! In his upraised hand was a hatchet.
Dad slipped on the wet ground. He windmilled, trying to get his balance, and went sprawling headlong. As he skidded, he grabbed for the man's foot. He missed. The man glanced back at him. He crouched and picked up a rock and took a step toward her father, then saw Nick and staggered back. Nick swung. The hatchet caught the stranger high in the chest. Nick tore it free and prepared to strike again. The man took a few wobbly steps backward, and fell.
Nick dropped to the ground and vomited.
Flash, running toward him, yelled, "Stay with the girls!" over his shoulder to Alice. He stopped over the body. "Oh, God," he gasped.
Julie got to her knees. She tried to fasten her zipper, but her hands shook too badly, so she hugged the jacket shut.
Benny was walking slowly forward, unsteady, hands out as if to help his balance.
Dad pushed himself up. He stared for a moment at the body, then ran toward Julie. "You okay?"