Then a pair of hands came up, clutching her belly. No, not exactly. But she wasn't about to fly, she was being lifted by those hands and then a head appeared below her.
It had to be Julie.
For just a moment, the woman — the witch — was above Julie's head, out of the water entirely, her naked body writhing and beating the air. Julie bent as she swung the body over her. It hit the water headfirst and threw up a frothy shower.
Chapter Forty-one
Nick stared, frozen with shock, as the body surged up out of the lake. The twisted face was not Julie's. The squirming figure kicked at the sky, and vanished with a huge splash.
Karen lunged forward, knife in her upraised hand.
Rushing in, Nick saw her reach down. Julie was gone. Where? Was she hurt, drowning? He was waist-deep and wading against the heavy push of the water when her head popped to the surface.
Off to Nick's side, Karen's left arm came up. Her hand was wrapped with black hair. She raised the woman's head. Water and blood spilled from the gaping mouth. As the shoulders appeared, she drew back her knife to strike. She hesitated. She lowered the knife. She looked at Nick. "Dead?"
"Looks that way."
Julie waded toward them. "She dead?"
"What happened?" Nick asked.
"Got her with your knife." As Julie approached, the water level dropped. The flashlight beam found her. She squinted and turned her face away. Nick groaned at the sight of her torn, bloody jaw and shoulder.
"God, Julie."
"I'm okay. Let's take her ashore."
"I've got her," Karen said.
"Good, 'cause I've got one of the packs."
Nick waited for them to trudge past, Karen towing the body by its hair. It was facedown in the water, floating along, its back and outstretched legs pale in the moonlight. Nick held the hatchet in his left hand, ready for use, but he saw no signs of life.
Julie was the first to reach the shore. She dropped the pack and returned. She and Karen each took an arm. They dragged the body onto dry land. Benny shined his light on it. Kneeling down, Nick looked at the wounds on its back, two raw pulpy gashes that slowly filled with blood.
"You sure got her," Benny muttered.
Julie turned the body over, and Nick recoiled at the sight. Benny gasped. Karen turned away, clutching her mouth. Julie muttered, "Jesus."
The torso was split from just above the mons almost to the rib cage. Entrails had spilled from the opening. They looked like a pile of dead snakes.
Julie backed away, shaking her head. Nick went to her. He dropped the hatchet and drew her against him. She put her arms around him. She felt wet and cold. She was shaking badly. "It's all right," Nick said.
"I did that," she muttered.
"You had to."
"Doesn't make it any better."
"I know. I've been through it. Remember?"
"Yeah." She pressed her face to the side of his neck. He felt the brush of her eyelashes. His right hand, still pinned low by the belt, caressed the chilly skin of her flank.
"Let's go to the fire," he said.
"I want to get the other packs."
"Are you nuts?"
"Yeah. But you love me anyway, right?"
"I sure do." He kissed her mouth. She hugged him fiercely, apparently forgetting about his wound until he flinched with pain.
"I'm sorry."
"That's okay. I hurt you last night."
She smiled up at him. "You sure did. And don't you forget it."
"I'll never forget it." "Do you still respect me?"
"No."
She laughed softly.
Nick squeezed her rump through the damp, silky fabric of her panties, and she squirmed against him. He felt a warm surge of pleasure.
"Don't make me feel too good," she warned. "I won't want to go back in."
"I don't want you to go back in."
"Duty calls." After a final, brief kiss, she eased herself away.
Karen was crouched near the shore, Benny holding the light for her as she rummaged through one of the packs. She took out a plastic case. "First-aid kit," she said. She raised it toward Nick. "Why don't you take Julie over to the fire and patch her up?"
"I'm all right," Julie said.
"You're bleeding all over yourself."
"I'm gonna get the other packs."
"I'll do that," Karen told her. "You and Nick go over and take care of yourselves."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. Go on."
"Thanks," Nick said.
He took Julie's hand, and they walked side by side toward the glow of the campfire.
"Maybe you'd better not," Benny said.
Karen pulled a dripping T-shirt from her pack, and stood up. "Why's that?" she asked.
"I don't like it."
"She's dead, Benny. It's over."
He turned aside and shined his beam on the body. It was still there. It hadn't moved at all.
Karen covered his hand. She pressed his thumb, sliding it back, switching off the light. "Don't look at it," she said. "Why don't you go on over to the fire? I'll be along in a few minutes."
"I want to stay with you."
"Okay, but keep the light off."
"I won't look at her."
"At me, either?"
"Huh?"
"I don't want my sweatshirt any wetter than it already is," she said. She wrung out the white T-shirt. Turning away, she pulled off her sweatshirt. Benny swallowed hard. He felt a little breathless as he stared at her moonlit back. The panties looked like a dim shadow across her buttocks. When she raised her arms to pull the T-shirt on, he glimpsed the side of a breast. He felt guilty about looking, but couldn't help himself. Just as he hadn't been able to keep his eyes away when she'd been at the fire.
She pulled the T-shirt down to her waist and turned to him. The way it clung, he wanted to shine the light on her. But he didn't.
"Okay," she said. "I'm going in."
"Hurry."
He watched her wade out into the lake. She was pale against the black water. She looked as if her legs were gone, as if they'd been chopped off just below the surface. The image made him uneasy. He glanced at the body of the witch, only a couple of yards from where he stood, then turned away. He switched on his flashlight, and played it over the ground until he spotted the hatchet where Nick had let it drop. He went to it. He put the flashlight into a pocket of his parka, and bent over. Pain throbbed through his arm, but faded to a dull ache as he straightened up with the hatchet in his left hand.
He stared out at Karen. She was moving slowly to the side, only her head and pale shoulders visible above the black.
Stepping close to the shore, he looked down at her sweatshirt draped over one of the packs. He remembered the soft feel of it when he snuggled with her last night. Then he pictured the way she'd looked in the glow of the firelight when she heated it over the flames and didn't know he was watching. No fair peeking, she'd said.
The witch is naked.
She's ugly and she's dead. It'd be perverted to look at her.
But he did. Her breasts, lit by the moon, were gray like stones. The nipples looked almost black.
He glanced toward the campfire. Julie was seated facing the fire. Nick, behind her, was bandaging her shoulder.
He checked the lake. Karen's head ducked under the surface, and she was gone.
With a few quick steps, he was standing over the witch. He pressed the hatchet between his knees. He took the flashlight from his pocket. He shined it down on her. In the pale glow, her breasts looked smooth. They were dingy white. He could see a network of blue veins through the skin. The nipples were very large. Their red-brown flesh had an odd, blue tinge. His heart was thundering. He felt an erection growing. He felt dirty, nauseated. But he couldn't look away.