Creatures of the Chase - Richard. L. M. Ollie
and magazines; all conspiring together to create a scene that could best be described as static chaos. An ashtray filled to the brim with cigarette butts clung to the edge of a dilapidated wooden coffee table covered with scars and burdened down with its own field of trash. The sofa smelt vaguely of stale beer and marijuana. Before he could sit down, Davie had to move two battered and stained throw pillows out of the way. Janet was just in time to gather up a crochet blanket. She sat perched on the arm of the sofa, clutching the blanket and watching, mildly amused, as Davie adjusts his metal tunic before easing himself down onto the tattered sofa.
Janet was grossly overweight. As she perched on the edge of the sofa her “love handles” blossomed despite every effort by her tee-shirt to hide them. She was not a pretty picture either in a pair of jeans that strained at the seams.
Davie looked up. ‘Is everything set for tonight?’
‘Yep, you just get her back here. Heather's going off somewhere with Jess so we won't see her until Wednesday. Ted will be here by ten, just in case you need help with her.’ She chuckled. ‘He said he’d bring some stuff to spike her drink with, if it comes to it.’
‘Some friend you are.’
‘You still want her, don’t you? Besides, you’re not the one who has to live with her … tight-ass bitch. The only reason why Heather and I took her in in the first place was because we thought, with her looks, it would be wall to wall guys around here but instead we've got Miss Ice Palace; “touch me and I'll scream”. Shit!’
‘Maybe she's got someone special who …’
‘Oh for Christ’s sake Davie, I've told you a hundred times, there’s no one. We figure she's holding on to it for some super rich sugar daddy with a heart condition or somethin’. Well, I'm fed up with it and so is Heather, so either she puts out or she gets out, and you’re just the guy to do it.’
Davie looked away, quietly disconcerted.
‘Just pull her down Davie, just like we planned. By this time tomorrow, she'll realize that she’s no better than the rest of us, and she never was.’
*****
Sarah twisted and turned in front of the small mirror in her room. Once into the costume with the veils layered, it wasn’t so bad. Heather was able to talk her into going at least as far as the living room.
Davie had steeled himself, knowing in advance that if he let go with even one hubba-hubba-type remark, the evening would end before it got going and he’d find himself back in Shit Creek, only this time with a bullet through his brain.
When Sarah emerged, he smiled pleasantly, complimented her politely and escorted her out the door, thankful that Marc’s metal tunic hid what he found impossible to control. She looked magnificent. Suddenly it hit him that maybe; just maybe, he might lose her tonight to … as the tips of her fingers slipped from his and she settled into the car. She turned and smiled up at him, sending his heart flying.
Davie hesitated for a moment, suddenly unsure if any of this was a good idea, but damn it man; he didn’t have any choice. It didn’t occur to him then that Sarah had not been given even that.
*****
What an event! When Davie found out that the tickets cost a hundred bucks each, he just about flipped. ‘Proceeds to Charity - yeah like the Pre-med Student Benevolent Fund’, he chuckled. Too bad, he thought, that most of the guests were old enough to be his parents if not grandparents but thank God at least some of the old hags were wearing masks. It was all enough to give a young boy of such a delicate frame of mind, nightmares.
Davie was about to ask Sarah to dance again when Capritzo appeared. He was dressed as Lucifer, which as far as Davie was concerned, seemed entirely appropriate. He smiled thinly at Davie then turned his full attention on Sarah but Davie intervened, quickly taking her right hand, swinging her around and into his arms before whispering something that made her laugh. Capritzo moved away, visibly annoyed.
Unseen by Davie, Capritzo looked upward to the mezzanine floor and nodded. From the darkness issued two masked “demons” who hurried to their prearranged positions. Within minutes the trap was set and needed but the arrival of its intended victim.
‘Sorry Miss, room closed, room closed.’ The attendant waved Sarah away with his mop. She backed up as water continued to spill out from the ladies washroom, fanning out across the polished floor. ‘Another there,’ he pointed further along the corridor. Sarah hesitated only briefly, perhaps because by now her back teeth were beginning to float as her father used to say. Quickly she moved on.
The handicap facility was large and at that particular moment, empty. Music, piped in from the ballroom set her humming as she fumbled with the layers of veil, wondering idly how women managed in previous centuries with hoop skirts, corsets and, she thought derisively, chastity belts.
Her eyes casually traced the pattern of tiles, interrupted at one point by a large aluminum plate which, no doubt, allowed access to the plumbing and heaven only knows what else behind the scenes.
Suddenly she frowned as her mind caught on Davie. He had been extremely attentive all evening but then again he would be, wouldn’t he? Several times he had told her how beautiful she was. Soon, Sarah knew, he would speak of love. Love. Yes, she had seen that particular brand of love before, employed with a remarkable degree of success on girlfriends in high school. A love that quickly transforms into tears once the guy’s got what he wanted. He’d move on, leaving the girl sitting by a telephone that doesn’t ring then sitting in a doctor’s office as overdue as a library book. Guess who paid the fine?
‘Not for me, thanks,’ she mused as she stared at her reflection in the mirror.
Her thoughts were interrupted suddenly by a vague sense of being watched. She backed away, eager to return to the ballroom but when she tried the outer door, it was stuck - or locked. Panic took hold of her as she twisted the handle, using both hands in an attempt to force it. She was about to pound on the door, but froze instead. As if in a dream the words came.
‘Most beauteous lady.’
The scream which rose in her throat died as Maharsh covered her mouth with one hand while pulling her to him with the other. A fraction of a second later she felt the bite of a hypodermic needle, then nothing as she fell unconscious into his arms.
‘Ah,’ he sighed as he gazed down at her. Gently he caressed her face, her neck, running his right hand down and across her breasts.
‘He waits,’ his companion growled.
Maharsh nodded. Gently he lifted her into his arms then turned, moving silently back and through the open maintenance panel from whence he had come. He paused only briefly to make certain that the opening was resealed by his companion before hurrying through the service tunnel to Capritzo’s waiting limousine.
*****
Davie wasn’t difficult to find. Liz knew her Marc Anthonys and this was one version she was definitely going to enjoy being with. Nice change, she thought, from the middle aged, overweight cretins she was usually required to entertain.
‘Hi, I’m Liz.’ She smiled seductively. ‘If you’re looking for your friend, she’s talking to someone. She seems to be having a good time too, so how about we do the same?’
Davie blinked then blinked again. Her name was Liz but the hair, the costume …
‘Yeah, real coincidence isn’t it? Well heck, if you’ve got the body, why not? Here, finish my drink; I’ve had enough. Then we can dance. I bet you’re a real smooth dancer.’
Within minutes Davie wasn’t sure of anything any more. The room seemed to revolve around him, the figures in it nothing more than a series of blurred images, colour upon colour whirring