On Emma's Bluff - Sara Elizabeth Rice, edited by davebccanada (best ereader for academics .txt) 📗

"No," Emma squeaked as she jerked herself upright and scrambled for her bra.

"This is disgusting. This is wicked." A look of contempt covered her face. "And you, Bill Simmons, you better get out of here and not ever be showing your face around our place again." Barbara Lee did not avert her eyes as Emma struggled to get the heavy black dress back on again. Bill just stood there dazed.

"You best be going," Emma urged him.

Bill looked from cousin to cousin not knowing what to say. He raked strands of hay from his pant's legs and hid his manhood absentmindedly.

"I said get out of here." Barbara raised her voice loudly.

"Uh, see ya later," he spoke to Emma.

"Not when my daddy hears about this," Barbara Lee interrupted.

Emma could not believe this was actually happening. She could not believe her cousin was really going to destroy her life. How could this have happened? A sick feeling ached in her stomach like a stone. There was nothing she could do but follow Barbara Lee to the car.

Across the highway on the deserted dirt road next to Lacey's house Red was feeling an apprehension of his own. It was almost one a.m. and still Red had seen no activity in the house he watched. Where was Wallace Caine hiding? And to top it off when Harvey Johnson had finally reached Red on the police radio he had given Red an earful. He made it clear that he didn't appreciate being called in on such a ‘damn fool plan.’ Red knew if he ended up with no clues or revelations after this he would never hear the end of it.

Harvey had informed him that Lacey had left his spot once, but that the patrolman who tailed him had reported that Lacey had only gone to the liquor store and straight back to the Tanner's. Well at least he knew Lacey was under surveillance, maybe it was time that he stirred up a little action himself. Red decided he would have to search the house.

He pulled the fuse on the inside lights so as to not call any attention to himself as he got out of his car. Because the gravel crunched below his feet, he was forced to walk on the mushy side of the road. The house was a good hundred yards from him, but the closer he got to it the darker it loomed before him.

As he reached the front porch he realized that his boots would make too much noise on the weak floorboards. He would just have to leave his boots outside. He wasn't even sure if the front door would be locked, but it didn't seem likely. Besides the lock was the kind that accommodated an old fashioned skeleton key so he was sure he could pick it. "I should have called Harvey before I left the car," he realized. But it seemed too late to go back and do that now. "No turning back," he told himself.

It turned out that the front door was not locked and opened as soon as he gave it a push. Without lights or Lacey's presence the living room looked ancient and forbidding. The heavy old furniture squatted like lurking figures. Red took a moment to let his eyes adjust.

A quick look into the kitchen turned up nothing. He wasn't really expecting anyone to be in there anyway. He started down the center hall. The bathroom door was open but no one was in there. The first closed door Red came to squeaked gently as he turned the glass knob. "Damn," he sighed and stood stock still waiting to see if this sound had aroused any one.

After deciding it was finally safe he pushed open the door. An uneven feather bed stacked high with boxes was in the center of the room. The debris that lay on the floor attested to Lacey's poor housekeeping. Other than this the room was deserted. The second room offered more. This room was reasonable well kept and filled with fine old furniture. The smell of rosewood hung in the air. Though worn, the floral pattern of the rug was still colorful. Red walked fully into the room. It was much tidier than the rest of the house. A sound in the next room made Red spin around. Holding his breath, he turned on his heels to find the source.

As Red crept back into the hall he saw the door of the last room. It was from there that the sound had come. Red paused outside of the door listening before slowly taking his gun from its holster. He gripped the doorknob tightly and turned. In a slow whine the door swung open. Instantly Red made out the tall form that stood in front of the window with it's back to him. Slowly the form turned toward him.

"Stop or I will shoot," Red called out. The tall man continued to turn. The dead glare from the man's face froze Red's heart in his chest. "Stay still Wallace or I will have to shoot you." Red gripped the gun in both hands. The man in front of him showed no sign of understanding. He took a step towards Red. The sheriff cocked the gun. Wallace Caine did not flinch, he merely continued towards Red. In a quick squeeze Red fired off two shots. What happened next drove Red's balls into his body.

The bullets only hit Wallace Caine with a splat and embedded into the body leaving no wounds, no gaping holes, no splintered limbs. For the most part Wallace looked unharmed. Red frantically shot off the rest of the rounds but to no avail. Even a direct hit to the head only made a sick slurping sound as the bullet entered the brain and flesh rushed to cover the hole after it.

Red could not seem to be able to make his legs move fast enough to get out of the house. He raced down the hallway bouncing off the narrow walls as he ran. He turned to see the monster of Wallace Caine following. In the living room he fell over a foot stool and a sharp pain racked his knee. He heard a crack but he did not bother to look back. This time he half stumbled half crawled on to the porch. He could hear Wallace crashing through the house behind him. He spotted his car down the road. Though his knee felt like a squashed grape he took out at his fullest speed for the patrol car.

Only glancing back once, he could make out the hulking gait of the creature that followed him. He would have to do better if he were going to beat it to the car. Just as he reached the driver’s door he stumbled again. He looked up to see Wallace ten feet away and gaining. He grasped desperately for the door handle and jerked the door open. Head first he dove into the seat. He pulled the door closed and locked it just as the heavy bulk of Wallace Caine hit against it.

"Oh God," Red screamed into the car. Wallace's face with its dead expression pressed against the window at him. The creature said nothing as it began to raise its massive fists and pound the front windshield. Red reached into his pocket for his keys. They weren't there. The pounding continued.   The glass was beginning to crack in a spider web form from the beating. Red sobbed into his hands as his search produced no keys, and then he saw them. They were glimmering in the grass just outside the door.

The windshield bent in from the blows. Red, crouched low in his seat bellowed loud cries of fear. A hand was tearing its way through the broken glass. "Oh God, No," Red barely heard his own scream as the whole torso broke through upon him. No longer did the creature even resemble Wallace Caine. What he saw before him now was clearly the rotted form of an old woman. 

In the dark shelter of the car on the way home, Emma took her cousin's berating.

"I just don't know what to think of you, Emma. My Momma and my Daddy take you in to their home, when nobody else in the whole family wanted you, and you can't wait to make us look like white trash while you make a cheap whore of yourself. God Almighty, how many other boys in that high school have you screwed. Is that why Bill Simmons asked you out? It's a miracle you aren't pregnant. You aren't are you?"

"Barbara Lee, you don't…" was all Emma could fit between her cousin's harsh words.

"You might as well know. I've had my doubts about you and not just boys, Emma. I know you smoke pot and I don't for one minute approve of it and neither will my folks. And don't try to deny it. I have smelled it on you. I could smell it on you at the carnival tonight. And that little tramp, Cindy, you hang around with, well I just don't know what to do with you."

"It's none of your business," Emma said deadly. She had begun to feel cold and numb.

"Well, let's just see what my parents have to say about that," Barbara Lee replied haughtily.

It was that night that the dreams started for Emma. Crushed under the massive depression of the situation, Emma had been afraid that she would have trouble sleeping at all. But the dark slumber overtook her almost as soon as she rested her head on the pillow.

“It's okay, baby," Bill's dream words soothed her. He was lying beside her in a huge hallow of a quilted mat. "I love you, I always will." His hand stroked her smooth forehead and toyed with the curls that fell near her brow. In the dream she felt as heavy as a stone. "I won't let anything bad ever happen to you." He trailed kisses across the palm of her hand. He squeezed her fingers between his. Her eyes opened to study his face. The stark whiteness of his complexion seemed all wrong. Then she saw the jagged wound at his temple. No blood spilled from it, only a gash with ragged edges and white papery skin.

"What?" The words came as a hoarse whisper from her as she reached for his face.

"For you, always for you." His expression strained to show concern,