“Sligo forever!”
“My man!”
“Guys,” Lynn said. “Chill. Please.”
“Cool,” said one.
“Sorry,” said the other.
“Gunther Sligo then went on to be stunt coordinator for several films. Recently, he has made a name for himself as the director of Expungement Night, which was a big hit this year at the Sundance Festival.
“The Horror, as I’m sure you all know, was a box office smash. It not only launched several successful careers, but also an epidemic of sequels and prequels. Last time I checked, we were up to The Horror VII: The Ripper. Some have been fairly good, but there’ve been a couple of real clinkers. I’m sure you all have your favorites. For most people, though, the best of the bunch was the first. It’s generally considered to be a classic of the genre.
“Tonight, you’ll have the very rare opportunity to experience The Horror on the big screen, completely uncut, in its original unrated version. This is a version that you won’t find at any other movie theater, and you’ll never see on television. If you rent or buy The Horror at a video store, you’ll be getting the one that’s rated R. It happens to be missing thirteen minutes—thirteen minutes that you’ll be seeing tonight.”
Lynn glanced at her wristwatch. “We’re running a little late, so please save any questions for later. Now, let’s start the movie. Clyde?”
The spotlight went out.
Moments later, Lynn was gone from the stage as the movie screen went bright with color.
Black letters on a scarlet background read, MALCASA PICTURES PRESENTS
Jungle drums began to pound.
The black letters faded away, leaving the screen red and empty like a sea of blood.
The drums kept booming.
And a beast lumbered out from the left side of the screen. The instant it appeared, the small group of tourists scattered through the auditorium of The Haunted Palace erupted with applause and whistles and shouts.
The beast stopped in the middle of the screen, turned toward the audience, and roared.
Chapter Fifty-four
“LET’S BOOK!”
Entering the auditorium just before the lights went out, Dana had asked Warren, “Where do you want to sit?”
“Do you think there’s room for us?”
Of about two hundred seats, only thirteen were occupied.
“Maybe we’ll have to split up,” Dana had said.
“I think there might be a couple of vacant seats over there.” Warren had pointed to the last row, where every seat was empty.
“Well, if we can squeeze in.”
“I’ll go first.”
In the middle of the row, they’d eased down into the soft armchairs.
“Is this too far back for you?” Warren had asked.
“I don’t mind.”
“I like having the wall behind us.”
“A lot safer that way,” Dana had agreed. “And we can make out.”
As the lights faded to darkness, Warren had leaned toward Dana and slipped his arm around her back.
He’d been fine during Tuck’s presentation, even laughing a few times, mostly at the antics of Dennis and Arnold. But when The Horror began, Dana could sense his tension. His back stiffened. His right hand, gently caressing her shoulder and upper arm, stopped moving. During the first beast attack, his thigh muscles flexed rigid under Dana’s hand and she heard his breath hissing in and out.
She turned her head slightly to look at him. He was gazing at the screen, eyes wide, mouth open.
“Are you okay?” she whispered.
He didn’t respond.
She shook his leg. “Warren?”
As if dragged out of a trance, he looked at her. “Huh?”
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah. Sure. I guess so.”
“You’ve seen this before, haven’t you?”
“Sure.” Mouth twitching, he added, “A few times. Like maybe fifty or sixty.”
“You seem awfully upset.”
“Well...”
“Is it the movie?”
“I...Yeah, I guess so. I haven’t...this is the first time I’ve watched it since...you know, getting jumped.” Grimacing, he said, “I didn’t think it’d be a problem. But I guess maybe it is.”
“Let’s book,” Dana said.
“No, no. I’ll manage. It’ll be all right.”
“Sure,” Dana said. She gave his leg a squeeze, then let go and stood up. “I’m booking. Want to come with me?” Not waiting for an answer, she took his hand and pulled.
Warren rose out of his seat and hurried along behind Dana to the end of the row.
She shoved open the door and towed him into the lobby.
“You can let go, now. I’ll be fine.”
She didn’t let go.
“You don’t want to miss the movie,” he said.
“I’ve seen it plenty of times.” She pushed open the glass door and towed Warren outside. After a few more strides, she turned around and took him into her arms. He was panting for air. His whole body seemed to be trembling. She hugged him tightly.
Soon, his breathing relaxed and his tremors faded.
Dana eased her hold on him. She gently caressed his back and brushed her lips against his cheek. “Feeling better?” she whispered.
“Feel like a jerk,” he muttered.
“Nah.”
“Can’t even watch a damn movie...”
“I don’t care about the movie. I just care about you.”
Then she kissed him on the mouth, moaning, rubbing herself against him, sliding a hand down and squeezing his rump.
She felt Warren’s hands on her buttocks.
Against her thigh, she felt his rising hardness.
And she realized they were standing beneath the brightly lighted marquee of The Haunted Palace, in plain view of anyone who might wander by on the sidewalk or drive past them on Front Street.
“Maybe we should go someplace,” she said.
“What’ve you got in your pocket?”
“What?”
“‘That hard thing,” Warren said.
“Oh, that. It’s my rod.”
“Your what?”
“Reach in.”
Frowning slightly, Warren slipped a hand down the deep front pocket of her shorts. The pistol swayed, bumping against her thigh. “It’s a gun!”
“Eve loaned it to me.”
Saying Eve’s name, Dana felt a surge of worry.
Where is she?
If she doesn’t show up for the tour, Dana thought, we’d better go looking for her.
She suddenly became aware of Warren’s hand, still down there with the pistol, rubbing her thigh through the thin fabric of her pocket lining.
She met his eyes.
He smiled. “You aren’t really wearing my skivvies, are you?”
“What do you think?”
“Uh...Doesn’t feel like you’re wearing anything under there.”
“Bingo.”
“Oh, man.”
“So. Where would you like to go?”
“Maybe we can find a Bingo game.”
Dana laughed.
Warren removed his hand from her pocket, took a deep breath, and sighed. “What about...should we go back into the theater? It’ll at least be warm.”
“No,” she said, and kissed him on the mouth.
“You could go back in without me,” Warren suggested. “I’ll head on back to Beast House and help the gals with cleanup.”
“No,” Dana said, and kissed him on the mouth again. “They’d be disappointed. They wanted us to have a nice, romantic time at the movie.”
“I don’t think that’s in the cards.”