Dont make a sound, Jessica.
Frantic for a breath, she nodded. The hand lifted. She sucked air into her starved lungs.
Had a little nightmare? he whispered.
He was on the bed, sitting on her, leaning forward and holding her by the shoulders. Jessica was no longer covered by her sheet. In the glow of moonlight from the windows, she saw that Kramer was shirtless. From the hot feel of his skin where he sat on her, she knew that hed removed all his clothes before climbing onto her. He had slipped her nightshirt up, too. Her left forearm rested against her chest, its cast heavy and cool.
You bastard.
Shhh. If you wake up your parents, Ill have to kill them. And you. Ill have to kill everyone. You wouldnt want that to happen, would you?
No, she whispered.
I didnt imagine you would.
What do you want? she asked. The stupid question of the year. What he wanted was obvious. But shed thought it was over.
Saturday night shed told him it was over, told him that he could find another girl, threatened to get him fired if he didnt stop. That had been the stupid threat of the year. But after finishing his little lesson, hed said, Im sick of you anyway, you disgusting slut.
Ive been thinking, he whispered. Ive been worrying.
Ib not going to tell.
How do I know that?
Dont hurt be. Blease.
I didnt come here to hurt you, Jessica. Im here for only one reason. Well, maybe two. He laughed softly. She squirmed as a hand slid down from her shoulder and squeezed her breast. Im here to teach you a lesson. A lesson about safety. For you, there is no safety. Do you understand?
She nodded.
If you should ever happen to tell someone about me, Ill come into your home just as I did tonight. There will be one difference. Ill have a straight razor in my hand. Ill begin by slashing the throats of your parents while they sleep. And then Ill come to you. A fingernail circled her nipple. Ill cut you very badly. Everywhere. It may take all night. And just before dawn Ill open your throat from ear to ear. Do you understand?
Yes.
Very good. The pale blur of his face drifted down. He kissed her sore lips. Very good, he whispered again.
Eleven
Except for the struggle on Monday morning to come up with a new story, Larry had spent the entire week on Night Stranger. That book was coming along fine. But what about the next?
He didnt feel like wracking his mind for a new idea. So much easier to stick with the familiar territory of Night Stranger. He knew where that book was going, and enjoyed the excitement of guiding it there.
This was Friday.
He couldnt keep avoiding the problem forever.
Think how much better youll feel, he told himself, once youve come up with a great plan for the next book.
A great plan that does not include a stiff under the stairs with a stake in its heart.
He found the disk from Monday, put it into his word processor and tapped out commands until Novel Notes Monday, October 3 appeared at the comer of the screen. As he cleaned a pipe and loaded it with fresh tobacco, he skimmed the amber lines. About three pages worth of material. And nothing.
A lot of crap about their vampire.
In effect, he read, you have this gorgeous thing as your slave.
Real possibilities.
Sure.
Better luck today.
Larry lit his pipe. Below Real possibilities he typed, Notes Friday, October 7.
How about a tribe of desert scavengers? he wrote, recalling the idea hed toyed around with shortly before the van reached Sagebrush Flat. They arrange accidents on the back roads, then fall upon the unlucky travelers.
Too much like The Hills Have Eyes. Besides, I already did something along those lines in Savage Timber.
Larry scowled at the screen. He wished he hadnt reminded himself of Savage Timber. That damn novel, his second, had nearly destroyed his career. A major release, and all it did was sit in the stores, thanks to that damn green foil artsy-fart cover.
Dont think about it, he told himself.
Come on, a new idea.
How about a guy who finds the remains of an old jukebox? He restores it to working order, and...
And what?
It doesnt have any records in it. He puts in his own. But it doesnt play the new ones. All it will play are the oldies-but-goodies that used to be in it. Back before it was shot to pieces by... Hey, maybe it wants revenge on the vandals who used it for target practice.
Great. A pissed-off jukebox. What does it do, scoot around and electrocute people?
Could be like a time machine. The guy gets it working, and it shoves him into the past. So he finds himself stranded in Holmans or a dive of some kind back in the mid-sixties.
Has possibilities.
Maybe the box wants him there to have a showdown with the jerks who plugged it. A motorcycle gang, or something. A real nasty bunch.
The poor guy doesnt know whats in store for him. But hes plenty upset. Its Twilight Zone time. One minute hes with his wife and kids, has a nice house and a good job. Suddenly, bam, he finds himself in a diner in a dying town twenty-five years in the past. Freaks him out. All he wants to do is get home.
Until he finds himself falling for a beautiful young waitress. At that point he begins to appreciate his situation.
Things start to get ugly when a gang of biker thugs thunders into town.
Suppose the real reason the jukebox took him there was to save the waitress? Neat. The jukebox likesher. Sometimes, alone at night after the diner closes, she has it play her favorite tunes, and she dances alone in the dark.
The way things went down, first time around, the bikers raped and murdered her. The jukebox has brought our hero back to the diner to alter the course of history to save her.
Which, of course, he does.
Mission accomplished, the box lets him go home again. But he misses the beautiful waitress. (Okay, he didnt have a wonderful wife and kids. He was divorced, or something.) He goes looking for the gal. Finds her.
Shes his mother. Hes his own father. He got her pregnant during their brief time together back in 65, and he was the baby she had.
Hed have to be about thirty years old in the present. She could be about twenty-five when he met her in the diner.
She had to give up the baby (our hero) for some reason. He was adopted, and always curious about the identity of his parents.
If she is his mother, we could give him back his wife and kids.
Neater if he finds the waitress in the present and they resume as lovers. But how would that work with their ages? Say hes thirty in the present. How could the gal be anywhere near his age when he finds her again? If shes thirty now, she wouldve been five when he saved her from the bikers.
What if the waitress he fell in love with was her mother? That would make the daughter just his age in the present. And she is the spitting image of her mother, the gal he loved.
Not bad. Might work.
Larrys pipe had gone out. He could tell by the easy draw that nothing remained in the bowl but ash. He set the pipe into its holder and returned his fingers to the keyboard.
Our main guy resurrects the jukebox. It seems evil at first, but turns out to be a force for good. And a matchmaker. He falls for the waitress, who happens to have a really cute little girl at the time. Plenty of thrills and spills and nasty crap with the bikers (make them total degenerates, monsters). By facing them down (hes scared, but comes through, proving to himself that hes a man), he ends up saving the kid who will later become his true love.
Why not?
Larry grinned at the screen.
All right! Youve got it. Spend the next couple of days working out the details, and...