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"Want some company?" Victoria asked.
He shook his head slowly. "Didn't'cha read the sticker, honey?" he asked gently. "I don't do that sorta thing. I'm a Christian."
Victoria grimaced. "Fine."
The man nodded, waved and, still smiling, closed the door.
She moved to the next truck, knocked on the door and, when the man opened the door, he smiled and said, "You look cold, baby. You
wanna come inside?"
She nodded and he reached down to help her up...
At that very moment, Joe Grimes was kneeling in his sleeper behind a girl on her hands and knees, both of them naked; Joe was
clutching her long hair in his fist and sweating as his hips thrust forward again and again and again and he whimpered as the girl
reached back between her legs and ran her fingernails over his swinging balls until she pulled away suddenly, rolled over and pulled
him down on top of her growling, "In me, inside me now," as she wrapped her slender arms and legs around him and pressed her
cool wet mouth to his throat...
And in a truck in another part of the lot, Warren Philpott lay on his back in his sleeper, trying to lift his head between the legs of the girl
lying on top of him, but finding himself growing weak and dizzy and, oddly enough, nearing orgasm as the girl ground her mouth
against his groin, making loud wet slurping sounds...
Each of them heard some or all of the incident that took place between the two Carsey Bros, trucks, but they heard it only vaguely.
Their minds were on other things.
By the time the truck stop was plunged into utter blackness, Delbert Terry and Lumpy Turner and Joe Grimes and Warren Philpott, as
well as many others on the lot, were unconscious and bleeding. All of their money and everything of value that could be removed from
the cab were gone...
As the pale, young-looking girls prowled the back lot, knocking on cab after cab and offering companionship, Claude Carsey woke
with blood in his eyes and reached up slowly with a trembling hand to wipe it away, but another hand--cool and small--took his wrist
gently and pulled it away. A soft cloth dabbed at the blood, clearing it away until his eyes fluttered open and--in a fit of panic, Claude
flailed his arms and legs, trying to back away from the girl as he made little huffing sounds of panic but his back was pressed against
a stack of wooden crates and there was nowhere to go.
"You get your--don't you tuh-tuh--you keep away from me!" Claude sputtered in a high voice, slapping the girl's hand away.
She backed away, giggling. "Just trying to help," Amy said.
Claude's head throbbed and blood still dribbled from the wound on his forehead, but the pain was eclipsed by his revulsion at being
touched by the girl ... by one of them. Simply being so close to one of them made him shudder. He struggled to his feet, looking
around, but the room spun and the floor tilted and he slid back down the crates onto his ass. He held his head between both hands
and groaned, "Oh ... oh, God ... oh..."
Amy squatted down before him, clasped her hands between her knees, smiling. It was a big smile that showed her fangs. "Not feeling
too well, Mr. Carsey?"
The smile didn't fool him. He knew she hated him. They all hated him. They hated Phil, too. But they needed both of them, so the truck
drivers were tolerated. But only barely. Sometimes he saw the way they looked at him, the way they watched him when they thought
he didn't notice, and those looks haunted his sleep ... what little he got.
Claude wanted out. He'd wanted out so bad for so long that he couldn't remember why he'd gone along with the whole thing in the first
place. It was sick and, worst of all, deadly. And for the money they got from the girls' little late night excursions in one truck stop after
another, it certainly wasn't all that profitable considering the fear that came with it all. Fear of his own brother as well as those ...
things. The constant fear.
And now he was here with Amy, probably the worst of them all; there seemed to be something different about her, something ...
restless and angry.
"Go away," he said, his voice hoarse. "Get away from me, just go away."
"Sorry, but--" She shrugged, raising her brows helplessly. "--we're kinda stuck here, you and me."
"What? Where? Where are we?" He tried to get up again but the dizziness showed him back to his seat.
"In the basement of the restaurant. I think. Don't quote me."
"Well ... I gotta go. I gotta get back to--" He was about to say he had to get back to his brother before Phil got pissed--Phil was pissy
all the time, but when he really got pissed, death became a nice thought and Hell seemed like a vacation paradise--but something
occurred to him. Maybe he shouldn't say anything. Maybe Amy was chummy with that guy who'd chased him and had, apparently, put
him in this dark chilly place. After all, he--whoever he was--was one of them. Maybe something was going on ... something bad.
Maybe they were planning something. That was a thought that frosted Claude Carsey's heart.
He tried to relax, but couldn't and pressed his stiff back hard against the crates to get as far from her as possible.
She only leaned closer. Smiling again. That sharp-fanged smile that was like an ad for Satan's very own brand of toothpaste. "It's just
you and me, Claude. All alone. At least for a while. I got a friend now, see? Someone you don't know. Your stinking brother, either. In
fact, none of you know him, including that fucking freak you cart around in your truck." Still smiling around the bile in her voice:
"Somebody who likes me. He's gonna do things for me, Claude. And he's coming soon." She leaned very close, only inches from his
face, and there was a smell ... It wasn't her breath, because they really didn't have any breath; it was just a faint smell that sort of
wafted up from deep inside her--the smell of old meat covered with spoiled preserves--and it made Claude's face screw up. "Then ...
when he gets here ... I figure we can have a little fun. The three of us."
Claude used to believe in God as a child. He'd gone to Sunday school and church with his parents and sung songs about Jesus. That [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]