Authors: Kristopher Rufty
The Skin Show (28 page)
Miles
smiled.
A
few minutes later the three of them were approaching the Chevelle. Miles tossed
Hoffman the keys as he walked around to the passenger side. Karen stumbled, and
Miles was quick to catch her. He held her up as Hoffman unlocked the door,
climbed in, and reached across the seat to get Miles’s door.
After
helping Karen into the back, Miles sat down, groaning as he got comfortable.
The seat welcomed him like a padded hug. His aching body tingled, happy to
relax.
Hoffman
cranked the car. The engine rumbled as he revved the gas.
“So,
you
drove her, huh?” said Hoffman, patting the steering wheel.
Miles
nodded. “Yep.”
“Told
you she likes you.”
“I
don’t think she liked me at first.”
“Did
you grind her?”
“Yeah…a
bit.”
“Well,
I’ll check things out when we get to our next destination.”
“Where’s
that?”
“Georgia.”
Karen
said, “Count me out.”
“What
are you going to say when you get back home?”
“Nothing.”
Hoffman
nodded. “Can you get away with saying nothing? Will anyone be able to put
things together?”
“No
one knew I went to see Andy…no one knew we came here. And, no one knew about
The Skin Show. It’s going to take me a long time to get over this…if I ever
can. Andy was a good guy…a
really
good guy…” Her voice went wavy and
thick.
“You
may never heal from this. But, we’ll keep in touch, and if you ever want to
join the crusade…” Hoffman gave her a comforting, grandfatherly smile. “You’re
always welcome here.”
Miles
smiled.
Karen
groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
Hoffman
laughed, despite the situation. It sounded odd to hear after all they’d just
gone through, but it was contagious. Miles felt his chest hitching, gusts of
laughter pushing though his lungs. He tried to hold it back at first and, realizing
he couldn’t, let it flow.
Karen
eventually joined in.
When
the laughing spell faded, Hoffman started driving.
Miles
said, “Think we got them all?”
Hoffman
was quiet for a moment. “As you saw, the imps cannot survive without the
queen’s life force, but the nymphs can. However, they will need male souls to
feast on…but without the queen’s guidance and lack of nourishment, I doubt
they’ll live long. And, the ones that don’t die off will just hunt down the
next queen for nourishment. Either way, we’re done here.”
Miles
prayed he was right.
“It’s
time to move on to the next one.”
In
the wan evening light, Jerry Bradshaw saw her curvy shape on the verge of the
road, against the graying sky, a narrow line of arm extended out from her and
another smaller contour pointing away from the tip.
Hitchhiker.
And
from the looks of her, a fine one.
He
didn’t care if she was a dog, it got lonely on the road, and he was confident
she’d repay his favor of a ride with a sexual gesture of appreciation. Call it
a stereotype, but Jerry enjoyed a good road job from time to time.
It
helped keep him sane on long stretches of open road like this.
As
he dropped the rig down to a lower gear and slowed the eighteen-wheeler, he
wondered what she was doing way out here by herself. He hadn’t spotted any cars
broken down as he’d traveled west.
Must
be thumbing the whole way.
The
brakes hissed spurts of air as the truck slowed to a halt. Leaning over, he
pulled the latch for the passenger door. “Where you headin’?”
The
door opened and a thin, but firmly stacked body, climbed in. She was wearing a
denim skirt, sandals, and a white tank top saturated with so much sweat it was
now as transparent as a wet tissue. He saw the points of dark nipples and
sloping arches of breasts through the wispy clothing.
“Granite
Falls,” she said, pulling the door shut. “It’s near Brickston.”
“I’ll
be passing right by that town. Should be there around two in the morning. Got
some business out there?”
“Looking
up Karen, an old friend. She’s going to be surprised to see me.”
“Fine,”
he said, pushing down on the gas pedal.
The
truck started rolling. Jerry didn’t bother checking for traffic behind him.
This part of the highway was usually empty from this hour until sunrise;
sometimes he
never
saw another car out here.
Before
he lost all sunlight, he took this moment of shifting gears to study his
passenger. She sat in such a way, it made his job of stealing glances much
easier. She sat with her rump angled towards him, her left leg thrown over the
right knee, and the denim skirt hiked back so far he saw the lower dip of her
left buttock. No panties for sure. Her auburn hair was in pigtails, which was
Jerry’s favorite way for a woman to style her hair. His passenger couldn’t be any
older than twenty. Hopefully she wasn’t too much younger, or he might go to
jail for doing what he hoped would be happening soon.
The
only downfall to her that he noticed was the scar on her stomach. The way her
tank top wrinkled around her waist, a band of skin was exposed to show a small
pockmark that was pale against her skin.
“Checking
out my scar,” she said.
“Huh?”
Jerry blushed. “Well…I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s
okay. Just a little altercation I had with Karen a little while back.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,
but its healing a little every day. Before long, you won’t even be able to
notice it.”
“Well,
that’s good.”
“What’s
your name, lover?” she asked, leaning across the armrest, and placing her hand
high up on his thigh. The tips of her fingers brushed his penis.
“Juh-Jerry.”
“Ooh,
Jerry.” She clucked her tongue, wrinkled her nose as if thinking. “Wonder what
that’s going to sound like when I’m screaming it later.”
Yes!
Jerry
hid the excited jig he wanted to dance in the seat. He shrugged. “Guess we’ll
find out soon enough, huh?”
“Guess
so.”
Her
hand cupped his penis and squeezed. Jerry moaned.
“What’s
your name, darling?” he asked.
The
girl smiled. “Alexia. And trust me; you’ll definitely be screaming that name
for the
rest
of your life…”
More titles from Kristopher Rufty
Novels:
Angel
Board
Pillowface
The
Lurkers
Oak
Hollow
Prank
Night
Novellas:
A
Dark Autumn
The
Night Everything Changed
Praise for Kristopher Rufty
“A powerhouse debut novel. Rufty's prose will suck you in and
hold you prisoner!”
—Ronald Malfi,
author of
Floating Staircase
, on
Angel Board
“A creepy, gripping tale of horror. And it's got one of the best death
scenes I've read in a long time!”
—Jeff Strand, author of
Pressure
, on
Angel Board
“An occult thriller with a new twist. Rufty juggles captivating characters,
breakneck suspense, and insidious horror in a macabre story that will leave you
feeling possessed by the end of it. Next time you think about taking that old
Ouija board out...forget it!”
—Edward Lee, author of
Lucifer’s Lottery
and
City
Infernal
, on
Angel Board
“Kristopher Rufty delivers the goods yet again!”
—Bryan Smith, author of
Kayla Undead
and
The Late
Night Horror Show
“Rufty knows how to bring the scares and mayhem like a
charging bull with chainsaws for horns. No one is safe!”
—David Bernstein, author of
Machines of the Dead
and
Amongst
the Dead
“Pillowface is the best book I have read in a long time!”
—Hunter Shea, author of
Forest of Shadows
and
Evil
Eternal
“Kristopher Rufty is the demented reincarnation of Richard
Laymon!”
—Jeff Strand, author of
Wolf Hunt
and
Stalking You
Now
Kristopher
Rufty is the author of the books Pillowface, The Lurkers, Oak Hollow, Prank
Night, and A Dark Autumn. He has written and directed the independent horror
films Psycho Holocaust and Rags. What he’s best at is being married to his high
school sweetheart and the father of two crazy children he loves dearly.
Together they reside in North Carolina with their giant dog Thor and a horde of
cats.
For
more about Kristopher Rufty, please visit his Website
www.lastkristontheleft.blogspot.com
He
can be found on Facebook and Twitter as well.
