Dwayne's hands gently caressed her shoulder, running up and down the length of her arm in an idle, casual way and she smiled, closing her eyes.
Effortless.
That's how they were together, perfect and effortless.
His actions, the way his fingers danced over her skin was so casual, so thoughtless but intimate, romantic at the same time.
She loved it. She loved how perfect they were together, how easy everything was when she was with him.
She sighed softly, almost imperceptibly though she knew he would have heard it perfectly.
She wished she could have taken it back, sucked the sigh back in but it was too late.
He'd heard it and he was probably going to try and get her home, back to her bed where she could fall asleep safely but she didn't want to move.
She didn't think she could move.
She wanted to sleep but she didn't want to break this moment, either.
The night was cold now and while her body was pressed against his, her back flush against his torso and her head resting on his free arm, she was still feeling the chill. Her dress was fairly short anyway, a summer dress for a summer's day and the sweat that had gathered at the nape of her neck, between her shoulder blades and that had dampened her hairline had since dried.
It was all adding to the cold but she didn't care.
Hell, even if she did care, she was too boneless to do anything about it.
The little sigh had been the most movement she had been able to muster since they'd slowly sunk to the floor, spent and panting, clinging to each other.
Dwayne's body was comfortable and even though the cold concrete was sinking through her dress, chilling her hip and thigh, he was shielding her from the wind and in that moment, it was enough.
She could feel the cold but she didn't care about it...but of course, her mate and her love knew everything and, as his husky murmur met her ears, she managed to keep her second, contented sigh to herself.
"We should go, baby"
She kept her eyes closed.
"C'mon"
His lips grazed her head and she made a little noncommittal noise, something between a groan and a grunt. She didn't know how long they had been there, lying on the narrow stretch of balcony but she did know that she wasn't inclined to do anything any time soon.
"Elizabeth? Are you OK?"
OK?
Was she OK?
The intensity, the passion, the dominant power, the crushing orgasms, his hard body, the kisses, the moans, the wind, the night.
OK?
No words could come close to describing how she felt but the word 'OK' was almost an insult; she was so, so far beyond that...but she was tired.
Spent, exhausted.
She couldn't begin to try and explain how inappropriate the word was, how with him everything exceeded OK and how it always would...so, she made the noise again, nodding once.
She was cold, she wanted to sleep but God, what did it matter?
What did it matter if she was cold?
Everything else was perfect.
Cold was nothing.
He kissed her temple and she smiled.
"Liz?"
She groaned a little protest, not wanting to talk.
She just wanted to lie there and bask, to let the exhaustion pull her into sleep.
"Should I worry?"
She couldn't help the little tilt of her lips at his words.
Worry? If anything, he should be congratulating himself, stroking his ego, celebrating his display that night but no. He was thinking about her.
God, she loved him.
"You killed me"
"In a good way?"
"The best"
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Shhh" against her wishes, her eyes fluttered open and she lifted her hand limply, pressing her finger against his lip before lowering them again, the effort too much for her.
She nestled into him, letting her eyes droop a little more.
She thought the only reason she wasn't passed out, deep asleep was because of the cold.
"Tired?"
She nodded.
"Let's get you back"
"I don't want to move," now that she had spoken, she could feel a tiny bit of energy coming back to her and the question fell from her lips, "...Dwayne where did that come from?"
"You liked it?"
"That was...God, that was intense...I think I came a million times.."
"Twice"
Was that it?
Twice?
"Felt like more"
His hand trailed lower, down onto her hip and she could feel his smile as he murmured, "shall we make it three?"
"No!" she laughed weakly, limply pushing his hand away, laughing again when it found its way back to her hip, this time dipping lower, "there's no way I can come again. I'm dead, I don't have the energy"
"I love a challenge"
His finger slipped into her underwear and she took a breath, threatening to move her body with a twitch of her shoulders but still to spent to actually do so, "I'm going to find the door"
He smiled, nibbling her ear and stilling her with his own body, "there isn't one"
"What?"
"Balcony's just for decoration. No door. Only way inside this lighthouse is the door at the base and the only way off of this thing is in my arms"
She shuddered as the pad of his thumb grazed her, "who would put a decorative balcony on a lighthouse nobody even sees"
She could feel his smile as his lips met hers, "it's Santa Carla" he shrugged, her body moving with his.
"I can't come again, it's-" she was silenced for a moment as he deepened the kiss, "-mm-impossible"
She was so tired, her body so heavy.
She didn't have the energy to go again.
Except, as his body covered hers and her hands found their way into his hair, pulling him close to her, she found that she did.
Dwayne smiled as Elizabeth murmured in her sleep, her eyes moving wildly under her eyelids.
He knew what she was thinking about, he knew that she was remembering rather than dreaming and he truly felt like he could stay there until sunrise, watching, sat in a half crouch as his mate slept.
If he didn't have something to do, he would have.
She was naked under her thick blanket and he'd already draped a second, lighter one over it just to make sure she wouldn't be cold when he left. He had tried to get her into some pajamas but when he got her home, she had all but collapsed into the bed.
Her clothes were in a messy little pile on the floor beside the bed, testament to just how tired she had been. He had moved towards her closet, fully prepared to dress her himself but she had protested with an endearingly innocent little, "nghh" sound and that was that. She had fallen asleep so quickly, so deeply that they hadn't exchanged their goodnights and he knew she would regret it in the morning.
That was her style.
She was sweet, sentimental...
...and she was his.
Elizabeth turned her head, expelling a little puff of air from her softly parted lips as she did and he allowed his smile to fall, a wry little grin in its place instead.
She was so perfect.
How he had ever lived without her, he didn't know.
Rising to stand, he looked at the window before glancing down at her little desk area. He saw it straight away when he came in, her copy of Dracula and a baggie filled with rose petals. He had started to ask her about it but the second he'd put her feet on the ground, she'd all but fallen forward towards her bed and his question had fallen away in turn.
He knew the flowers, though.
He recognized them instantly.
They were the ones Paul and David had sent her.
He hated them; he hated the sight of them but he knew they were special to her. He knew that she had forgiven the two men fully; he knew that to her the flowers represented their friendship, her acceptance into the pack. To him it was a reminder of his friend's epic and horrific fuck up and he wanted nothing more than to put them in the trash but judging from the way they had been preserved - not particularly well, it was obviously her first time drying flowers and she'd lost a few in the process - he knew she wanted to keep them forever.
She'd gone to a lot of effort to save them.
Again, he felt himself smile.
He couldn't imagine a life without her anymore but it was funny, he had to admit, that someone so innocent and kind as her would be destined to become a vampire, fated to be the mate of a man who was proud of his darkness.
They were polar opposites; they shouldn't work but they did.
He loved her.
He loved her more than he could express and it was because of that he was going to leave her alone tonight, leave her to sleep silently and safely in her bed.
Scooping up the book and the petals, knowing that she wanted him to take them without having to be told, he headed for the window. He would keep them safe at the cave tonight and ask her about them tomorrow. At that moment, he had other things to do.
He had someone to see.
"Jealous, bro?"
As he opened the window, glancing at his mate for the last time that night, he jumped out into the dark night sky.
"Jealous, bro?"
Softly shutting the window, ensuring Elizabeth's comfort, he reached out to his pack.
Jealous?
Not even remotely.
Protective?
Absolutely.
Zack frowned as he zipped his jacket up. The attendant's booth looked warm and comfortable and, as he peered into the window, he could see a steaming cup of coffee and he could hear the radio playing softly. Somebody was around...but where? He didn't mind pumping his own gas but he wasn't going to leave without paying and whoever he had to pay was making it pretty damn difficult.
"Hello?" he called out, knocking on the door.
It jangled a little and he frowned again, bringing his fist down.
It was a cheap little wooden door and he wasn't sure it was designed to withstand a great deal of force, which was a weird feature in a building that housed a cash register and a human who ran it. It wasn't so surprising, though. The whole town of Santa Carla was a bit old and worn and rough, it made sense that the outer regions would be, too.
He glanced back at the car, hearing the engine idle softly, and saw the vague figures of his three friends sleeping. The two girls in the back, both of them resting their heads against an oversized beach ball strapped into the middle seat and then his friend slumped back in the passenger seat, his neck back and his mouth open.
Well, he couldn't see the mouth gaping open from this distance but he knew it was.
Sometimes it sucked being the driver, he kind of wanted to crash, too but it was what it was.
"I need to pay for gas?" Zack shouted, cupping his hands over his eyes as he peered into the booth again.
It was quite brightly lit inside but it looked like there was a shadow towards the back a little, tucked in the corner and under a long and overfilled display stand. He squinted, wondering what he should do.
Leave the cash on the floor?
On the gas stand?
He drummed his fingers against the glass once and shrugged. He didn't feel right just leaving the cash out but what else was there to do?
He turned around and jerked, frozen to the spot as he stared at his car.
Heart thudding, he felt a rush of ice travel up his spine and could taste a mouthful of metal.
He blinked and gasped and exhale, moving his hand to his chest.
He took a step back, pressing his back against the closed door of the booth.
For a second...
"Jesus" he swore, shaking his head, "Jesus Christ..."
Heart still pounding, he swallowed.
It had looked like there were three men sitting in the car instead of his sleeping friends.
It must have been a trick of the light but...
"Shit..."
He was just going to leave the money.
Fuck it, he was obviously over-tired.
Heart still pounding, he shook his head.
He turned to the booth and this time a scream erupted from his lips as he flung himself backwards, his ankle catching as his feet went from the smooth concrete floor to the rough and chipped asphalt of the small and empty parking lot.
There, standing strong and tall in front of the illuminated window was a man.
He grinned, showing straight, white teeth and his eyes sparkled with unkind humor.
He raised his hand once in a show of acknowledgement - not apology - and slid open the window, the latch he'd flicked clicking as the window moved upwards.
"Sorry, kid" he spoke, his voice rumbling.
He was chewing gum and, as he popped it, he jerked his head towards the car in the distance, "you weren't thinking of leaving without paying, was you?"
"No. No, no I uh-I tried-I was...I've been stood here for ages.." Zack took a breath, swallowed and took another one, "I knocked"
"I was in the john"
"Right"
Zack blinked, looking at the man.
How old was he?
His long hair, unruly and speckled with grey, was tied back in a haphazard way, his voice was kind of gravelly and his skin was wrinkled, tanned and aged from working a hard job rather than the years passing by...but the teeth were white and perfect, he was popping gum like a teen and his ears were pierced all over. His overalls were a faded denim and the name, 'Hank' was embroidered on the chest in red.
"Can I help you with something?"
Zack shook his head, swallowing again, "No. No, sorry"
"You could take a picture, kid, it'll last longer"
Zack rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head, "sorry. Uh, it was um, it was twenty-five, right?"
He just wanted to get out of there.
"If you say so"
With trembling hands, Zack unfurled a wad of tens from his pocket, "I don't need the change, it's OK"
He didn't actually have a lot of money to spare, everyone had pooled gas money from the start and the guy hadn't pumped the gas, he didn't deserve a tip but to get out of there, he was willing to lose five dollars.
"Patronizing me, boy?"
"No, I just-"
Zack stopped speaking, his heart thudding as he looked up just in time to see a thick stream of brown dribble out of the old man's mouth...and this time, there was no doubting his age.
He was an old man with wrinkles and crow's feet and liver spots and Jesus, where was the gum?
How had he confused that?
There was no gum, the guy was chewing tobacco and his teeth...
He took a step back.
The teeth were stained a dark brown, the plaque thick and yellow and his lips were chapped, with flakes of damp white skin peeling off and pooling wetly in the corners of his mouth.
He was repulsive.
The denim overalls were stained with droplets of food down the front, long, circular sweat stains from the armpits almost down to the hips.
"You want to take that picture?"
Zack jumped and took a step back, shaking his head, "n-no"
The old man grinned, exposing teeth that were rotten and gaping and Holy Shit this can't be real, this can't be real, this can't-
-a loud ding rang out and Zack gasped, reflexively spinning around to the source of the noise before blinking, looking behind him in fear...but the booth was empty.
The old man wasn't there.
"Fifty, right?"
Zack jumped again, feeling sweat pooling around the back of his neck and streak down his forehead.
Swallowing heavily, arms trembling, he turned towards the speaker and with a mouth that felt drier than he had ever known, he spluttered a confused, "w-w-what?"
"You wanted fifty?"
The speaker was a young man with curly blonde hair and a defined but sort of cherubic face. He was wearing overalls but they were black with no name embroidered on them and they looked relatively clean.
He was wearing a utility belt and there were some rags and tools hanging from it.
Zack shivered.
"...no...no I-I already...I did it already...I filled it with-with twen-twenty-five"
The guy tilted his head, "twenty-five? Alright, man"
"No-no" Zack stepped forward, "I already..."
"No" the man corrected, "you didn't. You went to the toilet. Are you alright?"
Zack took a breath, his limbs still trembling.
He looked over his shoulder but still, the booth was empty.
"Yeah"
"Did you wanna make a call or something?"
"No"
The guy nodded and continued to pump the gas.
Zack frowned as the numbers began to click away, steadily getting higher and higher, the clicking of the changing tabs loud enough for him to hear. He wanted to look behind him again but he obviously looked as crazy as he felt and he found himself coughing instead, shifting on the spot and moving towards the car.
"Been driving long?"
"Um. I guess?" maybe he was just tired. Maybe that's all it was, "I, uh, we came from Santa Carla"
"We?"
The guy pumping the gas gave Zack a strange look and Zack pointed at his car, "yeah, we-"
He took a step back.
What the hell?
"Where are my friends?"
"Your friends?"
Zack nodded, feeling himself beginning to panic dully, "my friends. Two girls and a guy, in my car. My friends"
"Are you tripping?"
The clicking of the increasing numbers seemed to be getting louder.
Was he tripping?
No.
No, he wasn't.
He wasn't.
"Where are my friends? What's going on?"
"What friends?"
"My-" Zack froze, staring at the man with a horrified frown.
Faded denim overalls with the name 'Hank' embroidered on the breast.
"What's happening?"
He felt sick.
He could feel his heart thudding but his chest felt tight and, as he stared at the name, he found himself trying to count to ten in his head.
One.
He was too afraid to look up, too frightened to look into the face of the man.
He was sure it had changed, too.
Two.
The dinging of the changing numbers seemed to get louder and louder.
Three.
Four.
Five.
"Twenty-five, you said?"
The voice was gravelly and rough, aged.
Six.
Zack took a step back, trying to swallow but found his mouth dry.
Seven.
Eight.
He whimpered, the rags hanging from the man's utility belt were dripping blood and-
"-oh God"
Nine.
"Ten"
Zack cried out, spinning on the spot again as the old man's voice seemed to bite his ear.
He could feel his stale, warm breath and he could feel his ear burning, almost having felt the brush of lips but God there was nobody there, there was nobody there, there was nobody-
"-Zack?"
This time he felt his bladder release, he could feel the trickle of urine spread through his boxers and through the fresh denim of his jeans. His legs all but gave out from under him and he didn't hold back his sob as he fell to the floor, sitting heavily on his collapsed ankles, the edges of his sneakers digging into him.
"Zack?"
He looked up, breathing ragged.
He felt nauseous, sweaty and simultaneously hot and cold.
He could actually feel sweat pooling on his brow and he could feel the damp stain of urine, warm against his thigh.
Oddly, disjointedly, he was thankful he didn't have a full bladder.
"Hey? Zack are you-"
"-what happened?" his voice was hoarse and he realized, with a strange and almost movie like feeling of being outside of his body, that he was actually sat in the car.
He was inside his car.
He wasn't outside, he wasn't on the floor.
He was sat at the driver's seat.
He was inside the damn car.
His fists were wrapped around the steering wheel and he could see the whiteness of his knuckles.
"What-what the fuck?" he could barely speak, "I-the gas..."
The heater was on and the car was warm; he was wearing a t-shirt and still in his shorts from the beach. He could feel his bare feet against the soft but firm foam of his flip-flops.
He wasn't wearing jeans.
"What the fuck" he repeated, feeling his eyes well a little in fear, relief and confusion, "the-gas-wha..."
"Yeah, pull up ahead"
"What?"
"You're getting gas?"
"What?"
There was a crumple of paper and Zack turned, swallowing thickly to look at his friend.
"...dude, what's up with you? You zone out or are you sick?"
"I don't-I don't understand"
"What don't you understand, man?"
There was exasperation in his friend's voice and Zack glanced in the mirror, seeing that the two girls were still asleep in the back.
Their heads were resting on an inflated beach ball and he swallowed, feeling sick all over again.
"I think-I-I'm not getting gas. I already-I did" he shook his head.
He didn't understand.
Was it a nightmare?
A premonition?
He didn't know.
"I wanna get out of here"
"Huh? You have to get gas. Cars run on gas, our is low"
"No"
"Do you want me to drive?"
"...no" Zack shook his head, "where-where's a motel?"
"A motel?"
"Yeah"
"...there's a gas station just up there, man" he shook the map that was in his hands, "we could walk to it, it's that close...why do you want a motel?"
"People"
"What?"
"I want people"
"Zack, man..I'll drive, come on"
"No"
"Dude, I'm tired. Whatever changed in the last five minutes-"
"-five minutes!?"
"Shhh" he hissed, "you'll wake the girls up"
Five minutes?
All of that had happened in five minutes?
...all of what, exactly?
Zack swallowed again and leaned forward, his forehead resting on his knuckles over the wheel.
"Dude, look, maybe you just zoned out while I was looking at the map, OK? It's been a long day. You're tired"
There was a fair level of reason in his friend's voice, a bit of sympathy but most of all there was tiredness and confusion.
"Pull up at the gas station and we'll changeover"
"Station?"
"What?"
The exhaustion in his friend's voice was back, the small shred of sympathy gone.
"Gas station? Not stand?"
There was the crumble of paper again as the map was checked, "says station"
"We're really alone out here"
"The fuck, man?" his friend groaned, "we're hardly in the middle of nowhere. Three cars passed while we were parked up"
"They did?"
"Yeah"
Zack shook his head; he couldn't remember seeing many cars at all during the drive but the knowledge that three had been by recently comforted him.
Plus, the gas station must be pretty big.
It was on the map.
"Can we make it quick?"
"You're the driver"
"Can we swap when we get there?"
"Yeah, whatever"
Zack glanced over at his friend before swallowing again and moving to start the engine.
He felt himself shiver when he realized it was already on, he could feel the faint rumbling of the engine as it idled but of course the engine was on.
Where else was the heat coming from?
"Dude?"
"Sorry"
His throat felt dry and hoarse.
When had he had a nightmare last?
"I-I think I had a bad dream"
"Alright"
"I think-I think I pissed myself" it was hard for him to admit to that but he wanted some comfort, he wanted some support.
He wanted his friend.
"Smells like it"
"What?"
Zack looked to his side, shocked by the reaction he'd received. He'd expected a laugh at worst but what the hell was that sort of comment?
"I said, 'smells like it'"
The boy, his friend but not really his friend, smiled widely, the grin not meeting his eyes.
His eyes were dull.
"I can smell it. I can smell your fear. I can smell your piss"
Zack began to push himself away from the car, he fumbled for the handle but he couldn't take his eyes from his friend, he couldn't turn his body.
He could feel the window handle digging into his lower back and he buried himself in it, his fingers scraping against the door.
"Poor little Zack"
"You're-you're-"
"I-I-" the puppet of his friend mocked.
"Oh God"
He could feel his stomach flipping and he grimaced as his nail snagged against the door handle.
He was so close to it but he couldn't focus, he couldn't grip it.
He was going to be sick.
"Not in the car" his friend said with a laugh, "puke's triggering. You puke, they'll puke, I'll puke"
The laughter seemed to echo.
He looked over at his sleeping friends, readying to call out to them but he choked instead, finally managing to open the door and fall out, landing hard on his back.
He cried out, trying to find his footing and scramble away from the car, from the horrific scene and nightmare he still found himself in but he stumbled, hitting the ground again and scraping his palms.
He heard the door slam and though he didn't want to, he found his eyes focusing on the tall and loping figure of a man.
It wasn't his friend.
Wild blonde hair and bright, sparkling eyes. He gave a wave, showing slender fingers covered in rings and-
"-Oh God"
Blood.
Was it Sarah's? Jane's?
Jesus was it Dean's?
Where was his friend? If this horror show of a man had been in the passenger seat, where the fuck was Dean?
And the body? The body, whose was it?
All he had seen was a slumped body, the glistening and shining pools of blood splattered around.
Zack felt himself wretch.
The man laughed.
"Sarah's" he said, showing teeth that were stained red and waving with a hand that seemed to be saturated in crimson, "'s'all Sarah's blood"
"Jane's over here, see?"
Zack managed to cry out this time and he spun on the spot, twisting his ankle awkwardly as his legs tangled under the frantic and heavy weight of his body.
The second speaker had curly hair and his hands were wearing cut off leather gloves, the fingers twirling idly around Jane's thin and straight hair.
The man from the gas station.
But there was no gas station.
"What the hell" he blubbered, "what-oh God-wha-what's happening?"
"I thought this was a somewhat disproportionate response" came a droll, dry voice and Zack desperately scanned the vicinity, trying to locate the speaker. There was a hint of sympathy there and he wanted to plead for help. Maybe there was a chance, "but then I realized what an asshole you are, Zack"
He wanted to vomit.
No chance.
Whatever was happening, whatever was going on, there was no chance of mercy from the men, whoever they were.
"Jane-"
His voice broke and he coughed.
"She can't really hear you, man" the curly haired blonde said, looking down as he weaved Jane's hair through his fingers, "but she's gonna go make a call in a second anyway, aren't you?"
Jane nodded.
"Jane! Help me!"
"With what?" the wild hair blonde asked, licking some blood from his lips, "you're pissing your pants on the floor. We haven't done anything to you"
"Yet"
Zack knew that voice.
As the speaker stepped forward, seeming to emerge from the darkness, he felt faint.
"You"
"Me"
There was a horrible promise of revenge on the man's face.
He felt sick all over again but his heart thudded and for a second he felt a moment of hope.
The girl.
The girl from the beach.
Whatever was happening, it was because of her but he hadn't done anything. He hadn't done anything so nothing could be done to him.
That's how it worked.
He hadn't laid a finger on her; he didn't touch her.
He'd thought about it, he'd thought about what he would do if they were at a party. He'd thought about how easy it would be to take her on a date, slip something in her drink...but that's all it was.
Thoughts.
He'd done something like that before but that was before and it had nothing to do with her.
Nothing at all.
He was just thinking about it.
He didn't act on the thoughts; how could he act on them? He was passing through; he'd never see her again.
He didn't do anything wrong.
Anyway, even if he did get her on a date that night, he had been with his friends. Nothing would have happened.
Nothing would have happened to her so it really was just thoughts.
He didn't even have anything on him to slip in her drink.
He was in the clear, he didn't do anything.
All he did was think.
Nothing more than that.
He didn't do anything wrong.
He could plead his case; he knew it was going to be OK.
"D-Dale?"
The three men laughed, the brunette smirked.
He was handsome, no denying it, but his face was cold and hard.
Dangling from his belt, tucked into the aged leather strap was a baggie filled with rose petals and the whole image made Zack shiver.
It was romantic but horrifying at the same time.
"Dwayne"
"Yeah! Yeah, yeah, she called you Dwayne. Yeah, I remember. Look, man, I didn't do anything, I didn't-"
"-you wanted to. You were thinking about it"
"What?"
"You were thinking about it"
"No, no, no I-I no, I didn't-"
"-you're telling me you didn't imagine our girl passed out on a sofa with your grubby little hand sneaking up her thigh?"
"-I-" with wide eyes, Zack turned to the curly haired man. That's exactly what he had been thinking about but only after she had rejected him, "-I-"
"-or were you imagining her limp in the backseat of your car? You wouldn't care if she was responsive, right? As long as you were getting what you wanted"
He looked over to the curly haired blonde and swallowed.
He hadn't thought about her in his car or on the sofa. Well, he had but they were fleeting thoughts.
She had been cute; her dress was short.
Alone on the beach, she was the type of girl to put out and she had said no to him and-
"-n-no-it-she said no and-"
"-and that's what you do to girls who say no?"
"Wow. You're a grade A cunt, man"
There was such a reasonable frankness in the bloodied blonde's voice and Zack swallowed desperately again, eyebrows furrowing as he struggled to defend himself, as he suddenly couldn't see any blood at all on the speaker.
What was happening?
Was there blood or not?
What was happening to him, what was he seeing?
What was real?
"No! No I never-I-I did it just once but-I mean, I did but-not-I-I don't even know her. I didn't do anything to her, I'm not from here and-"
"-let's just back up a second" the cherubic man had released Jane's hair and she smiled dimly up at him, "establish the facts. You look a little flustered, Zack"
Zack felt a cool bead of sweat trickle down his back.
"How many girls have you roofied?"
"No-I-it wasn't-I don't-"
"Nah, nah, Marko he didn't roofy Claire"
Zack jumped.
How could they know?
How did they know Claire?
What the hell?
He hadn't told anyone, Claire had kept quiet, too, shame he assumed keeping her from speaking out...but speak out about what?
And shame about what?
It wasn't bad, it wasn't wrong.
There was nothing to speak out about, nothing to be ashamed of...they did what couples do...
She'd gone to the party with him, she'd been his date, she had to put out, she was his date for crying out loud, she-
"-he made her drinks and even though she said she didn't want alcohol, he kept sneaking some on into her drinks. Got the balance of vodka just right, didn't you, man?"
Suddenly, Zack's mouth felt dry.
That's exactly what had happened.
How did they know?
But she had been his date. And then she turned all frigid? It was a party, everyone was necking and making out and fucking and his date was all stiff and square. He had just helped her along, he knew she wanted it, she just needed the push.
"Right, right. Alcohol. I got it" the man, Marko said with fake understanding, like a student who had just solved a complex math puzzle, "things get a little jumbled sometimes"
Zack knew it was a lie.
All four of the men knew exactly what they were saying.
There was nothing jumbled or confused about them.
He heard himself whimper.
"So, you've done it once and you realized how easy it was, you see Elizabeth and you think you could do it again. To her."
"No! I-but-just once-"
It hadn't even been good. Claire had been so drunk, so limp she could barely keep her mouth open and her teeth kept grazing him and-
"-I think once is enough, no?" the ice blonde asked with a cold smirk.
How could they know about it?
What was happening?
So what if he'd gotten Claire a little drunk?
He hadn't done anything to the girl.
"But I didn't do anything to her!" Zack shouted, spittle flying from his mouth.
It kept coming back to the girl on the beach and whatever he may have done in the past - just once! - he hadn't done anything that night and even if he'd thought about it, they were just thoughts.
"He didn't do anything to her, Paul" Marko said and Zack looked desperately at the wild haired blonde, blinking as he saw blood on his mouth once again, "oh, s'ok then. S'all cool"
What was happening?
"I didn't do anything to her!"
"You were thinking about it" Dwayne responded flatly.
"See, that's what it's gonna keep coming back to, dude" Paul said.
"We're quite protective of our own" Marko added, "even if they're only thoughts".
Zack felt his chest constrict and he broke out a sobbing, "I didn't do anything to her"
"You wanted to"
"No, no, I wasn't-I-she isn't even that cute, I just-"
His words fell into nothing and he swallowed again.
The air was cold, the atmosphere thick.
He knew he had said the wrong thing.
Dwayne was smiling softly.
"Well, Jane and I are going to go and make a call" Marko casually told the group at large, grinning at Zack as Jane wrapped her hands around his arm, "she forgot to tell her Dad that you guys changed your mind"
"Wha-"
"Hey, Jane" Paul called, "what were we talking about earlier?"
Jane said nothing, blinking up at Marko with a soft smile and Zack once again felt his bladder release.
Or was it the first time?
Was he pissing himself for the first time or not?
Had he imagined it before?
He didn't know.
He didn't know.
"Tell him" Marko commanded.
"Sarah and I wanted to hang out in San Francisco instead of Santa Carla-"
"-Jane!-"
"-but Zack wanted to go to the beach, so he and Dean drove up to Tomales Point to hike and swim. Sarah and I got a hotel in the city and the guys are going to meet us in the afternoon. I'm gonna tell my Dad that I'm sorry I didn't call earlier; it's just that our hotel has a pool and we were hanging out"
"Jane!"
Jane blinked, smiled and added, "I'll tell my Dad I was sorry we got his machine and sorry for calling so early but I woke up and realized that I should have told someone about our change of plans"
Paul and Marko grinned and Zack began to crab crawl backwards.
"Jane?" the ice blonde asked, lighting a cigarette, "why should you have told someone about your change of plans?"
"We didn't change plans! We're here, Jane! We're in Santa Carla, we-we went to-"
But Jane didn't hear him, "-because it's dangerous. Something could have happened to us and our families would be looking in the wrong place"
"Jane, no Jane we're-we're in Santa Carla-Jane-"
Paul laughed, "no. You're over at Tomales Point, my man. And when you don't pick up your friends, that's where they're gonna go looking for you. When something happens, that's where they're gonna go"
"Not that they'll find you"
"Don't worry, though. Sarah and Jane are going to be fine. They're going shopping in the morning-" Marko said casually.
"-well, at a more reasonable time in the morning" Paul interrupted.
"We're not too hungry right now" Marko said with a shrug, "so they get a pass. Good for them, huh?"
"Pass?"
"They'll find Dean's body. The police, I mean. Not the girls. I'm sure Jane's Dad'll pick them up when they phone him again, nervously telling him their ride ditched them"
"Not too far a drive, right? Sacramento isn't far. Jane's Dad seems like a cool guy"
Jane didn't react.
"No"
"'No, no, no'" Paul rolled his eyes, "dude, your vocabulary is seriously limited, have you not realized we know everything?"
"Sarah!"
Marko shook his head, "sleeping. Don't worry about her, we'll get them a nice little hotel"
Zack didn't know if they were lying.
He didn't know what to believe.
"Dean!"
"Ah" Paul said with a grin, "Dean"
"Dean" Marko said.
"Hmm Dean" the ice blonde mused.
"Where is he? Dean!"
"You two are a pair. It'd be weird if only you went missing"
"Oh God"
"You know what?" Marko asked with a sigh, "it's getting late. This whole thing seems like so much effort"
Zack took a shuddering breath.
"San Francisco is an hour or so away" Paul said with a nod.
"Her Dad might pick up the phone" the ice blonde murmured, "this time of the morning, anyone who gets a phone call expects the worst"
"Shit yeah. He'll probably jump out of bed"
"And it does seem strange that she'd phone at, hey, Zack what's the time?"
Trembling, feeling hopeful but also a sinking feeling of dread, he continued to crawl backwards.
Paul shrugged, "let's say it's close to two. Weird for her to phone now"
"Fuck" Marko droned.
Paul clicked his fingers, "I thought we had this plan in the bag"
"It does seem like a lot of effort now and potentially a lot of trouble"
All three men turned to watch Dwayne and, heart thudding faster than he had ever experienced, Zack did the same.
The brunette shrugged, "I guess that's it then"
All four men watched Zack and he continued to crawl backwards; eyes focused on the man.
Dwayne.
That's it then?
That's what he had said.
It was over.
Whatever the fuck was going on, it was over, it was-
-his body froze as a strange, loud and distinctive snap rang out in the air. He had never heard a sound like it but, as he turned in numb horror, he knew exactly what had happened.
He knew what it was.
As Jane's lifeless body thudded to the ground, he was dimly aware that he was screaming.
The blood was back, covering the blonde, Paul, and Zack knew that it was real.
He knew that Sarah had been dead all along.
The blood had been there all along.
Jane's body, dumped forgotten on the floor was real.
The terror he felt was real.
Clearly, despite the fog of horror he found himself in, he knew that they had been playing with his mind.
Somehow, they had been playing with his mind but everything he was seeing now was real.
He knew he was going to die.
For a second, he thought he could hear himself begging but all he could focus on was Dwayne's small, promising smile as he advanced towards him.