The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires(89)
Then loud stomps moved away from her, and she heard the springs moan, and the roach fluttered its wings, trying to force itself deeper, but it was jammed, and she felt like it was fluttering its front legs against the side of her brain, and she knew James Harris was only pretending to go down, and then there was a bang and the floor jumped, and silence, and she knew he was waiting for her.
She got her left hand ready to catch the back legs of the roach before it disappeared into her ear, and she listened, waiting to hear James Harris give himself away, but then, far away, deep down inside the house she heard a door slam.
Patricia scrambled out from under the pile of clothes, feeling mouse droppings shower from her body, tearing at her ear, and she couldn’t catch the roach, and it panicked and squirmed, pushing its way into her ear, and she grabbed her soft tissue all around it, and crumpled her ear closed. Something crunched and popped and warm fluid oozed deep inside her ear canal, and she pulled out the mangled corpse of the roach, and scraped the hot gunk out with her little finger.
Spiders crawled from her hair onto her neck. She slapped at them, praying they weren’t black widows.
Finally, she stopped. She looked at the pile of old clothes and knew that even if he came back, there was no way she could make herself go under them again.
She watched the louvers get dimmer on the side of the attic facing the back of the house, and get brighter behind the louvers facing the harbor, and then the light turned rose, then red, then orange, and then it was gone. She began to shiver. How was she going to get out? What if he stayed in the house all night? What if he came back up after she’d fallen asleep? What if Carter called home? Did Blue and Korey know where she was?
She checked her watch. 6:11. Her thoughts chased themselves around and around inside her head as the sun went down and the heat leached out of the attic. She felt thirsty, hungry, scared, and filthy. Eventually she put her feet back under the moldering pile of clothes to keep them warm.
Occasionally, she dropped off to sleep and would wake up with a jerk of her head that made her neck snap. She listened for James Harris, shivered uncontrollably, and stopped looking at her watch because she’d think an hour had passed and each time discovered it had only been five minutes.
She wondered what had happened to Slick, and she wondered why he had come back early, and why he had risked going out in daylight, and inside her cold, gummy head, these thoughts went slower and slower and melted together and suddenly she knew it was Slick.
Slick had told him she was here. That was why Slick hadn’t come. She had called James Harris in Florida because her Christian values couldn’t stand to bend the rules, and Patricia had found something, she’d found the something, she’d found Francine, but Slick didn’t care about that, she didn’t care that Patricia had told her James Harris was dangerous, she just cared about her precious, lilywhite soul.
She looked at her watch. 10:31. She’d been up here for seven hours. She had at least that many more to go. Why had Slick betrayed her? They were supposed to be friends. But Patricia realized she was on her own again.
It took a few minutes to identify the noise beneath her, coming through the floor, repeating itself again and again. Patricia wiped her nose and listened, but she couldn’t tell what it was. Then it stopped.
“What?!?” James Harris yelled. Even far away and muffled by the walls, it still made her jump.
The sound had been the phone ringing. She heard footsteps running downstairs, she heard the front door open and slam, then silence.
She sat, heart pounding, teeth chattering. Then her skin crawled: someone was scratching at the other side of the trapdoor. He was coming up again, finding the eyelet, pulling the trapdoor down. She was too tired, too cold, she couldn’t move, she couldn’t hide. Then came a noise like the end of the world as the trapdoor cracked, the springs screamed, and James Harris came up the ladder.
CHAPTER 31
“Patricia?” Kitty whispered.
Patricia couldn’t understand what Kitty was doing with James Harris.
“Patricia?” Kitty called louder.
Patricia pushed herself up on her elbows, then onto her hands, and looked over the top of the boxes. Kitty stood halfway inside the attic. Alone.
“Kitty?” Patricia said, her dry tongue sticking to the syllables.
“Oh, thank God,” Kitty said. “You scared me half to death. Come on.”
“Where is he?” Patricia asked, thoughts coming thick and slow.
“He left,” Kitty said. “Now mush. We need to be gone before he comes back.”
Patricia pushed herself up off the floor and reeled toward Kitty, knees popping, spine cracking, feet screaming with pins and needles as the blood poured back into them.
“How?” Patricia asked.
“Gracious Cay caught on fire,” Kitty said. “Mrs. Greene called and told me I needed to come get you out.”
“Where is she?” Patricia slurred, reaching the trap door.
Kitty grabbed Patricia’s waist and held her steady.
“First thing I did was take Blue and Korey out to Seewee,” she said, helping Patricia place her foot on the top step. “We told them you had to visit a sick cousin upstate. They’ve been crabbing all day with Honey and we rented a stack of movies. I’ve got beds made up for them. They’re having a high old time.”