Free Resurrection Dreams by Richard Laymon Page A

on her lap, legs stretched out, feet propped up on the table and crossed at the ankles. She didn’t look too bad. He’d cleaned her up after last night’s experiment, had even bandaged her broken skin, applied makeup and brushed her hair.
    “Still dead?” he asked.
    She didn’t move. She just stared at the blank television.
    “Last call for a come-back,” he said.
    Nothing.
    “Speak now, or forever hold your peace. I’m gonna bury you. Want me to bury you?”
    Nothing.
    “Okay. You had your chance.”
    He took a last mouthful of popcorn. Chewing it, he slung the body onto his shoulder and headed for the garage.

Chapter Eight
    Dexter was waiting for her, that morning, when Vicki passed his door. It came as no big surprise. She had dressed in a warm-up suit.
    Good morning,” she said and kept on walking.
    “Hold on, there.”
    She turned around, but didn’t approach his door. Dexter stepped out into the corridor.
    “Come here. I won’t bite.”
    Maybe you won’t bite, she thought, but you’re still a creep. She took a couple of steps toward him, anyway.
    He wore his faded blue robe. His hands were stuffed in its pockets. “You gonna keep going out in the dark, no matter what I say.”
    “I need to get my exercise.”
    “You kids always think it can’t happen to you.”
    “I don’t think that at all,” Vicki told him. “But I’m not about to spend my life hiding. Besides, who’s to say I’d be safe in my room? An airplane could crash on the building.”
    “That’s about as dumb a remark…”
    “It’s nice that you’re concerned about my safety,” she said. She doubted that he was concerned about that. More than likely, it was just a convenient subject. All he really cared about was stopping her for a talk and a look. “I appreciate it,” she said. “But I wish you’d quit bothering me about this business. I’ve gone running in places a lot more dangerous than Ellsworth, and I’m still around to talk about it. Nothing you can say is going to change things. So how about just letting it drop? Okay? I’m in no mood for lectures at this hour in the morning.”
    Dexter raised his thick eyebrows. A corner of his mouth turned up, but he didn’t look amused. “Aren’t you the feisty one.”
    “I don’t appreciate getting hassled by you every time I try to go out.”
    “Hassled? I’m just giving you some friendly advice. You want hassle, just wait till some lunatic throws you down in the dark while you’re out there running your little butt off, and sticks his peter in you.”
    Heat rushed to Vicki’s face. She felt her heart slamming. “That’s what you’d like to do, isn’t it?”
    Dexter’s face darkened. “You don’t talk to me that way.”
    “I’ll talk to you any way I please.”
    He grinned, baring his upper teeth. “You been taking smart-mouth lessons from your pal, Ass?”
    She went rigid and glared at him. “I’m outa here. You can rent your damned apartment to somebody else.”
    “Hey, now, you can’t…”
    “Just watch.” She whirled away from him and headed for the lobby.
    “Bitch!”
    She pushed through the door and rushed for the sidewalk.
    After her stretching exercise near the end of the block, she ran. The running quieted her outrage. She decided that the blow up with Dexter had been a good thing. She might have stayed on at the apartment, otherwise, and tried to put up with him. Moving would be a drag, but not nearly as bad as suffering more encounters with that son of a bitch. She would make some calls from the office, later on. With any luck, she’d be able to find a new place today. Move out in a few days. The last of Dexter Pollock.
    When she reached Central Street, she headed north and ran through the park. But starting down the slope toward the beach, she looked toward the playground equipment. Someone was sitting on one of the swings.
    The guy from yesterday?
    Just a vague shape in the darkness, but he seemed to be about the same size as the