Free Rot by Gary Brandner Page B

guess you’ll have to do. Can I come in?”
    “What do you want?” he said again.
    “Can’t you guess?”
    Behind him shots rang out as Charles Bronson continued his war on evildoers.
    A slow grin grew on Fabian’s face. “You liked it, huh? The other night?”
    “What do you think?”
    “Yeah, a lot of girls like it rough. You kind of surprise me, though.”
    “I’m full of surprises.”
    He moved back out of the doorway. “Come on in.”
    Marianne stepped inside and pulled the trailer door shut behind her.
    Fabian gestured with the Blatz can. “Want a beer?”
    “No.”
    He took a closer look at her in the light. She really didn’t look that great tonight. Her eyes had dark shadows, and there was no life in them. Her hair was matted. Her skin looked sallow and kind of loose around her face. Still, she was Marianne Avery, the candyass Homecoming Queen and cheerleader who wouldn’t have walked on the same side of the street as the Gerstner brothers before. You never knew what was going to turn the bitches on.
    He ran his thumbs around the elastic band of his shorts. “So … you want to have some fun?”
    “That’s why I’m here.”
    He frowned, remembering something. “Who’s that out in the car?”
    “Nobody important. Don’t worry, he won’t bother us.”
    “I’ll just make sure of that.” He stepped past her and latched the door, then turned back to face her, rubbing his hairy stomach. “Now we for sure won’t be disturbed.”
    Marianne reached behind her back, as though to pull down her jeans. Instead, she drew out a heavy mechanic’s screwdriver.
    “What’s that for?”
    “This is what we’re going to have fun with.”
    Jesus, a kinky one. Who would have guessed it. He said, “I got something here better than that.”
    “I doubt it,” she said.
    She smiled then, a dark, crooked smile, and drew the screwdriver back, her right hand gripping the handle. While Fabian was still wondering what she was going to do, she pumped it forward with more strength than a girl should have, and plunged the long blade into his belly just below the navel with a liquid
pop
.
    Fabian looked down at the yellow plastic handle protruding from his gut. Dark red blood welled out around it and ran down to soak the front of his jockey shorts. He looked up at the girl. Her head was cocked at a weird angle. She smiled. Her tongue slid out over her lips. He wondered at the purplish color of her tongue, then all of a sudden he felt really sick.
    He dropped to his knees and his gut started to hurt bad. He grabbed at the handle of the screwdriver, but it was slick with his blood and he could not get a grip to pull the thing out of him. He could feel the cold blade lodged deep inside. Something was loose, sloshing around in there. And it hurt worse now. Sonofabitch, it hurt.
    “Help me.” His voice sounded weak and burbly. He tried to clear his throat, but the effort made his gut hurt all the more. “Help me.”
    Marianne looked down at the kneeling young man, smiling that off-center smile. She put the flat of her hand into his face and pushed. With no strength left to resist, Fabian went over backwards. His knees popped as both legs were trapped under him. He didn’t feel the torn tendons as an icy cold began to spread up from the screwdriver blade in his belly.
    The light in the trailer got all patchy, like somebody had pulled a ragged curtain over his face. There were moving swatches of black, like bats fluttering in front of his eyes. He was cold. So cold. He wanted a blanket. Why didn’t Mama bring him a blanket?
    More and more bats flew in. Where were they coming from? Pretty soon they blacked out the little patches of light. In the back behind the bats he could see Mama standing over him. It was Mama, wasn’t it? Why didn’t she bring him a blanket? He was so cold. And his tummy hurt. He shouldn’t have eaten those crabapples. Mama warned him not to. Maybe that’s why she didn’t bring him a blanket