Free Dead Girl Beach by Mike Sullivan Page B

ain’t dumb. Don’t call me that.” He bared his teeth.
    â€œThe girl was sixteen, Parry.”
    â€œSo what? Ya’ll weren’t there…you never saw. The girl’s a little P.T. That’s all she is. Know what a P.T. is, Greta?”
    She flashed an incredulous look, like she couldn’t believe what just came out of his mouth. “No, let me take a guess. Let’s see…maybe a Positive Thinker.”
    â€œWrong,” he said, with a straight face. “It means—”
    Â â€œI know what the hell it means.” She cut him off. “You don’t have to tell me.”
    Parry winced. “Well, she’s the one who started in on me first. Paradin’ that little jewel between her legs around, practically shovin’ it in mah face.” He looked at his wife, annoyed. “What was I ‘sposed to do? Pluck my goddamn eyes out?”
    Greta shook her head in disgust. Her long, bony face bristled. Her sun-damaged skin looked raw and wrinkled. As she leaned back in the seat, the nipples of her small, firm breasts dented the cloth of her blue spandex halter.
    â€œShe was sixteen, Parry. Sixteen. Like the daughter you never had. Thank Christ for that.”
    Greta drove for another twenty minutes in silence. She passed through Laluna and skirted the Venus Resort. Then, she found a secluded spot back in the foothills off the road and parked the car. The back door swung open. Parry came out first, pulling Suma behind him. She was less combative now, realizing she was only a heartbeat away from Parry’s next violent outrage.
    In a sudden irony, she thought,
quick-tempered people and violence seem to fit like hand to glove.
She didn’t think about her own temper, hiding somewhere just below the surface. Parry’s stiff fingers lodged into her back. He prodded her along a path that led up a hill to a barbed wire fence. He split the wire open. Suma ducked under, and Greta followed her.
    On the other side, they took a mountain path inland and soon arrived on top of a steep hill. They were on the northern peninsula, now—a few nautical miles up the coast from Sunrise Beach. At this late hour, Kontee Beach looked small and uninhabited down below. A mantle of twilight darkened the sky. At this elevation, the wind was cool and crisp. Suma looked straight down. The remoteness of the place scared her. The steep hill, the wild surf, and the wicked, white sand scarred with chunks of dark, volcanic rock scared her.
    â€œWe’re not going there.” Greta pointed further north. “See that little lagoon further up the coast? That’s your new home.” She laughed a little. “That’s where we’re going.”
    The rugged coast hooked into a small, inlet cove two miles north of Kontee Beach. Then, all at once, it seemed to vanish into the sea. They’d started down the hill when Suma suddenly stopped, and her head jerked back. The man on the trail further down was watching her. At first, she thought her eyes were playing tricks, but no. There it was. That face—the face of an ancient Siam warrior. It was there, glowing on the dark, volcanic rock like a 3-D picture. It wasn’t budging. It wasn’t moving. Right there, down the hill in front of her.
    The warrior’s eyes were dark. He wore a black beard and a polished, metal helmet with something sharp and pointed coming out the top. The face began to move, like a motion picture screen. As she stared down, the warrior’s lips began to move.
    Shut the light off
.
Now!
He shouted.
Don’t shine it on the water.
    She reeled back. Her eyes squeezed shut then popped open.
    â€œLight! What light?” Parry prodded her down the hill, but she refused to move. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She looked back and forth and all around. “Light. What light?”
    She felt something move up beside her, and she felt a whisper of breath at her