Free Quake by Richard Laymon Page A

think it was so close.' Tilting her head toward her right shoulder, she again pushed at the beam between her legs. Stanley watched the muscles come up in her arms and shoulders. She even had pecs that bulged near the tops of her breasts. A moan growled out of Stanley. A slip. But Sheila didn't react. Probably hadn't heard it through all the other noises. She twisted herself and raised her left leg even higher and swung her arm from the beam to shove at the edge of the tub. Though her right hand still thrust at the beam, Stanley could see past its wrist. Coils of golden hair. Pink, open flesh. 'Damn it!' Sheila cried out.
        Thinking he'd been caught, Stanley flinched and looked away fast. At once, he knew she hadn't seen where he'd been looking. She was too busy squirming, straining upward, twisting herself, trying to work her tilted head out from under the other beam. Her face was red, teeth gritted, lips peeled back. Abruptly, she quit that tactic. She flung both hands overhead and clutched the forward edge of the beam and thrust against it. Even as she shoved, her body made a quick slide toward the foot of the tub. She didn't get far in that direction before she was stopped by the lower beam. Stanley grimaced when he saw it mash her.
        She squeezed it between her thighs as if using it for a brace. Then she struggled like a trapped savage.
        Whether she was trying to force the beam out of her way or shove herself in front of it, Stanley couldn't tell. Either outcome would've worked. And she tried hard. Her whole body shuddered with the effort. Sweat poured, cutting skin-colored trails through her coating of powder and dust. Her muscles trembled. Her breasts shook. At last, she let go and sank down against the bottom of the tub, panting for air. Her arms lay limp by her sides. She shook her head. 'Can't. The beams…, not with…, them…'
        'They're sure in the wrong places, all right.’
        'I can't…, believe it,' she muttered.
        'Yeah,' Stanley said.
        If the beams had fallen differently, she might've been able to squirm free - or they might've crushed her. But the quake had rammed them into the perfect positions to trap her. If she were a few inches shorter, or the tub a bit deeper, she would be able to curl herself forward until her head cleared the four-by-eight that loomed above her face. Then, sitting up, she could slide clear of the beam between her legs. But she was too tall for that, the tub too shallow. It's almost like a miracle, Stanley thought. Everything had happened just so to pin Sheila naked and unhurt at the bottom of her bathtub. Just for me. She was put here for me. Does that mean I'm supposed to leave her down in the tub? It's not a question of supposed to, he told himself. She's like a gift. can do whatever want with her. Right now, it seemed like enough just to be with her - to look at her and talk to her.
        'Just relax for a while,' he said. 'We'll get you out, don't worry. '
        She nodded, took a very deep breath, then blew the air out through pursed lips. Her arms still rested by her sides. No more point in covering herself, Stanley realized. I've already seen what there is to see.
        Or maybe she's just too distracted to care. Thank you very much, my dear. Thank you oh so much.
        'It's really a miracle you weren't killed,' he said. 'If you hadn't been in the bathtub…'
        'I wasn't. Hadn't even started the water yet. But was in leaping distance.'
        'You leaped into the tub?'
        'More of a dive. It was very impressive. Wish Clint had been here to see it.' She smiled in the shadow cast by the beam. But the smile lasted only a moment, then trembled and vanished. 'I just wish he was here, at all.'
        'Clint's your husband?'
        'Yeah. He works in Glendale. God only knows how long it'll take him to get home. If he can get home.' Her chin started to tremble. She pressed her lips together in a tight,