Interpreter for the Dead Page 18

  She was alone. His heart raced at the thought.

  Then she stopped and turned, yelling something as she pointed to her wrist. She wasn't alone. The boy emerged from the other side of the car carrying an armload of thin hoses, small bottles of paint. The boy, the freak, reached up and untangled one of the loose hoses from his necklace. The necklace with the hand on it, just like the one he had given the girl. They hurried through the door.

  After a moment he got out of the car and followed, the bouncer paying more attention to the topless waitresses.

  The further he went inside, the louder the music got. It felt like his skull might split in two. He took a table at the back, far away from the spotlights. A waitress appeared and he ordered the two drink minimum, all the time watching for the girl. Without warning the music stopped and all the lights went out. A drum beat came hammering out of the black, followed by a heavy metal riff and the cat-like wail of the singer welcoming everyone to the jungle.

  Three half naked women dressed as park rangers and carrying whips pushed steel cages onto the stage and threw open the doors. Women body painted as tigers and panthers and leopards poured across the stage, slashing and gyrating across the floor. The crowd roared and stomped, slamming their glasses on tables.

  He knew none of them were his girl. She was in the corner by the DJ. The boy was busily airbrushing orange and black stripes across her stomach and breasts, as she quickly tied her hair up in ponytail. She closed her eyes and he painted a swatch of black over her eyelids and the bridge of her nose. When she opened her eyes they stood out bright and wicked. She grabbed the boy's face and kissed him hard, and made the hand sign for "I Love You" as she leapt onto the stage.

  She pounced on the first park ranger, bringing her down to the stage and clawing off her top as she bared her plastic fangs and growled. The men were on their feet, throwing dollar bills onto the stage.

  He watched as the show went on, heavy metal driving the girls, and crowd, on. He watched the freak standing in the corner, swaying to music he could only feel as he quickly turned three more women into brightly colored animals for the next part of the show.

  He looked back at the stage, panicked when he couldn't find her. She came back around, pulling the boy by his hand, pulling him away from the music and disappearing into the shadows.

  Now.

  Slowly he made his way through the crowd to the back of the stage. The music seemed to fade away and soon all he could hear was the steady beating of his heart. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out the gun. It felt warm and alive in his hand.

  He was no longer worried about how it was going to happen. It was preordained. He couldn't stop now even if he wanted to.

  Flashes of light broke the inky black of the hallway as men came and went from the bathroom. The dressing room lay just beyond. The other men seemed to pass through him as if he were invisible. With every step he felt more and more as if he were in a dream. Rhythmic light and shadow played on the floor outside the last door at the end of the hall.

  The door would be locked. It was. He would grab the rickety handle and turn it until it gave. It did.

  They were surrounded by a halo of light coming from the vanity bulbs behind them. She was sitting with her legs wrapped around him, and he was thrusting away at her - blocking her view of the door until it was too late.

  He watched her eyes go wide and felt the gun explode in his hand.