Out Are the Lights Read Online Free PDF Page B

them.
        'Certainly I can,' Elizabeth said. 'I don't think I shall, however. If you want to be responsible for the poor man spending the entire night…'
        'I'll help.'
        'Herbert thanks you.'
        'Where are the sheets?'
        'On the bed.'
        'But they're a mess! They're all wet and ucky. We can't put him down on those.'
        Elizabeth patted a shoulder of the motionless man. 'Certainly we can. Herbert understands, don't you dear?'
        
***
        
        A car slowed down, and drove alongside Connie. Heart suddenly racing, she walked more quickly. The car kept pace.
         This is what I get , she thought, angry with herself in spite of her fear.
        She glanced at the car. A light-colored Mustang. Its passenger window was rolled down. She saw the dark shapes, inside, of two men.
        An arm beckoned to her from the window.
        'Not interested,' she said.
        The car sped up. At the end of the block, it turned right and vanished.
        'Oh shit,' she muttered.
        They'd be waiting for her. She knew. It had happened once before. On a summer night five years ago, in Tucson.
        Only then, she hadn't been alone.
        Tears suddenly stung her eyes, making the streetlights streak and blur.
        Those bastards.
        Those goddamn punk bastards.
        She would never again find a man like Dave, and they… Two of the three had knives. She could still hear the sound as one of the boys jammed a blade into Dave's belly, a sound like a punch, then Dave's breath blasting out. It was the last sound she heard before the third punk, the one with the tire iron, knocked her senseless.
        Wiping the tears from her face, she crossed the street in the middle of the block.
         If they want me, she thought, they'll have to work for it.
        
***
        
        'Now can I go?' Dal asked, stepping away from the bed.
        'Now you may.' Elizabeth moved close to him. Her nipples brushed his chest. She fingered his limp penis. 'Wouldn't you prefer, however, to join me in the shower? Unless you would rather take your incriminating odors home with you. Your darling Connie might be suspicious, if you do.'
        'I suppose. I can't get my hair wet, though.'
        'My blow-drier will take care of that.'
        
***
        
        Connie looked at the corner across the street. A car was parked there. A light-colored Mustang. Its lights off.
        With any luck…
        She started to cross the intersection. The Mustang swung around in a U-turn and shot toward her. She ran down the street, leaping onto the curb as the Mustang bore down.
        Its passenger door flew open. A teenaged boy jumped out. Connie backed away, staring at him. At his white T-shirt, his tan work-pants, his black hair and nervous grin.
        Just like the others. Like a fucking clone of the ones who killed Dave, who beat and raped her.
        'Get away from me,' she said.
        The other man came up behind him. This one was heavier than the first, but he wore the same uniform. 'Come on for a…' She couldn't make out the rest of it.
        'Yeah,' said the first. 'I'm hungry. Feel like eating some pussy.'
        'Your mother-,' Connie snapped.
        'Puto!' He pulled out a switchblade knife.
        Connie backed into the entry way of a shoe store.
        'My mother, you don't talk about her that way!'
        She stopped, back to the door.
        'Not here, Joe,' said the other. 'Too much traffic, man.'
        'My mother, she's no whore!'
        'No more than your sister,' Connie said.
        Joe snarled and stabbed. Sidestepping, Connie grabbed his wrist and elbow. Her knee shot up, snapping his forearm. As he fell, she swung around and kicked. Her foot caught the other man in the groin. He dropped to his knees, clutching himself. Her next kick hammered his forehead. He fell facedown. Connie picked up the