Read Book of the Dead for Free Online

the armpits, someone else being lifted. She was watching a movie and the heroine was being prepared for torture. The girl’s arms were being raised overhead. The loose cuff was being passed over the top of a limb. Then, it was snapped around the girl’s right hand. The Reaper lifted her off her feet and carried her out away from the trunk. Then he let go. The limb was low enough so she didn’t need to stand on tiptoes.
    The man walked away from his captive. He crouched on the other side of the ring of rocks and struck a match. Flames climbed the tented sticks. They wrapped thick, broken branches. Pale smoke drifted up. He stood and returned to the girl.
    “A little light on the subject,” he said to her. His voice sounded as faint as the snapping of the fire behind him.
    This is okay, she thought. It’s not me. It’s someone else—a stranger.
    It stopped being a stranger, very fast, when she saw the knife in the Reaper’s hand.
    She stood rigid and stared at the dark blade. She tried to hold her breath, but couldn’t stop panting. Her heart felt like a hammer trying to smash its way out of her chest.
    “No,” she gasped. “Please.”
    He smiled. “I knew you’d get around to begging.”
    “I never did anything to you.”
    “But you’re about to do something for me.”
    The knife moved in. She felt its cool blade on her skin, but it didn’t hurt. It didn’t cut. Not Jean. It cut her clothes instead—the straps of her bra, the sleeves of her blouse, the waistband of her skirt.
    He took the clothes to the fire.
    “No! Don’t!”
    He smiled and dropped them onto the flames. “You won’t need them. You’ll be staying right here. Here in the mess hall.”
    Somewhere in the distance, a coyote howled.
    “That’s my friend. We’ve got an arrangement. I leave a meal for him and his forest friends, and they do the cleanup for me. None of this ‘shallow grave’ nonsense. I just leave you here, tomorrow you’ll be gone. They’ll come like the good, hungry troops they are, and leave the area neat and tidy for next time. No fuss, no bother. And you, sweet thing, will be spared the embarrassment of returning to campus bare-ass.”
    Squatting beside the fire, he opened the toolbox. He took out pliers and a screwdriver. He set the pliers on the flat top of a rock. He picked up the screwdriver. Its shank was black even before he held it over the fire. Jean saw the flames curl around it.
    “No!” she cried out, “Please!”
    “No! Please!” he mimicked. Smiling, he rolled the screwdriver in his hand. “Think it’s done yet?” He shook his head. “Give it a few more minutes. No need to rush. Are you savoring the anticipation?”
    “You bastard!”
    “Is that any way to talk?”
    “HELP!” she shouted. “HELP! PLEASE, HELP ME!”
    “Nobody’s going to hear you but the coyotes.”
    “ You can’t do this! ”
    “Sure, I can. Done it plenty of times before.”
    “Please! I’ll do anything!”
    “I know just what you’ll do. Scream, twitch, cry, kick, beg, drool… bleed. Not necessarily in that order, of course.”
    He stood up. Pliers in one hand, screwdriver in the other, he walked slowly toward Jean. Wisps of pale smoke rose off the shank of the screwdriver.
    He stopped in front of her. “Now where oh where shall we begin? So many choice areas to choose from.” He raised the screwdriver toward her left eye. Jean jerked her head aside. The tip moved closer. She shut her eye. Felt heat against its lid. But the heat faded. “No. I’ll save that for later. After all, half the fun for you will be watching.”
    She shrieked and flinched rigid as something seared her belly.
    The Reaper laughed.
    She looked down. He had simply touched her with the nose of the pliers.
    “Power of suggestion,” he said. “Now, let’s see how you like some real pain.”
    Slowly he moved the screwdriver toward her left breast. Jean tried to jerk away, but the handcuffs stopped her. She kicked out. He twisted away.