Read Out Are the Lights for Free Online

knife.
        'Who'd you steal the car from?' she asked Joe.
        'Nobody! Check the registration, cunt.'
        She kicked his broken arm.
        He was still sobbing as she walked over to the Mustang. She climbed in, and drove away.
        
***
        
        'Almost dry,' Elizabeth said, running her fingers through Dal's hair as she stroked it with the hot air of the blower. 'Your girlfriend will never suspect you've been copulating behind her back.'
        'I hope not.'
        'What would she do?'
        'Ask me to leave, I suppose.'
        'That would be a pity.'
        'It'd be a disaster. Do you have any idea what I'd have to pay for an apartment in this city?'
        'Considerable, I should imagine. If that's the worst you have to fear, however, you've little to fear.'
        'Well, I don't think she's the type to stab me, if that's what you mean.'
        'Does she love you?'
        'Who knows? I guess so.'
        'Then you'd best be careful. A woman's vengeance is often remarkably savage.'
        'I noticed.'
        She laughed. 'Herbert is getting no worse than he deserves. Save your sympathy.'
        
***
        
        Connie drove the Mustang to the Seven-Eleven store. She couldn't pass the book rack without checking on Barhary Rage. After seeing that nobody had bought a copy in the last half-hour, she hurried on.
        She bought a screwdriver, a single can of Budweiser, a quart can of charcoal lighter, and a pack of Marlboros.
        The clerk dropped two books of matches into her sack.
        Connie drank the beer as she drove. Illegal, she knew. For tonight, though, she was making her own laws.
        'I hereby legalize the consumption of alcoholic beverages in stolen motor vehicles,' she said.
        It tasted very good.
        She parked in the lot of the Safeway supermarket. The store was closed, the lot deserted except for a lone VW near the far side. It looked empty.
        Connie left the engine running. With the screwdriver, she punched holes into the top of the charcoal lighter can. She emptied the can, shaking fluid onto the back seat, the floor, the front seat.
        Outside the car, she took a quick look around. Nobody nearby.
        She ripped the cardboard flap off a book of matches. Striking a match, she touched it to the exposed heads. They flared. She tossed the flaming pack onto the front seat.
        Slowly, the fire spread.
        She shut the door and walked away, sipping her beer.
        
***
        
        Red lights flashed in Dal's rearview mirror. A siren screamed.
         No, please!
        Jesus, a ticket. That's just what he needed. They write down the date and time. If Connie sees it, she'll know he wasn't at the movies.
        Then he saw that the lights belonged to a fire truck.
         Thank God.
        He pulled over and let it pass. Still shaking, he drove several more blocks. He parked on a side street, and walked to the Haunted Palace.
        ' Nightcrawlers just started,' said the girl in the ticket window. She looked awful. It took a moment for Dal to realize she was supposed to look that way.
        He gave his ticket to a fat man in bloody clothes. The man's face was twisted horribly under a nylon stocking.
        'You missed tonight's Schreck ,' said the man.
        Dal shrugged, 'I'll catch it another time.'
        At the candy counter, he bought a pack of Good 'n Plenty.
        

CHAPTER SIX
        
        Connie was in bed when Dal got home. She breathed slowly and heavily, pretending to be asleep. She didn't want to tell him what she had done.
        She didn't want to tell anyone, ever.
        She felt rotten about hurting the kids. Maybe they deserved it, but what if she'd injured them permanently? Or killed one? That guy she'd kicked in the head…
        What if a fireman got hurt trying to put out the Mustang? If the tank blew up…
        Dal climbed