Resurrection Dreams by Richard Laymon Read Free Book Online Page B

sound, then was sucked in again. And she bit it. She caught it between her big crooked front teeth and worked her jaw back and forth—grinding it, chewing it. Her tongue pushed a hole through the plastic, darted back into her mouth, and she loudly sucked air into her lungs.
    The air came out screaming.
    Melvin slapped a hand across her mouth. That muffled the noise, but he doubted his ability to suffocate her with the hand. Especially the way she was flinging herself and shaking her head. The screaming soon stopped, but she kept breaking the seal and breathing.
    Shit! He hadn’t wanted to damage her. The cellophane usually worked.
    She lurched violently, almost throwing Melvin, and suddenly her teeth found the edge of his hand. Before he could jerk it free, she bit. He felt her teeth sink into his palm, saw them break the skin on the back of his hand and go in. He heard himself cry, “YEEEOOOW!” as pain bolted up his arm.
    It took four punches with his left fist to her temple, each punch jarring her head and tearing his right hand, before he got it out of her mouth.
    She was still conscious, her head rolling from side to side.
    Melvin peeled the plastic wrap off her face.
    Her eyes were half shut. She was moaning.
    The side of her face was red from the punches, and starting to swell up.
    Damn it.
    Now she was marred.
    She wouldn’t have been pretty, anyway, Melvin consoled himself, but he hated the idea of leaving her bruised. After all, the bruise would probably be permanent.
    Maybe some make-up.
    She was stirring a little more.
    With his left hand, Melvin grabbed the hair on top of her head. He lifted her head and gave it a bounce off the floor.
    That settled her down.
    He wrapped some plastic around his hand, partly to hold in the blood and partly to give himself a firm hold. Then he picked up the other end and stretched an unbroken section of the cellophane across her nose and mouth.
    If at first you don’t succeed…
    This time, she didn’t fight it.

Chapter Six
    Vicki pressed the ten-minute snooze button on her alarm clock and snuggled down with her face in the pillow.
    It’s Wednesday, she thought. Charlie’d be heading out to the golf course, so this would be her first full day alone at the clinic. She felt a little nervous about that, and told herself to relax. Nothing was likely to come up that she couldn’t handle—certainly nothing to compare with some of the emergencies she’d had to face during her residency at Good Samaritan.
    Like Rhonda Jones. That was about the worst. Rhonda was brought to the ER by a truck driver who found her wandering along the highway, eyes slashed and both hands cut off by some maniac who’d raped her. One of the nurses actually fainted at the sight. Vicki, applying tourniquets and setting up the IV, kept a clear head and thought to herself at the time that she should be grateful to Melvin Dobbs and his Amazing Miracle Machine. Because, after seeing him try to jump-start Darlene and watching her head fall off, even the horrible mutilation of Rhonda Jones couldn’t shock her senseless.
    I don’t believe I’ll thank him, she thought.
    Saving yourself for me?
    She remembered that she’d dreamed about him again last night, and woke up gasping at around 2:30 with her nightgown soaked. She hadn’t been able to remember the nightmare, but supposed it was pretty much the same as the one she’d had at Ace’s house. She sure remembered that one.
    She’d had dreams about Melvin every night since coming back. Three times, they’d caused her to wake up. She supposed the brief encounter with him at the gas station had done a number on her subconscious. The nightmares, bad as they were, didn’t trouble her much except while she was in the midst of them.
    After all, she was used to nightmares.
    Following the Science Fair, she’d had them constantly for about two months. Then they’d become less frequent. Eventually, they’d dwindled down to one every two or three months,