like a shiny silver pole, struck him hard in the chest and splashed off as if exploding. “Stop it!” he yelled.
Jeff lowered his aim.
The water drove into Pete’s belly, then smacked the jutting front of his trunks, soaking him with frigid liquid, the powerful stream whapping against his erection.
Pete turned his back to Jeff and hunkered down.
The tight rod of water poked the seat of his trunks, soaked them, pounded against his buttocks, probed between them. “Quit it!”
Suddenly, it went away.
Looking over his shoulder, Pete saw the silvery liquid slant down and strike the body’s right breast. On impact, the tube burst into glistening spray that was pink for a moment, then clear and sparkling. The breast was suddenly clean and pale and shiny. It shook as the water battered it.
Then it stopped shaking.
The water no longer smashed against it, but pounded instead against the woman’s right hand, which was raised off the ground to block it.
“My God,” Pete muttered.
The hose jerked aside.
The woman’s arm sank to the ground.
Pete looked up at Jeff, who stood atop the wall with his smile gone, his jaw hanging, the hose sending its hard shaft into the ground a short distance from the woman’s head.
“What the hell was that?” Jeff asked.
“I guess she…”
Jeff swung the hose toward her again. The strong jet of water jabbed her shoulder and ricocheted into her face.
“Don’t!” Pete yelled.
As the water pelted her face, she grimaced slightly and turned her head.
“Stop it! She’s alive, you idiot!”
The tight, hard tube of water suddenly loosened, spreading out. Pete glanced toward the wall and saw Jeff twisting the nozzle. When he looked again at the woman, the blood and filth was being rinsed from her body by a broad, heavy shower.
She raised an arm to shield her face.
Her front was nearly clean, now. The ruddy blotches and cuts and scratches and abrasions stood out in sharp contrast to the areas where her skin was undamaged.
Her cloak of blood and grime stripped off, she suddenly seemed much more naked than before.
And now she’s alive!
She was alive before, Pete told himself. Alive while we were inspecting her, talking about her.
Jeff had patted her butt.
Pete had come very close, himself, to reaching for her breasts.
Thank God I didn’t do that!
But what did I say? he wondered. Did I say anything raunchy?
He wasn’t sure.
He was sure, however, there’d been some discussion about keeping her body in the house, getting rid of it after dark.
And what else?
Jeff had talked about the semen in her.
What did I say? he wondered. Maybe nothing too awful.
But I sure looked her over. What if she knows?
She doesn’t, he told himself. She was out cold. She might’ve heard stuff, but she sure didn’t see me inspecting her.
Why did we assume she was dead? We should’ve checked! How could we be that stupid?
This is gonna be so damn embarrassing.
Maybe she won’t even survive.
No, I don’t wish that.
But who’s to say she hasn’t already been fatally injured? Maybe she’ll only last a few more minutes…
Her whole body started to move. Still being doused by the hose, she slowly rolled over and pushed herself up to her hands and knees. She stayed that way, head drooping toward the ground, while Jeff, walking along the top of the wall, sprayed her back and buttocks and the backs of her legs.
They were shiny—but red with dozens of contusions, scuffs, welts and scratches.
Jeff turned the hose away from her. Twisting the nozzle, he shut off the water until it only trickled out. Then he pulled more hose toward him. Nozzle still in his hand, he leaped off the wall. He climbed toward the woman, dragging the hose.
She remained on her hands and knees, head low.
Jeff looked at Pete. “You believe this?” he asked.
Pete shook his head.
“We thought you were dead, lady.”
She didn’t respond.
“Did you get through to the police?” Pete asked.
Looking annoyed, Jeff said, “Busy signal. I tried a couple of times. Then I figured it wouldn’t hurt to grab the hose on the way back—clean her off.”
“Sure,” Pete muttered.
You didn’t even try to call, did you? Figured you’d pull a sneak attack. Once you’ve hosed her down, we can’t call the cops.
He glared at Jeff.
“All it would hurt is every bit of evidence about who did this to her.”
“It’s cool, man. She’s not dead.”
“Yeah, right.”
“You oughta be glad.”
“I am glad.”
Jeff flashed him a strange smile, then knelt beside the woman.
She was breathing hard—her back rising and falling—as if she were trying to make up for all the