Funland - By Richard Laymon Page 0,140

leapt. Hands grabbed at them, and they kicked and twisted their way free. Someone lunged in from Shiner’s side. Her elbow sent the troll hurling backward.

A dark shape blocked the doorway.

Jeremy threw himself at it.

Hands clutched his jacket, yanked him forward, and flung him into the lighted corridor. Tanya caught him. Turning away from her, he saw Samson tug Shiner out of the black room.

Cowboy was leaning against a wall, Liz sobbing against his chest.

The door slammed shut.

Samson tried the knob, then hit the door with his shoulder. It didn’t give. He rammed it again.

“For Godsake, don’t!” Tanya blurted.

“Karen’s not out.” He shot his foot forward, smashing it against the door just beside the knob. Still the door stayed shut.

Samson turned around and leaned against the door frame, shaking his head. His face was twisted with an expression of horror.

Shiner put a hand over her mouth. She stared at Jeremy. Her eyes looked wide and dazed. She was breathing hard. Her white blouse was open to her belly, twisted and hanging off her left shoulder. Her shoulder was streaked with scratches. She had a bloody handprint on the white cup of her bra.

Jeremy went to her. Gently he lifted the blouse onto her shoulder and drew the front shut. He put his arms around her. She was panting for air, trembling.

“It’s all right,” he said. “It’s all right.”

Vaguely he wondered why he had gone to Shiner instead of Tanya.

It felt good, though.

“Poor Karen,” she whispered.

“Let’s worry about us,” Tanya said from somewhere behind Jeremy.

Shiner squeezed herself tightly against him.

Then they separated. Shiner took hold of his hand.

Cowboy and Liz were still embracing. He had lost his hat. He still had his knife, though. It was a folding buck knife with a wicked-looking blade. The blade was slick with blood. So was the hand that held it flat against the small of Liz’s back while his other hand stroked her hair.

A rear pocket of her jeans hung like a flap below her rump. She had lost one of her sneakers.

Except for his mussed hair, Samson looked as if he hadn’t been touched. But his arms were wrapped tightly around his chest, and Jeremy could see that he was shaking. If he still had his knife, it didn’t show.

Tanya’s knife was at her side, clenched in her right hand. The sleeve of her sweatshirt was drenched in blood to her elbow. The front of her sweatshirt, dark and sodden, clung to her breasts and belly. Her pants, too, looked drenched in blood from her waist to her knees.

A corner of her mouth turned up. “Don’t worry, Duke. It’s not mine. Just this,” she added, and touched a knuckle to a torn crescent of skin over her left cheekbone. That side of her face was sheathed with blood. Trickles spilled off her jaw and ran down her neck.

He went to her, pulling the wadded handkerchief out of his pocket. He took the razor blade from it, dropped the blade into his shirt pocket, and gave the handkerchief to her.

“Thanks,” she muttered, pressing it to her wound. “Guess what, Duke? Now you’ve got a good excuse for your face. You can tell your mom the trolls nailed you.”

“If I ever see her again,” he said.

“Don’t worry, you will.” Looking toward the others, Tanya said, “We’ll all get out of here. Right?”

Only Samson answered. He said, “Yeah, sure.”

“Let’s get to it.” Tanya waited while the others gathered in close to her. Shiner took Jeremy’s hand again. Her mouth twitched as she tried to smile. There was dread in her eyes.

Tanya took the lead.

This section of hallway had no barred openings in its walls. There was no sign of trolls.

Not until Jeremy’s shoes scraped a metal grating on the floor and he looked down and saw the blur of a face. He sprang off the grille. “They’re under us!” he blurted.

Samson, standing on a similar panel just ahead of him, leapt forward.

Jeremy looked back. Cowboy swooped Liz up. Cradling her in his arms, he stepped onto the grate. He danced on it, stomping it with his boots.

Jeremy and Shiner continued through the hallway. Beneath the next grille were two faces. The trolls watched in silence as they took long strides and cleared the grate without stepping on it.

Jeremy heard Cowboy, still back there, prancing on the first grate. “I’ll be durned if I’m not starting to—”

A deafening clap pounded Jeremy’s ears. Even as he whirled around, he knew he would see Cowboy dropping through the floor,

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