The Killing Vision - By Will Overby Page 0,18

He wanted both of them, and they wanted him. The three of them were pressed together, moving together with the music, their arms wrapped around each other, and he was kissing them both. He was hard as a stone.

How or when they left the Capitol he could not recall. The next thing he remembered was rolling around in a bed between the two of them. They were all three kissing, licking, moving, flowing. He tasted one, then the other, and he didn’t know which. The three of them were one huge writhing, sweating, slippery, fucking mass. He was deep inside Shelley, thrusting powerfully, then he withdrew and plunged into Abby. Something, either a dildo or a vibrator, slipped inside him and began moving in and out. Really pushing the old envelope now, he thought. And suddenly he was coming, an orgasm that erupted from his very soul. White sparks of light flashed before him, and then he drifted away to a plane where the pleasure was so painfully intense that his mind could not fathom it. His whole being, even his skin was caught up in it; each hair on his body seemed to be firing off its own explosive synapse.

And then in the next instant he was in the truck, heading out of town in the pre-dawn darkness. He was completely naked, and the gas pedal was strange and foreign beneath his bare foot. His heart was pounding—no, hammering—in his chest. Sweat was pouring down his face, his back, his stomach. How did he get here? Where were his clothes? The clock on the bank sign said it was a little after four; where in the hell had he been the past few hours? Had he and the girls fallen asleep? Why couldn’t he remember?

He realized he was almost home. He managed to pull into the driveway and stop the truck. He killed the ignition and sat there in the dark for a moment. His heart felt like it would burst out of him any second. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down, but it seemed futile.

Then he remembered those little green tablets. The ones with the dolphins on them. What the hell had they been? It was both wonderful and terrifying at the same time. If Shelley had told him what they were, he couldn’t remember. He just knew they had knocked him flat on his ass and he had lost complete control of everything, including his memory.

He took a few more deep breaths, then crawled out of the truck. The house was dark, and he wondered briefly if he should wake Marla to take him to the emergency room.

He let himself in the back door and felt his way through the pitch black to the bedroom. Marla was sleeping, her breathing heavy and steady. Suddenly, he was afraid. What if he died right here on the floor next to the bed?

It’s just that his heart was racing. On and on. Why wouldn’t it stop? What was in those pills? Were they some kind of uppers? Maybe he needed a sedative, something to counteract it.

He pulled on a pair of shorts from the bureau and quietly made his way back outside to the barn. He switched on the lights, and the sudden brightness stabbed painfully into his head, blinding him momentarily. As his eyes adjusted, he squinted at the tarp-covered Mustang, remembering he had promised Derek they would work on it this weekend. Fuck that, he thought.

Behind his workbench in a little niche of the barn wall was an old cigar box. Inside the box was a small plastic bag of pot, some cigarette papers, a roach clip, and a lighter. His hands were shaking so badly he could hardly roll a joint. He didn’t know if this was safe to do on top of those pills or not, but he had to bring himself down, and he had to do it fast.

He turned the lights out and melted back into an old wooden desk chair in the dark, sucking down the sweet smoke and holding it in. Even the pot seemed intensified. What the hell had those pills been?

Gradually, his pounding heart began to slow and he began to cool off. The rivers of sweat dried up, and his mind no longer felt disjointed.

He realized he was exhausted, completely and utterly drained. He went back to the house and crawled between the sheets next to Marla. He was asleep in seconds.

When he awoke,