Meanwhile, Rudy got up off the floor and shook his head again. The unexpected blow from the pistol forced him to grasp for consciousness. Just a few feet from the open door, he saw Hank across the lot bump into the car and then stagger to the trunk. A security light mounted on the roof of the motel shone into the parking lot. It flickered due to a short, and captured Hank’s movements in what looked like a scene from an ancient black and white movie.He knew what Hank had in mind for Natalie when he got her back to the room and it reminded him of when he had made love to her in the warehouse. He had sensed her respond to his body and believed he had aroused her. But since he hadn’t finished, he wanted her even more now. But not under these conditions. One thing he knew for certain, he could never again take her against her will. The next time they were together, if she would have him after this, it would be because she wanted him too.
In the next few moments, though, he would face the same train wreck he had been powerless to stop in the warehouse. Hank would bring her back to the room and assault her just like last night. Then what, would Tony kill her like he had promised?
A vision of her ending up like the man in the yellow coupe flashed through his mind. In that brief image, smoke curled toward the motel room’s ceiling but not from the cigarette at Tony’s lips. It rose from Tony’s gun as he sneered down at her lifeless body.
The gun began to slide on the lid as the trunk came open. Hank grabbed for the revolver with his right hand, retrieved it and let the hinge-springs raise the lid. The back of the car faced away from the security light and with no trunk light, even with the moon full, the trunk cover cast a shadow on the interior. Hank couldn’t see inside.
“Hey princess, you still alive in there?” he said, as he leaned into the cavity. “Damn, you smell like shit.”
The pungent odor of beer and corn chips introduced on Hank’s breath added a new foul scent to Natalie’s prison, but she ignored it. She kept her eyes closed and waited. She sensed him lean further into the trunk. Once a whisper of his exhalation brushed against her face, she opened her eyes. In her right hand she grasped the halogen light bulb she had removed from the light fixture. While she waited for this moment, she had broken the tip off.
Hank’s silhouette loomed over her as he reached into the trunk. She swung her right hand toward him and slammed into his right forearm. He jerked backward. She swung again. This time her hand flailed passed and just missed his face.
“You want to fight?” he shouted and lowered his torso over the trunk again.
His hand fell on her chest while he probed the darkness for her and Natalie swung her right hand a third time. This time she felt the jagged bulb penetrate into his right forearm. Before he could react, she grabbed his left arm and held him inside the trunk opening. Since Hank had pissed on her during the rape, her second volley would bring a small amount of justice. When she scoured the cavity for weapons, she had found the towel she had used to conceal her body during the screen test. Now, with her left hand she swung the towel which she had filled with urine and excrement, at his eyes. The bowel bomb found its target and she smeared it onto his face. She felt him lurch back and let his hand go.
“Aaaaahhhh, you damn asshole!” he screamed.
The pistol fell to the ground with a metallic click, and Hank’s figure disappeared from her view over the edge of the trunk.
Natalie forced herself to stand up. The blankets that had covered her fell off and she felt the chill of the late October air bite her shoulders and chest. She shivered and used the coolness to revitalize her mind and stimulate her resolve.
Hank, four feet away, tore at the rancid defecation on his face. “That burns like hell, bitch.” He struggled to clean his eyes with the towel.
The light pole in her hand, Natalie jumped out of the trunk. Flashes of pain tore through her stiff body but she gritted her teeth. She landed on the balls of her feet to keep her high heels from clicking against the pavement so he wouldn’t suspect her escape. She took a step toward Hank, leveled the pole, and swung it at his head. The force of the blow to his right jaw spun him around, and he crashed into the fence as he fell to the ground. She lifted the pole over her head. This one’s for hitting me in the face. She swung down and connected with his right shoulder.
She remembered a few moments ago the click of the gun strike the pavement. She stooped down to locate it. It wasn’t on the ground by the bumper, so she looked under the car. It’s outline shown in the security light. With the pole in her left hand, she dropped to her knees and grabbed the pistol.
By the time she retrieved the revolver and turned around, Hank had gotten to his feet. She turned just in time to avoid his boot as he kicked at her. His shin connected with the bumper.
“Ah, damn it,” he shrieked, grabbed his leg and hobbled back toward the fence.
Natalie dropped the pole and pointed the gun at him. “Back off.”
Meanwhile, Rudy’s uneasiness continued to grow. Hank had disappeared behind the lid of the trunk. Then, while he stared out the door, he heard Hank shout and, in the flicker of the parking lot light, saw his shadowy hulk fall backward. He couldn’t just do nothing—nothing had already cost him one chance to save Natalie. If Natalie was fighting back, no matter what consequences waited for him, he had to help her. He started toward the door.
Before he reached it, though, something stirred to his right.
“What the Hell?” Tony shouted and sat up. “Where’s Hank?”
Rudy didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. The dread of what the next moments held filled his veins with ice. It clamped his voice shut and nailed his feet to the floor.
Natalie, crouched behind the car, knew from her position it would be difficult for Hank to see her in the shadows. He seemed disoriented and continued to grumble about this shin. But with a sudden turn, he lunged for her.
Natalie pulled the trigger.
_____
©
Jearl Rugh 2012
All Rights Reserved
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