“You idiot, she’s lying!” Mike snarled. “And even if she isn’t, prison isn’t so bad. You get three square meals a day and you can pump iron out in the yard.”
“I still don’t wanna go!” his younger brother protested.
“Fine—then I’ll fuck ‘em both myself!” Mike declared. He grinned at Christine—that crazy meth-head grin that showed his brown and broken teeth. “I don’t care about goin’ back to prison—it’s worth it to get revenge on you two cunts.”
Christine could tell that he meant it—he really would be happy to go back to prison as long as he could do whatever he wanted to her and Jenny first. Her stomach clenched like a fist—oh God, she was in so much trouble right now! Part of her thought she ought to have waited for the Sheriff—but if she had, Jenny would be in this situation alone. At least maybe Christine could keep the Fensters too busy to hurt the girl until the police arrived.
But how to keep them busy? Mike Fenster was crazy enough not to give a damn what happened to him as long as he could do what he wanted to her and Jenny. But Dweebo wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box—she sensed that the youngest Fenster brother was the weakest link in this situation.
“It doesn’t matter even if you don’t touch either me or Jenny,” she said, focusing on Dweebo. “The police are still going to charge you as an accessory if you stand by and let your brother hurt us. You have to stop him or you’re going to jail with him. And Jenny is a minor—a little girl. You know what they do to child molesters in prison, Dweebo? You won’t last a day, no matter how many muscles you have. They’ll all gang up on you and do to you exactly what your brother wants to do her. Is that what you want?”
This idea seemed to take a minute to make its way through the youngest Fenster’s muscle-bound head, but when it did, a look of dismay dawned on his lumpish features.
“Is that true, Mike? I don’t wanna go to prison! Don’t wanna be ganged up on like that!”
“Shut up, you idiot!”” Mike Fenster shouted. “I told you, she’s lying!”
“I’m telling the truth and you better listen to me!” Christine shot back, focusing on the youngest Fenster exclusively now. “Don’t listen to your big brother—he’s the one who landed you in jail before. Didn’t he make you say that you were the one driving when you guys had that wreck? But I bet he was driving, wasn’t he?”
Dweebo nodded slowly.
“Yeah…he was.” He frowned at his older brother. “Say, Mike—this lady’s right. You made me go to jail that time! I don’t wanna go again.”
“You idiot, stop listening to her!” Mike snarled. He pointed a finger at Christine. “I’m warning you to shut your fat mouth right now, bitch!”
“Why? Because you don’t want me telling your little brother the truth? That you’re about to get him thrown into prison for the rest of his life?”
“Don’t wanna go to prison for life!” Dweebo exclaimed.
“Then you’d better stop your brother from hurting us,” Christine told him. “Because if you don’t, the cops are going to blame you too. You’ll do just as much time as he does!”
“That’s all lies—she’s lying!” Mike Fenster raged. He slapped Christine across the face, making her ears ring again. “Shut the fuck up, bitch and stop confusing my little brother!”
“I’m only telling him the truth!” Christine snapped back through swollen lips. The coppery taste of her own blood was filling her mouth and she spat on the carpet—it wasn’t like she could make it any dirtier or more disgusting. She knew she was playing a dangerous game but if she could turn the Fensters against one another, maybe—
Suddenly the front door to the trailer burst open and Clancy, the middle Fenster brother, rushed in. He was wearing a plaid shirt and had a ski mask pushed up to his forehead.
“Mike, Mike, they’re coming!” he shouted, waving his arms. “They’re comingThey’recomingThey’recoming!”
“What? What are you talking about? Who’s coming? Slow down!” Mike demanded.
“The cops! The cops! They’re coming! They’re right behind me!” Clancy was practically jumping up and down in agitation.
“What? Clancy, you dipshit, you were supposed to keep them busy in town—not bring them up here!” Mike Fenster walked over and slapped his younger brother upside the head.
“Ow! OwOwOw!” Clancy howled clutching at his head. “I tried Mike, honest I did! But the cashier lady at the drugstore knew it was me! I wore my mask like you said, but she knew me somehow!”
It was probably because Chapman’s drugstore was the only other place in town to buy anything resembling groceries, Christine thought. And since the Fensters had been barred from the Food Lion, they were probably buying everything at the drugstore now. Also, Clancy Fenster had a very distinctive way of speaking—that gabbled speed-speech of his would be recognizable, ski mask or no ski mask.