Secrets of Goth Mountain Page 8

CHAPTER 5

  SKUNK PROBLEMS

  "I know it's very late, but could you please come by the library tonight, Elizabeth?" asked Janet Gibs the librarian, her shaky words barely recognizable over the old Goth phone. Elizabeth's friend sounded very strange to her. "I'm in trouble; I really need to see you," the librarian blurted out.

  Elizabeth had just dozed off while lying on her Goth-cabin bed, so exhausted from the day's odd activities that being in a strange place for the night hadn't been a problem. The old phone ringing had been quite a surprise; she couldn't imagine who might be calling her. It was a friend from town who told her that she was in trouble. "Janet? How did you get this number? I don't even know what it is."

  "The fact that you are staying at the Goth place is all over town."

  "You're kidding! After only a few hours? But you sound upset. What is this problem of yours? It’s after dark; can't we simply talk about it now, over the phone?"

  "No. Please come here Elizabeth? Tonight? Now?"

  Elizabeth yawned, her mind still realigning itself to being awake. She had slept for such a short time that now she felt more tired than ever, but she figured that she would be alert enough after some coffee. She could sleep in half the day tomorrow hopefully, if she took care of some things tonight. "Alright, sure, I can see you and also pick up some things at my apartment while I'm in town."

  "Come here to the library first though, OK?"

  "I'll be there within an hour. Why meet at the library? Isn't it closed for the night at this hour? Why not meet at your place or mine?"

  "No, here at the library; it has to be here. Please?"

  "Alright, sure, I'll see you there soon then. Bye." Elizabeth didn't like it; her friend sounded terrified. Janet led a pretty sedate life; she didn't even have a boyfriend at the moment. Elizabeth couldn't imagine what her trouble could possibly be or why she had to talk to her in person and immediately. Of course, Elizabeth did need to visit her real apartment in town very soon anyway. She had planned on making the trip first thing in the morning, but tonight would be better for Fluffy. Her poor cat already had plenty of food and water, but would wonder what had happened to her. She usually wasn't away this long. When she visited Aunt Heady, she always took Fluffy with her.

  It was only as she was walking out the door and into the moonlight that she realized that the Tribe might not want her vacating the cabin, even for only a short time. Still, she had agreed to room at the Goth place, not to be a prisoner there. She would see Janet, pick up Fluffy and a few other necessities, and be back in about three hours, tops.

  Quietly she got into the Chief's old truck and drove down the long driveway. The old truck had more pep then her Geo, once it was in gear, and she felt proud that she remembered how to drive a stick-shift. Aunt Heady would only own stick shifts, so Elizabeth had learned to drive in an old truck very similar to this one.

  In her rear-view mirror she saw movement in the shadows and heard what sounded like several owls hooting. At the end of the driveway she quickly climbed out of the truck, pushed the gate open and drove through it and down the road, without bothering to re-close the gate. She wanted to get her errand over with without having to explain it to anyone. As she rounded the first bend in the road a rifle-armed Indian ran out into the moonlight behind her, waving at her and calling her name. She kept driving.

  Lathem was comfortably quiet and dark when drove into town. The old town library was mostly dark, and was located at the end of a dark, deserted street. When Elizabeth turned off the truck in the library parking lot, only moonlight and absolute silence greeted her. There was no one at all in sight, but she felt vulnerable when she climbed out of the truck.

  Most lights were off and a ‘closed’ sign was displayed, but the front door to the library was unlocked, so Janet had to still be inside. Cautiously Elizabeth opened the door and stood quietly for several tense moments, looking and listening. Light from somewhere deep in the library provided scant illumination of looming, shadowy shelves of books; most of the library was pitch dark. She didn't sense any movement at all, among the shadows, and she heard absolutely nothing. Was Janet even here, she wondered?

  She somehow sensed that she wasn't alone. Almost any danger could be hidden in the darkness of the stacks, she realized. Lions, tigers, and bears? Oh my! "Janet?" she called out finally, not very loud, but loud enough for her voice to echo through the dark stillness.

  "Here, Elizabeth," came the reply at once, Janet's voice, from the direction of her office at the other side of the big, book-filled room. Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief as all her silly irrational fears dissipated. Janet's office was where the limited light was coming from, she realized. She would have of course turned off the other lights when she closed the library hours earlier, to deter potential customers.

  Elizabeth walked towards the voice and light, dodging bookshelves and tables half hidden in shadow. She was relieved to see her friend quietly sitting in the doorway of her office, facing out towards her. Her features were shadowed by the office lights behind her, so it wasn't until Elizabeth got closer that she saw that her friend's hair was mussed up. "Janet! What happened?"

  "I'm sorry Elizabeth," said Janet. "I'm so afraid." She burst into tears.

  At that moment lights came on, and Elizabeth was stunned to see that Janet was tied by ropes to her chair.

  "Surprise," said a loud, mocking male voice directly behind her, as several other men laughed and hooted.

  Terrified, Elizabeth spun around and saw him, or rather It, emerging from the stacks to stand a few short paces from her. 'It' was a six-foot-four, two hundred and eighty pound motor-cycle gorilla in tight black leather pants and matching vest, gold nose and ear rings, with knife scared face and hands. His age could have been anything from upper twenties to low forties; it was impossible to tell, but numerous scars suggested that this was a seasoned veteran of many a serious scrap. A wide white stripe down the middle of his long, otherwise black, pointed beard might have suggested a skunk's tail; his head was shaved bald and tattooed with swastikas and cuss words. The unbuttoned vest opened to a vast hairy chest framed by dark-tanned arms that rippled with muscle.

  His eyes were wide and wild; Elizabeth’s immediate thought was that he was on drugs. He was staring belligerently at her, with an ugly, mocking smirk on his face that suggested that while he hated everything around him he reveled in his ability to rip it all to shreds by his very presence, or by physical deed if he felt like it.

  She might have seen him around town before, one of several guys hanging out around the seedier bars, she didn't know. As a general rule she tried very hard to not notice people like this one, hoping that they would do the same with her; a strategy admittedly used with only moderate success by zebras with lion neighbors. Where the hell are the big game hunters when you need one, she wondered?