The Flesh of The Orchid by James Hadley Chase Page B

pine woods.
    “Now I wonder what he thinks he’s doing?” Max asked, and laughed. He raised his gun.
    Steve made a movement, but Frank’s gun rammed into his ribs, winding him.
    There was a sharp crack and a flash and Roy pitched forward on his face. He lay there for a moment, then began to crawl over the ground, his left leg limp.
    “I’ll fix him now for good,” Max said, and walked down the steps of the verandah, across the yard. He overtook Roy, kicked him savagely, walked on to where the Packard was parked.
    “You’re going to see something in a minute,” Frank said to Steve. “He’s got brains, that boy; and style—you’ve never seen such style.”
    Roy was still crawling desperately towards the lake. He left a thin trail of blood behind him on the sandy ground.
    Max reached the Packard, took from the boot a can of gasoline, walked after Roy.
    Roy heard him coming, cried out, tried to crawl faster, fell over on his side.
    “Don’t touch me,” he moaned as Max came up. “Leave me alone . . .  for God’s sake, leave me alone . . .!”
    “Little Bernie says he hopes you rot in hell,” Max said, poured the gasoline over Roy’s shuddering body.
    “No!” Roy screamed as the gasoline ran over his head. “You can’t do this to me! Steve! Help me! No. . . no. . . no . . .!”
    Max fumbled in his pocket, found a match, struck it alight on his shoe.
    “Here it comes, ol’ man,” he said, and laughed.
    “Ever seen a guy burn?” Frank asked Steve. “Even when they’re dead they jump and twitch . . . like a chicken with its head chopped off. We burned a guy a couple of weeks ago. He went up like a firework and the crazy lug ran right back into his own house and set that on fire too . . .  burned his wife and kids.” Frank shook his head. “Take a look at that,” he went on, suddenly excited. “That’s what I call a blaze. He’s cooking fine now, ain’t he? Now watch him run . . . they always run. There! Didn’t I tell you? . . . Watch him!”
    Steve shut his eyes, put his hands over his ears.
    *     *     *
    Something happened inside Carol’s head. It was as if her brain had turned completely over with a deafening snap! and at once the shadowy dream world in which she had been living suddenly came to life. Things which a moment before had blurred edges, dim colours and faint sounds became sharp-etched and vivid: like a film out of focus on the screen that has been suddenly adjusted. It was like bursting up into fresh air after diving too deeply in green silent water.
    Carol thought she must have been dreaming that she was out in the pine woods, but now she realized that she had walked there in her sleep; it seemed to her to be the only explanation. She was surprised she could accept the shock of awakening so calmly and looked around for a familiar landmark to lead her back to the cabin. She saw through the trees the lake glittering in the moonlight and she walked towards it.
    As she walked she tried to remember what she had been dreaming about before awakening. She had a vague recollection she had dreamed that Roy had come into her room, but it was nothing more than a vague recollection. She thought it was when Roy had come into her room that she had heard the snap inside her head. She wasn’t sure about this, but she knew some time recently a shutter or something like that had fallen inside her head. It had happened in the past, but she could not remember exactly when. When she thought about it she had a vague recollection of a room with blue-quilted walls and an electric lamp high up in the ceiling which was covered by a wire basket. It must have been something that had occurred in a dream, because the nurse was there: the nurse with the horrible look in her eyes, who said nothing, did nothing, but stared and pointed at her. Carol knew she had many such dreams, although she couldn’t remember them clearly. They were a jumble of dissociated figures and faces and rooms.
    She