Night of the Tiger

Chapter Three

Aimee licked a dab of ketchup off her fingers and continued to chew. The funhouse might not have been very much fun but the hotdog was delicious. There was something about eating a hotdog outside, one that had been grilled, which made it extra tasty. She swallowed and washed it down with a sip of lemonade, which had just the right balance of tartness and sweetness. Perfect.

The mood of the crowd was exuberant and infectious. Everyone seemed to be having fun. The knots in Aimee’s shoulders began to relax as she stood in the shadow of a concession stand and observed all the people milling about.

A people-watcher by nature, she was more comfortable remaining in the background. She enjoyed studying faces and watching folks as they interacted with one another. The artist in her was always searching for interesting possibilities to be filed away for use in her work sometime in the future. Her gaze landed on a couple in front of a booth that held one of the target games.

A young man stood about thirty feet away from several small paper targets, holding the air rifle in his hands. Beside him, his date watched and waited. Anticipation filled the air as the young man fired once. The shot went awry. The dark-haired girl frowned but the young man hefted the air rifle and looked straight down the barrel. He raised the rifle again and fired twice more in rapid succession. This time he hit both targets. The girl squealed and the young man smiled. They left the stall with an adorable white teddy bear, the girl holding her prize tightly in her arms.

Aimee chuckled as the young man swooped down and stole a kiss from his date. The girl laughed and snuggled closer as the two of them walked toward the next game of chance. Aimee predicted another bear would soon join the first one.

The carnival would probably lose their shirt on that particular game. The sight on the air rifle might be off, but this was mountain country. There wasn’t a man or boy within one hundred miles who couldn’t adjust for that and hit the target. Heck, for that matter, most of the women and girls could too.

The roar of the generators was almost drowned out by the sound of pop music pumping out from the speakers situated strategically around the grounds. People had to shout at one another to be heard over the din. The rides continued almost nonstop, pausing only long enough to let off passengers and load up again.

Aimee finished the last bite of her hotdog as one particularly scary ride off to her left flew the dozens of screaming passengers high in the air before swooping them down low again. She had to look away. Just watching the ride was making her stomach queasy and her head spin.

Now that her hunger was sated, she stepped away from the shelter of the concession stand and began to walk around. She still hadn’t seen Sandra, which meant her friend was probably in one of the tents looking at the various sideshows. Several large tents were located near the far end of the fairgrounds. Set back from the rides and games, there was slightly less noise here. Although that didn’t make it quiet, just that the volume was lowered to a dull roar.

The large, hand-painted sign out front advertised a man who could eat fire and swallow swords. There was a knife-thrower, magic tricks, a contortionist and a fortuneteller as well. There was no lineup at the front of the tent, but a young woman with reddish hair and a voluptuous build sat on a stool ready to take Aimee’s tickets.

Aimee almost turned back. Something about the place seemed almost sinister. The shadows were deeper here. Darker. “Of course there are more shadows. They’re closer to the trees,” she muttered, totally disgusted with herself. Where was her backbone?

The young woman smiled. “Are you going in? I think you’ll enjoy the shows.”

“Have you seen a tall blonde woman? She’s wearing black jeans and a red leather jacket.” Sandra did love her jacket. It was very distinctive and memorable. If her friend hadn’t gone in here there was no reason she had to waste one of her tickets. She glanced at the sign above the door. Make that four of her tickets.

The woman’s smile widened and her eyes glinted with envy. “She went in a few minutes ago. That is one awesome jacket.”

Aimee felt her excuse to not enter the tent slipping away. She had to go now or she’d feel like a coward. Plus, she needed to find Sandra. This place was starting to creep her out, and she wanted to leave. If her friend wasn’t ready to go yet, Aimee could at least get Sandra’s keys and wait in the car.

She dug into her purse, produced the necessary tickets and handed them over to the attendant. The tent flap was lifted back and Aimee stepped forward. The canvas was quickly lowered again, leaving her feeling trapped inside.

“Not trapped,” she assured herself. “This isn’t like the funhouse. You can get out easily.” She turned around and glanced at the opening behind her to reassure herself.

Still, she couldn’t go another step until she tried. Wrapping her hand around the canvas, she pulled it back. The young woman outside gave her a quizzical smile. “Everything okay?”

Feeling silly, Aimee nodded. “Fine. I thought I dropped something when I got out my tickets.” It was a lame excuse, but it was all she could think of at the moment. “I must have been mistaken.” She gave the girl a smile, which felt forced and phony, and dropped the flap back down.

Now that she’d established she could leave any time she wanted to, Aimee began to explore. The tent was divided into smaller areas by canvas walls. She stepped up to the first opening and relaxed when she realized there were several other people already watching the performance. A burly man with graying hair and a handlebar mustache lowered a flaming stick toward his mouth. He shoved the stick inside and then quickly removed the flame. Everyone in the small group clapped.

She couldn’t wait to see what he did with the swords of varying lengths propped up behind him. Sure enough, a long, sharp blade came next. The performer opened his mouth, tipped back his head and slid the sword down his throat. It disappeared until only the hilt remained. The audience gasped. The man withdrew the sword and took a small bow.

Aimee watched for a few more minutes before moving on. In the next performance area, a woman lifted her leg straight into the air before tucking it behind her head. She lowered it back to the ground and then did the same with her other leg. Aimee winced as she watched the woman twist herself into positions she hadn’t thought were humanly possible. The performer began to use several hoops in her act. At one point, she swung hoops with both feet as she used just one hand to support her weight. Aimee watched, amazed by the versatility and flexibility of the human body, until the woman finished with her routine.

Further on, the knife-thrower was well into his performance. He tossed knives at his assistant, a pretty young woman, as casually as one would toss a stone into a lake. Aimee didn’t know if the woman was brave or stupid, but she didn’t flinch as the sharp blades were flung her way. Aimee didn’t linger here long, unable to watch. She didn’t have quite as much faith in the knife-thrower as his assistant did.

Across the aisle, a man of indeterminate age was performing magic tricks for a small crowd. He produced flowers from thin air and made a coin disappear. The performance was good, but magic tricks didn’t really interest Aimee. She scanned the audience and sighed. Still no sign of Sandra.

Retreating deeper into the tent, Aimee noticed a sandwich-board sign, which announced the fortuneteller’s area was next. The entrance was closed and she could hear the low murmur of voices coming from the other side of the canvas. Aimee assumed that must mean someone was in there having their fortune told.

Now that would appeal to Sandra. She was into all kinds of metaphysical stuff, constantly asking Aimee about her nightmares and offering suggestions as to what they all might mean. She’d never told her friend about her dreams of the white tiger, and she certainly wasn’t about to tell her about her sensual dream from last night. That was too personal to share even with her closest friend.

Aimee decided to hang around outside for a few minutes just in case Sandra was inside. If she wasn’t, Aimee was going to give the fairgrounds one more turn before heading back to the car to wait. She could always sit on the hood even if she couldn’t get inside the vehicle.

She glanced at her watch. It was just past nine. It was hard to believe that almost two hours had passed since they’d arrived. Aimee didn’t quite know where the time had gone. She must have watched some of the performers for longer than she’d thought. It was easy to get caught up in their acts. They were really quite incredible, and she’d enjoyed them more than she’d thought she would.

But no matter how enthralling the acts were, or how glitzy they seemed, the performers were just people who would be tired and cranky tomorrow morning just like everyone else. Beneath the glare of the lights and the pounding rhythm of the music lay a lonely existence. It couldn’t be easy to always be on the road, performing night after night in small towns across the country, and maybe even around the world. What was exciting and exotic tonight would reveal itself to be worn-out and tawdry in the morning’s light. It was the shadows that helped with the illusion.

The tent seemed to be much gloomier at this end, but there were several more openings. Intrigued, Aimee started toward them. She’d have a quick peek but keep an eye on the fortuneteller’s door. It wouldn’t do for her to miss Sandra after she’d searched for so long.

A dim light shone from an opening on the left. Aimee walked over and waited for her eyes to adjust. At first she couldn’t see anything. A movement off to her right caught her eye, and she turned her head.

A feeling of foreboding pressed down on her, weakening her knees. She grabbed a tent post, grateful for its strength and support. Suddenly she didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to see what was lurking just beyond. The shadows seemed menacing. But it was as if she had no control over her movements. Her head continued to turn until she was looking in the far corner.

Situated beneath a red spotlight was a large platform that seemed to have some kind of large padding or mattress on it. Several people were lying on it. All of them were naked.

Aimee swallowed hard. Sweat dotted her brow as she tried to back away but, as they had in her nightmares, her feet wouldn’t obey her command. Her fingers tightened around the tent post, her nails digging into the wood.

There was such a tangle of limbs that at first she couldn’t tell exactly how many people there were on the large platform bed, but there seemed to be several men and at least one woman. Of that she was certain.

The longer she looked, the more the erotic tableau came into focus. One man gripped a handful of the woman’s blonde hair, dragging her head back and holding her captive as he kissed her. The woman’s moan of pleasure seemed to echo off the thick canvas walls. Another man feasted on the woman’s ample breasts, licking and sucking at them until her nipples were red and her skin damp.

Aimee’s breathing was getting shallower with each passing moment. Sexual energy pulsed around her like a living, breathing thing. Her breasts began to tingle and her panties grew damp. She was getting aroused watching them.

She tried to look away, hating the fact that she was a voyeur to such a personal act. The fact that it was turning her on bothered her deeply. But she couldn’t turn away from the sight unfolding in front of her. It was as if her will was no longer her own.

A third man shoved the woman’s legs apart and buried his face against her core, sucking and licking. The woman shoved her hips toward him and he laughed, pulling away and sitting back on his heels. He grabbed the woman’s hips and dragged her down onto his enormous erection. The woman screamed and then moaned as the man pounded into her.

Aimee wanted to leave. Tried to leave. But she couldn’t seem to make her muscles work. She tried to shift her leg even one inch. Nothing. They wouldn’t respond no matter how hard she tried. She closed her eyes, but it did no good. In her mind’s eye, she could still see the group on the bed.

A satisfied male groan filled the air.

Aimee’s eyes flew open. The group had shifted position while she hadn’t been watching. The woman was now on her hands and knees, breasts jiggling and hips pumping as two men fucked her. One of the men was beneath her, his erection sliding in and out of her sex at a rapid rate. The second man was on his hands and knees behind her. Grasping her hips in his large hands, he grunted hard as he drove his cock into her ass. The third man was kneeling just to the side and had dragged the woman’s head lower so she could suck on his shaft while the other two men fucked her.

A low, throaty laugh emanated from the group. Horror filled Aimee. She knew that laugh. As if the woman could read her thoughts, she let the man’s erection slip from between her lips. She turned her head and her face came into view for the first time. Rich, red lips curved up into a smile. “Why don’t you join us?”

Aimee gasped and stumbled back. It couldn’t be. Not Sandra. Shaking her head, she backed away, tripping over a peg holding one of the ropes in place. Whatever force had been holding her here had been broken. They knew she was here. Had known all along.

She tried to catch herself, to gain her balance, but it was too late. She fell, coming down hard on her behind. By the time she scrambled to her feet, the tent was dark. There was no sign of Sandra or the men who’d been pleasuring her. The platform bed had disappeared.

Her breath was coming in short, hard pants. She felt dizzy, was afraid she might pass out. She forced herself to breathe more slowly, to think. “I must be losing my mind.”

There was no way she could have imagined that. Was there? Had she fallen into some kind of waking dream? Feeling light-headed, Aimee started toward the entrance. She had to leave. Had to get out of this place.

Whatever was going on here, it wasn’t right. Aimee had a sense that something wrong permeated the carnival, like some malevolent specter lurking just beneath the glossy facade. The place had given her the creeps from the moment she’d set foot on the grounds, but she’d ignored those feelings to please her friend.

Or maybe she was the problem. Maybe she was slipping over the edge of sanity and into the realm of her nightmares when she was awake. She shuddered at the thought and glanced at her surroundings to get her bearings.

Aimee came to an abrupt halt, totally disoriented. There was no center aisle behind her. She was alone, all the other people and performers had disappeared. The fortuneteller’s area was nowhere to be found.

Aimee peered around what appeared to be some other smaller performance area. “That’s impossible,” she whispered, trying desperately to remain calm. Where was everyone? Her heart pounded as she took a step forward. There had to be an entrance somewhere near.

Eyes suddenly glowed in the darkness—large, red eyes, just like the ones from her nightmares. She wasn’t exactly in an underground cave, but the feeling was similar. It felt as though the walls were beginning to close in around her.

Aimee blinked several times to clear her vision. There had to be a logical explanation for everything. There weren’t any eyes watching her. It was probably just security lights. The sideshow had simply closed while she’d fallen into some kind of waking dream or hallucination or whatever it was, and lost track of time.

She glanced at her watch and gasped. It was almost midnight. Somehow she’d lost over two and a half hours. The carnival was certainly closed, and Sandra would have gotten tired of waiting and surely left by now.

Aimee swallowed and checked her watch again, squinting in the dim light to see the dial. How had this happened? There was no easy answer. She’d have to think about everything that had occurred tonight, but not until she was safe at home.

The main problem to deal with now was to find a way out of this canvas maze and start the long trek home. She didn’t fancy walking down the lonely, deserted roads at night, but it wasn’t as if she had any other choice. Sandra had probably assumed she’d found a way home earlier in the evening with a neighbor. Her friend was going to be pissed with her, thinking she’d been abandoned.

That was almost funny considering how long she’d been searching for Sandra, but Aimee wasn’t laughing. Her left leg ached, and she was more than a little scared. This entire evening had been like something from a horror movie. “Fodder for your work,” she muttered to herself. “Now find a way out.”

The sound of footsteps echoed off to her right. Swallowing hard, she took a step back. “Who’s there? This isn’t funny.”

As if to mock her, laughter rang around her, bombarding her from all sides. It grew louder and louder. She slapped her hands over her ears and stumbled off to her left. She had to find a way out. A bright light flickered up ahead and she lurched toward it. Maybe it was the exit.

At the last second, she drew up short, not willing to just rush in. She didn’t trust this place or the people who ran it.

Reaching out, she cautiously drew back the canvas flap, giving a nervous glance over her shoulder. No one appeared to be following her. The footsteps and the laughter had faded as quickly as they’d begun. She took a breath and stepped inside.