Chapter 14 Chapter 7 The Picnic 3

11 Norman cranked the handle slowly on the main road leading from the playground to the picnic area.The women were still eating, but not for long—he saw that the first dessert had been delivered.If he wanted to strike while the crowd was still gathering, he had to be quick. He wasn't worried; the time for fear was over.He knew where to find a woman who was alone, a woman he was going to talk to and who was going to end up dead?His father once said to him: "Women can't leave the bathroom. They are like dogs. Every time they pass a redbud bush, they have to squat down to pee."

Norman rocked his wheelchair briskly past the "rest stop" sign. Just find someone, someone without a partner.This person can tell me where to find Rose.If she is in Los Angeles, I will go to Los Angeles; if she goes to Tokyo, I will go to Tokyo; if she goes to hell, I will follow.It's not a big deal, after all, everyone is going, and maybe they will be neighbors. He passed a clump of ornamented fir trees, let go of the handle and slid down a gentle slope to a windowless brick building with two entrances on either side: the men's bathroom on the right, the women's on the left.Norman rolled the car past the door of the women's bathroom and stopped far away.It's a great spot to park: a long strip of bare soil with a pile of canned trash behind a high private fence.He got out of the wheelchair, took a good look around the corner of the house, then slowly raised his head to observe the path.Everything is normal and very quiet.His head still hurt, but it had dulled to a jerk.

Two women come out of the bushes - not very nice.From his current monitoring position, the worst thing that could happen was the women coming and going in pairs.What are they trying to do?Soothe each other? Two women went in, and Norman could hear them talking and laughing through the nearest air vent about a man named Fred.Fred was clearly a boy.Whenever one of the parties talked too much and had to stop to catch their breath, the other would chime in with a chuckle that pierced Norman's ears as if he were rubbing his brain on broken glass .He was standing in a position where he could see the way to the bathroom, and he stood there rigidly, motionless, only his palms were still loosely closed unconsciously.

They came out at last, still talking about Fred, giggling and giggling as they walked.The two were very close, butt to butt, shoulder to shoulder.Norman fought back the urge to rush up and grab a bitch's head in one hand and slam them together so hard they'd explode like pumpkins stuffed with high explosives.Don't mess around, he whispered to himself.Large beads of sweat oozed from his freshly shaved head and ran down his cheeks.God forbid, it must not be out of control now.He was trembling all over, and had a severe headache, as if a hammer was hammering inside, zigzag lines flashed constantly at the edge of his vision, and his right nostril began to run out.

The next woman who came up was alone, and Norman recognized her—with white hair on top, varicose veins on her legs, and she had brought him a bottle of Lactobacillus soda. I've got a soda for you, he thought nervously as he watched her walk down the concrete, I've got a soda for you.If you can't answer my question, if you can't answer it right away, you'll have to swallow it. Another man came through the bushes, the man Norman had seen too—a nosy whore in a red coat.She had looked back at him when the man in the ticket booth called him back.For a moment he had a feeling of déjà vu again, as if a name was jumping on the tip of his tongue, but every time he was about to grab it, it slipped away.Does he know her?If he hadn't had a headache—

She still had the oversized, suitcase-like bag in her hand, and she fumbled for something in it.What are you looking for, fat woman?A few pills, or a bottle of wine?Maybe it's— Suddenly, he remembered.She was mentioned in a story about the Sisters House at the library, and a picture of her was published.In the photo, she's half-bent, in a self-defensive stance that looks more like a widened trailer.The bastard told the reporter, "Men are not their enemy...but if men do it, we fight back." Called Gert...he doesn't remember her last name, but her name was Gert. Get the hell out of here, Gert, Norman told the dark, stout woman in red.His hands were clenched into fists, his nails digging into his flesh.

But instead of rolling away, she yelled, "Lana! Hi Lana!" The white-haired woman turned and walked towards the fat woman who was as bulky as a clothes refrigerator.Norman watched as the white-haired woman named Lana led Gert back to the bushes.As he walked, Gert took out something and handed it to her, it seemed to be a piece of paper. Norman was drenched in sweat.He hoped Lana would come back to the bathroom after talking to Gert.Over there in the bushes, meal time is drawing to a close in the picnic area, and dessert has been served.The women flocked to the bathroom as soon as they finished their meal.If his luck doesn't change soon, he's really going to be in trouble.

Come on, hurry up, Norman muttered silently.As if answering him, someone came from the other side of the bushes.He recognized her, too, she was neither Gert nor Lana, she had been seen in the courtyard while spying on the sisters' home, she had dyed her hair to look like a rock star.And the brazen bitch waved at him. Don't scare me, is this a fair trade?Come on, come on, come to Papa. Norman felt his erection, and the headache went away.He stood there holding his breath like a statue, one eye scanning the corner of the building, praying that Gert would never come back at this time, that the girl with half-green and half-yellow hair would not change idea.No one came out from behind the bushes, and the girl with the coquettish hair was getting closer and closer to him.Come and visit me in my living room, said the spider to the fly.She was already at the door, about to reach the handle, but the door would never open because, just as Cynthia was about to touch the handle, Norman's large hand had grasped her slender body. waist.

Her eyes were wide open, looking at him in horror. "Come here," he dragged her away, "come here, let me talk to you, I want to talk to you very close." 12 Gert Kenshaw was so anxious to go to the bathroom that she almost ran, but it was strange that she suddenly saw the woman she had been looking for just now.She immediately opened the huge handbag to search. "Lana!" she yelled, "Hi, Lana!" Lana walked back to the path. "I'm looking for Cathy Sparks, have you seen her?" "Of course, she's throwing darts," Gert gave a thumbs up to the picnic area. "I just saw her two minutes ago."

"Great!" Lana immediately walked over there.Gert glanced hesitantly at the bathroom in front of him, guessing that her bladder could hold on for a while, turned around and walked back with her. "I thought she had a phobia and left. You know what it is." "Look, look." Gert handed the faxed photo to Lana before they walked into the woods.Lana studied it carefully.It was the first time she had seen Norman, since she was not a full member of the Sisters' House.She is a social psychologist, lives in Crescent Heights, has a cheerful husband, not a violent one, and three cheerful, non-dysfunctional children.

"Who is this?" Lana asked. Before Gert could speak, Cynthia Smith came over.As in the past, even on this occasion, Gert couldn't help grinning at her weird hair. "Hey Gert, your shirt is so cute!" Cynthia exclaimed smartly.This is not flattery, but, as they say, a little Cynthia style. "Thanks. I like your jacket too." Cynthia walked over as she spoke, and Lana looked at her amusedly, then looked back at the photo, absently stroking her long white hair tied into a ponytail. "Do you know him?" Gert asked. Lana shook her head, but Gert felt her expression was more suspicious than negative. Lana did an even better job.She covered the photo from the hairline up and studied it more closely.Her lips moved, as if reading with her mouth rather than her eyes.When she looked up at Gert again, there was both doubt and affirmation in her eyes. "I got a guy a lactic acid drink this morning," she began hesitantly. "He's wearing sunglasses, but—" "He's in a wheelchair," Gert said.Even though she knew it was just the beginning, she still felt relieved and lighter.Knowing is better than not knowing.It's best to be confident. "Yes. Is he dangerous? He is, isn't he? I've been with women who've had a lot of trouble over the years, and they're all vulnerable. Is there going to be trouble, Gert? I'm I asked you for them, not for myself." Gert thought twice before speaking: "I think everything will be fine, and the most terrifying moment is about to pass." 13 Norman ripped Cynthia's sleeveless blouse, pushed her cupped bra back, clamped her mouth firmly with one hand, and pushed her against the wall.He rubbed the same part of her with the heels of his thighs, and could feel her trying to lean back, but of course she had no way out, which made him even more excited.Yet his mind was floating three feet from his head, watching serenely as his body pressed forward, his teeth gripping Cynthia's shoulder.He bit like a vampire, opening his mouth to suck as the blood rushed out of his skin.The blood was hot and salty, and he barely realized that he was ejaculating in his pants, much less that Cynthia was screaming under his iron palm. 14 "Let's go back, don't worry about your patients, let me clear everything up." Gert said to Lana, "Do me a favor and don't mention this to anyone for a while. Your friend is not the only psycho today. Vulnerable people." "I know." Gert held her arm tightly: "I promise, it will be fine." "Well, you know what to do." "Yes, I do. It's not hard to find if he's still in the wheelchair. If you see him, just keep away from him. Understand? Get as far away from him as possible." Lana looked at her in frustration: "What are you going to do?" "Before you get suffocated, take a pee and report to security that a man in a wheelchair is trying to grab my handbag. Let's start with that, the first step is to get him out of our dinner party first." Luo West wasn't here, maybe she had an appointment, and Gert thanked God devoutly for that.Rosie was his detonator, and without her around, they had a chance to neutralize the danger before he could do any damage. "Do you want me to wait for you when you go to the bathroom?" Lana asked nervously. "I'm fine." Lana looked at the bushes in front of the path and frowned: "I think I'd better wait here." Gert smiled: "It's okay, it won't be long anyway." When she was about to walk, a voice pierced her eardrums: someone was panting hard—no, it was two people.A smile came to Gert's mouth.Who must be enjoying the afternoon sun behind the bathroom, a wonderful— "Say it, you son of a bitch!" The voice was as low as a dog growling, and Gert's smile froze. "Tell me quickly, where is she, tell me quickly!" 15 Gert sprinted across the corner of the room and was nearly knocked over by a wheelchair that had been thrown aside.The bald man in the jacket—Norman Daniels—was standing with his back to her, clutching Cynthia's slender arm, digging his thumb deep into her flesh.His face was squeezed against hers, but Gert could see the bridge of Cynthia's nose.The girl's nose has been broken. "Tell me where she is, or I'll bite your lip off and make your face—" Gert stopped thinking and listening, her whole body was already in motion.She stepped behind Norman in two steps, crossed her fingers, clenched her fists, and raised them high over her right shoulder.Gathering all her strength, she slashed down as fast as she could.But almost at the same moment, Cynthia's terrified eyes turned to her, and Rosie's husband saw the change.His reflexes were as fast as lightning.She slammed down with clasped hands and hit the target, however, instead of hitting the nape of the neck where she was aiming, she hit his face and cheekbones, and her opportunity to preemptively strike with lightning had been missed up.He turned to face her, and Gert's first thought was that he was eating strawberries.He smiled at her, blood still dripping from his bared teeth.The smile terrified Gert, and she realized all at once that all she had done was to change the number of women who were going to die here from one to two.The object wasn't a man at all, it was a vampire in a jacket. "Ha, it's Ugly Gert!" cried Norman. "You want to fight me, don't you? Want to practice with me? Make me lay down and beg for mercy, is that what you mean?" He laughed, One hand clapped his chest to show how ridiculous the idea seemed to him.The zipper on his jacket jingled. Gert glanced at Cynthia, who was looking down at her body, as if wondering where her clothes were. "Cynthia, run!" Cynthia glanced at her in confusion, took two hesitant steps, and collapsed against the wall, as if the mere thought of running away was enough to exhaust her.Gert could see the livid swelling on her face and forehead. "Gert-gert-burt," crooned Norman, approaching her, "banana-farner-fo-fort, fee-good-model-model ... Gert!" He read the rhyming words with relish like a child, and wiped a few drops of Cynthia's blood from his mouth. Gert saw beads of sweat on his bare head like glitter. "Oh, Gert, I'm going to knead you like dough, knead your guts out, I'm going to—" "Then why did you come here?" she yelled at him. "This isn't a high school prom, you shit! If you want me, just come and get me!" Norman stopped singing and stared at her dumbfounded, as if he couldn't believe that the big fat man was yelling at him and taunting him.Behind him, Cynthia took two or three crooked steps back, her clothes rustling against the brick wall, and finally she leaned against the wall and did not move. Gert's arms outstretched, palm to palm at twenty inches apart, his head slumped between his shoulders, hunched over, like a she-bear.Norman observed her self-defense movements, gradually changing from surprise to amused. "What are you doing, Gert?" he asked. "You think you're going to practice Bruce Lee on me? I have good news for you: he's dead, like fifteen seconds later." , you'll be lying on the ground too, following him—there's going to be a black fat whore's body on the ground.” He laughed. Gert suddenly thought of Lana Bryan, who might still be waiting for her. "Lana!" she almost yelled, "he's here! If you're still alive, get help!" Rosie's husband froze for a second, then relaxed again, smiling again.He tilted his head slightly, sure that Cynthia was still there, and turned his face back to Gert, his upper body rocking back and forth. "Where is my wife?" he asked. "Tell me, maybe I'll just break an arm and let you go. She stole my credit card and I just want it back." There is no rush, Gert thought.He must come to me—I have nothing else to do with him.But how to get him to come? She thought of Peter Slowik—almost forgot about him, and she thought she knew what to say amidst all the scars. "You put some whole new spin on the phrase 'eat me', right, you gay guy? Just blowjob with your mouth isn't enough, is it? What do you think? Let me hear yours Explain, do you dare to come here? Did the woman frighten you bastard?" This time the smile on his face didn't simply disappear, Gert heard it crumble like icicles under his boots when he said the word "gay."He doesn't sway anymore. "I'm going to kill you, you bitch!" Norman screamed and rushed over. Gert turned and stood sideways.Compared with the women's self-defense she taught the girls, her hands were lowered.She knows that Norman's frantic loss of control alone won't guarantee her victory - he's a strong, powerful guy, and she has to get him to attack her head-on, or she'll be disturbed like a rat in a machine It was pulpy.Norman rushed over, his lips parted and his teeth closed, as if he was about to bite.Gert crouched lower, patting the brick wall with his big fan-like hands, thinking, God, help me.She lunged forward and grabbed Norman's thick, hairy wrists. Don't mess things up and mess things up, she warned herself.She turned to him and slammed her heavy big ass into his side before shifting her weight to her left foot.Her legs spread apart and she flung herself out, the corduroy jumper snapping from her head to below her waist with the sound of pine knots popping in the fireplace. The whole movement seemed to be helped by some kind of magic.Her big ass became a ball machine, and Norman flew helplessly off it, the expression on his face changing from anger to shock.He hit headfirst into the wheelchair, which then flipped over on top of him. "Huh..." Cynthia let out a weak sound from the wall she was leaning against. Lana Klein's cautious brown eyes searched hard from outside the house. "What's going on? You're shouting—" She saw a man in a pool of blood struggling to get out of the wheelchair buckled on his body. Seeing his vicious gaze, she stopped shouting. "Go for help!" Gert snapped at her. "Security, go at once! Run and shout!" Norman pushed the wheelchair away, blood was dripping from his forehead, and blood was pouring from his nostrils. "I'm going to kill you," he murmured. Gert didn't want to give him a chance to try.When Lana turned and ran away screaming and screaming with all her strength, Gert jumped up and landed on top of Norman with a move that would make a professional wrestler envious.It was a lot of weight - a full 280 pounds, and Norman's plan to stand up obviously failed.His arm snapped like a praying man's arm blocking a car, and his already injured nose hit the mound between the brick wall and the fence.Eyes were smashed against the wheelchair's footrest with the force of the momentum.He tried to shout—but all he could get was a nasty wheeze. She sat on top of him with her torn skirt almost all the way up her ass.She sat on top of him thinking about what to do next.She thought of the time or two before when Rosie had worked up the courage to speak in the treatment room.The first thing she told them was that her back hurt so badly that sometimes even lying in a pool of hot water didn't relieve it.Gert was one of many women nodding knowingly and understandingly when she told them why.She lowered her body and pulled her torn skirt higher, revealing her pocket-sized blue cotton panties. "Rosie says you're a kidney man, Norman. She says it's because you're a shy guy and don't like to leave a beating mark. You enjoyed watching her while you beat her kidneys The way it was when it was beaten, wasn't it? It was so pale, with no color in its face, and blue lips. I know your kind, I used to have a boyfriend like that myself. You saw her With a pale face, I feel that I have got some kind of satisfaction in my heart, right? At least temporarily." "...Son of a bitch..." he whispered. "Yeah, you must be a kidney-loving man, I can tell from your face, I have this kind of ability." She twisted her knees to adjust the position of sitting on him, and her knees almost touched his shoulders superior. "Some men have thighs, some have butts, some have breasts, and some weird shit men like you have kidneys." "...let me go..." he whispered. "Rosie's not here, Norman," she continued, ignoring him, while twisting to sit a little higher, "but her kidney sent you a message through mine, you Better get ready, I'll give it to you now." She took one last step on her knee, aimed at his upturned face, and released the piss.Oh, this feels so refreshing. Norman didn't know what was going on at first, but he soon understood.He screamed and tried to push her away.Gert felt lifted a little and sat back down with a jerk on her hip.She was surprised that he could still make such an effort under such a heavy burden. "Don't, don't touch my cute ass," she said as she continued to empty her bladder.He didn't have to worry about drowning, but he'd never seen such a look of utter disgust and anger on anyone's face before.But why?Just for a little hot salt water?If anyone in the world wants to keep peeing, it's— Norman yelled inarticulately, and grabbed her forearm with both hands, digging his nails into the flesh.Gert screamed (not so much from pain as from surprise, though it did hurt) and moved back.Norman lost no time in seizing this moment, exerting more force than before, and suddenly rolled over, Gert fell from him, his feet in the air, and hit the brick wall.Norman stumbled, sweat mingled with blood dripping from his face, his bald head, and his jacket, the white T-shirt stuck to him underneath. "How dare you piss on me, you bitch," he said through gritted teeth, pounced. Cynthia stuck her foot out, and Norman tripped and slammed into the wheelchair again.He pushed the wheelchair aside on his hands and knees and turned to stand up.Panting and shaking, he almost stopped, but fell down again.His bright eyes stared at Gert, crazy eyes.Gert took a step forward, intending to jump on him again and break his spine before he could get up. Norman's jacket had a bewildering number of pockets, and suddenly he reached into one of them, and in a suffocating moment, Gert knew: he had a gun, and he was going to shoot her in the stomach several times. "But I finally died after peeing." She had a last thought. What Norman pulled out wasn't a pistol, but it wasn't much better than a pistol. He was holding a stun gun.Gert knew there was a crazy homeless woman in town who used this thing to kill those big rats in the gutter. "Want to try some?" Norman was still kneeling on the ground, shaking the stun gun back and forth in front of his eyes and asked, "Do you want to try this, Gert? You will taste it..." He stopped talking as if he sensed something, and looked suspiciously towards the corner of the room to see the women's cries of commotion and astonishment drifting from that direction.They are still far away, but they are approaching this way. Gert took advantage of his moment of distraction to take a half-step back, grab the handle of the wheelchair, and straighten it in one jerk.She stood behind the wheelchair, gripping the handlebars firmly with her big dark brown fists. "Hey, come on," she said, "Come on, kidney man. Come on, stinky shit. Come on, gay guy. Wanna get on me? Wanna take your taser on me, huh? Come on, then. I'm afraid you've only got time for one tango. The men in white suits will be here in a minute, and they'll find a suitable fit for your eccentric—" He stood up and glanced again in the direction of the noise.Gert thought, Bloody bastard.I only have one life, let me live.She slammed the wheelchair toward him with all her strength, hitting him in the middle of the body, and Norman yelled and fell back to the ground.Gert rushed over, and Cynthia's tearful and trembling voice came from his ear, but it was a second late: "Gert be careful! He's still holding a gun!" There was a thin, menacing crack, and Norman pulled the trigger on her ankle.Huge lightning-like pain immediately spread throughout the lower body.Her body was soaked in urine, which may also have enhanced the power of the stun gun.The muscles of her entire left thigh tensed suddenly, and then relaxed all at once, and she couldn't help but fell to the ground.But as she fell to the ground, she grabbed Norman's wrist holding the stun gun and twisted desperately.Norman screamed in pain, and his feet flew up, kicking her diaphragm just under the ribcage.The excruciating pain caused Gechi to forget about the leg injury for a moment, and by this time she had grabbed the stun gun and twisted his wrist until his fingers let go, letting the horrible gadget drop to the ground. He got up from behind her, blood was dripping from his nostrils and mouth, panting heavily, his eyes were wide open, everything in front of him was unbelievable, he couldn't accept and couldn't accept the fact that he was defeated by a woman.He struggled to stand upright, looked again in the direction of the shouting—it was very close now, and then, he turned around and fled towards the playground along the wide fence.Gert didn't think he could run far enough to attract the attention of security guards, and he looked like an extra from a movie set. "Gert..." Seeing that Norman had completely disappeared, Cynthia cried and tried to crawl to the place where Gert lay down.Gert then turned his head and noticed the girl again.She found that Cynthia was much more injured than she had thought. There was a large bruise covering her right eye, and her nose looked like it would never recover. Gert struggled to get up on his knees and moved in front of Cynthia.The two hugged tightly, putting their arms around each other's necks so they wouldn't fall over.Cynthia was panting, and it took a lot of effort to say: "I could have...fought him according to the method you taught...but he sneaked up on me. "It's okay," Gert kissed her forehead lightly, "how are you hurt?" "I don't know...you can't cough up the blood...the foot is right." She tried to smile, and she could see that it hurt her a lot. "You peed on him." "Yes, I did." "Fantastic!" Cynthia whispered, and she began to cry again.Gert held her in his arms as the first women arrived, followed by two dock security guards.What appeared in front of their eyes was: the abandoned wasteland behind the toilet, the overturned wheelchair, and two women kneeling on the ground and clinging to each other like sailors on a shipwrecked ship. 16 Rosie's first vague impression of the East Reception Hall of the hospital's emergency room was that it seemed like all the members of the Sisters' House had gathered here.As she walked across the room towards Gert (who could barely see her from the crowd of men surrounding her), she could see that at least three people were not there: Anna, probably still at her ex-husband's memorial service; Pol, at work and Cynthia's absence aroused her great horror. "Gert!" she yelled, pushing away the men around her, barely looking at them, "Gert. Where's Cynthia? She—" "Upstairs." Gert tried unsuccessfully to give Rosie a reassuring smile.Her eyes were red and swollen and full of tears. "They've taken her. She may have to stay here for a while, but she's all right, Rosie. He beat her hard, but she'll be all right." You know you're still wearing a helmet? It's kind of... funny." It was Bill's hand again that unfastened the strap under her chin, but she hardly realized that the helmet had been removed.She looked at Gert, Consuelo, Robin... She looked for condemning eyes, accusing her of being a carrier of the virus, who brought the plague to their formerly clean house.She was looking for the hateful stare. "I'm sorry," she sobbed hoarsely, "I'm sorry for what happened." "Why?" Robin asked, with genuine surprise in her voice, "You didn't hurt Cynthia." Rosie looked at her uncertainly, then turned her gaze back to Gert.She followed Gert's moving eyes and felt a sudden fright.She realized for the first time that there were not only the women of the House of Sisters in the room, but also the police, two in plain clothes and three in uniform.Policemen. She reached out a numb hand and grabbed Bill's fingers. "You should talk to this woman," Gert told a policeman. "Her husband is the man who did this. Rossi, this is Lieutenant Hale." They all turned to look at her, at the policeman's wife.She had the audacity to steal her husband's credit card and plan to slip out of his life! Norman's brethren looked at her. "Ma'am?" said the undercover named Hale.His voice sounded so Harry Bissington at that moment that she felt like she was going to cry. "Calm down, Rosie," Bill whispered, "I'm here, and I'll always be here." "Ma'am, can you tell us something about this?" He finally didn't sound like Harry.It was just her hallucination. Rosie looked out the window at the ramp at the entrance to the highway.She looked east—a direction where night would fall on the lake in a few hours.Biting her lip, she turned to the policeman, put her other hand on Bill's as well, and began to speak.Her throat was dry and the hoarse voice sounded like it wasn't her own. "His name is Norman Daniels," she told Lieutenant Hale. Your voice sounds a lot like the woman in the painting, Rose in the pink classic skirt.she thinks. "She's my husband. He's a detective, and he's a crazy guy."