A Midsummer Night's Scream (13 page)

Aidan squinted at him. “Dial tone?”

Les groaned. “Old-fashioned phones have a dial tone. You know. A buzzing sound.” He pointed at Aidan. “You and Jeremy have an argument. You want to try the upstairs windows. But he says he is starving. He wants to make a sandwich.”

“I’m kind of hungry, too,” Annalee said. “I only had coffee this morning.” She was being cute for Jeremy.

“Please don’t interrupt,” Les said sharply. “Jeremy starts to search the kitchen for food. You look in the fridge. You pull out drawers and open cabinets. You get more and more frantic, see.”

Jeremy snapped his fingers. “Got it, boss.”

Les uttered an annoyed sigh, but he continued. “You pull out a loaf of bread. You rip out a few slices. You move to the toaster. Drop the bread into the toaster. Push the lever down. And then you get the shock of your life.”

Jeremy nodded. “I have to fake it, right?”

“You have to
act,
” Les corrected him. “We don’t have any special effects rigged up today. The electrical current will be added in post. So you have to imagine that your body is receiving jolt after jolt of electricity—and you have to make us see it. See it and
feel
it. We want the audience to feel every snap, crackle, and pop.”

Jeremy nodded. “I can handle it.” He did a crazy dance, bending his knees and flailing his arms above his head, jerking his head forward and back. “Like that, right?”

“Not bad,” Les said. “Remember—jolt after jolt. We need to see the rhythm of it. Open your eyes wide. Let your mouth hang slack. Maybe your tongue flops out.”

Les turned to the rest of us. “You all scream your guts out. You’re so shocked and frightened, you don’t do anything to help him. You just stand there and scream.”

He swung back to Becka, who stood beside Lazslo in front of the camera. “Did I cover everything?”

She nodded. “I think we’re good to go.”

“Let’s try a run-through,” Les said. He stepped away from the door. “Go out and come running in. Breathless. Scared. I want to see it instantly on your faces. Come on. Let’s go. Make me proud.”

He always said that at every rehearsal. I guess it was supposed to inspire us. You know. Get the adrenaline flowing.

The four of us moved out of the kitchen and waited in the doorway for the PA to slate the scene. “Scene twelve, take one.”

Les gave the signal. Then we came running back in, stumbling, pushing one another, our eyes wide, chests heaving up and down, panting and terrified.

The scene was going well until I ruined it.

Aidan and Jeremy argued. Aidan tried to pull Jeremy from the kitchen so we could investigate the upstairs windows. Jeremy tugged free of his grasp and started searching frantically for food.

My eyes went to the toaster. I shouldn’t have been looking there, but I couldn’t stop myself.

A feeling of cold dread washed over me.

I pictured the boy in the original film, holding the toaster, jerking and dancing inside the crackling current. And then I pictured Lana. Her small white hand sitting by itself on the table.

I stared at the gleaming silver toaster. And I knew what was going to happen to Jeremy. It wasn’t just a hunch. It was a powerful flash from the future.

I knew what would happen to him as soon as he pushed the lever.

My breath caught in my throat. My whole body shuddered.

I raised my eyes in time to see Jeremy pull the loaf of bread from the bottom kitchen drawer. He raised it high and pushed it in Aidan’s face. “See? Food,” he said. “I’m going to make a sandwich. Then we can escape this old house.”

He tore two slices of bread from the loaf and tossed the loaf to the counter. Then he turned to the toaster—

—and I leaped forward. I threw myself at the counter, and I shrieked: “No! Don’t TOUCH it! Jeremy—don’t TOUCH the toaster!”

24

A BAD BURN

“CUT! CUT!” LES SCREAMED.

Then everyone started shouting at once. Les stomped angrily into the kitchen. Becka Tisdale followed him, to help him out, I guess. It took a while to get everyone quiet.

“Claire, what is your problem?” He kind of spit the words at me through gritted teeth, growling like a bear.

“The … toaster,” I stammered, pointing.

“What about it?”

“I just had a feeling. Like in the old film. I mean…” I could barely choke out the words. My pulse was pounding in my ears.

Les angrily grabbed up the toaster in both hands.

“NO!” I screamed.

Les raised the toaster in front of him, showing it off to everyone. “It’s not plugged in,” he said. “See? No way it can shock Jeremy. Look, Claire. We even cut off the cord.” He spun the toaster around. “No cord. No electricity. Okay?”

I lowered my eyes. My hair fell over my face.

Please, kill me now.

“Sorry,” I managed to choke out. “I’m really sorry, everyone. I’m … totally embarrassed.”

Les shook his head. “Let’s take a ten-minute break, people, to regroup. Everyone come back refreshed, okay? We’re going to film this scene today. Ten minutes. See you back here.”

Delia walked over and put her arm around my shoulder. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “It was only a run-through. What’s the big deal?”

Jeremy Dane grinned at me. “Thanks for trying to save my life, Claire,” he said. “I didn’t know you cared.”

“S-sorry,” I stammered. I kept my eyes down. I really did feel like a fool.
The toaster wasn’t even plugged in.

“You want to come to my dressing room?” Jeremy said. “We could discuss the scene.”

“No thanks,” I murmured.

Jeremy nodded and walked away.

I saw Jake standing behind the kitchen counter. I hurried over to him. “Did you see the whole thing? I just changed my image from jerk to total jerk.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” he said. “You didn’t ruin a take or anything.”

Delia straightened my hair behind my head. “You weren’t a total jerk. No way. You had good reason to be afraid. We all saw what happened to Lana.”

I picked up the toaster and rolled it around between my hands. The toaster couldn’t shock anyone.

Annalee was over by the camera, flirting with one of the crew guys. She saw Jake and flashed him a smile. Les Bachman and Becka were having a discussion, both talking at once.

I set down the toaster. Then I led Jake and Delia to the catering table in the front room, and we grabbed Cokes. “Do you like that guy Jeremy Dane?” Jake asked.

“No way,” Delia and I both answered at once.

“He likes himself a lot,” Delia said. “He likes to toss his blond hair back and forth like this. He thinks it’s a turn-on.” She demonstrated. It was pretty funny.

“We don’t have to put up with him much longer,” I said. “This is his last scene.” I brushed a tuft of hair off Jake’s forehead. “You have better hair than Jeremy.”

“Thanks. It’s banging hot out there. You two want to come for a swim when you’re finished?”

“Sure,” I said. Hey, an actual invitation from Jake. Wow. But he had his eyes on Delia.

“I … might be busy,” Delia said. Then she added, “Where’s Shawn? He doesn’t answer my texts.”

“Laguna,” Jake said. “Dee, you sure you don’t want to come over later?”

Before she could answer, Les Bachman interrupted. “Okay, people. It’s not getting any earlier. Places, please.”

Delia and I set down our Coke cans and hurried back to the set. Annalee patted the crew guy’s chest, then trotted into the kitchen. Aidan returned, smelling of cigarette smoke.

“Okay. We’ve got everyone but our star,” Les said. “Anybody see the great Jeremy? Maybe he decided to read his script.” He laughed at his own joke.

“Jeremy Dane? Jeremy?” Becka shouted. Her voice echoed through the big house.

“Probably downstairs in his dressing room,” I said. “I’ll go get him.”

I started toward the back stairway. Delia hurried after me. “I’ll go with her,” she announced.

The dressing rooms were downstairs in the basement of the old mansion. The steep wooden stairs creaked beneath us as we made our way down, leaning on the narrow banister. “Jeremy! Hey—Jeremy?” I shouted.

No reply.

A row of small dressing rooms began at the bottom of the stairs. The first door was open and yellow light washed out.

I heard rapid footsteps. Running in the other direction.

“Jeremy? Is that you?” I called.

Delia shouted, too. “Hey, Jeremy—you’re keeping everyone waiting.”

I peered into the open dressing-room door. I saw a mirrored dressing table, a small, open closet, empty, and a table cluttered with food plates and soda cans.

And then I saw Jeremy Dane.

From the back. He appeared to be standing in front of a microwave oven on the wall. He leaned toward the oven, the door open just a crack.

“Jeremy? Hey—Jeremy? What’s up?” I called.

Jeremy didn’t move.

I grabbed Delia’s hand and squeezed it hard as we stepped closer.

And then a groan escaped my throat, and I thought I would toss my breakfast.

Jeremy’s head … his head … it was
inside the microwave
.

His body stood limp and unmoving, propped against the wall. And his head …

“He’s
burned
!” Delia screamed. “His
whole face
is burned black!”

Yes. I pulled open the microwave door and saw him clearly. His skin was black, like burned meat, and peeling off his face, curling off in flakes.

We both screamed as his body suddenly fell. It collapsed and tumbled heavily to the floor.

I heard a sick
rrrip
sound. And stared in frozen horror … stared into the oven … stared … stared at his melted skin.

Jeremy was crumpled on the floor. But half of his face—half of his face was stuck to the bottom of the microwave.

25

MELTED CHEESE

“WE’VE BEEN MOPING AROUND FOR TWO DAYS,” Jake said. “We need to think about something else.”

“How
can
we?” I cried. I didn’t mean to sound so shrill. “Jake, you didn’t see what Delia and I saw. Jeremy’s face
melted
. His head was totally black, and his skin was stuck to the microwave. How could that happen?
How?
”

The four of us were in a tiny booth at the Hamburger Hamlet on Larchmont, south of Beverly. It seemed that whenever real horror struck, we had to soothe ourselves with cheeseburgers.

Shawn pulled a long gob of cheese from his burger and lowered it to his mouth.

Delia uttered a groan. “How can you eat
melted cheese
after what we saw?”

I don’t know why, but that made me laugh. Yes, Jeremy’s face was like melted cheese. But why was I laughing? Nervous laughter, I guess. Laughter to keep from crying.

Shawn shook his head. “The whole thing is impossible. If his head was in the microwave, the door had to be open. And if the door was open, the microwave wouldn’t work. I think—”

“Shawn, we’ve been over this a hundred times,” I said. “You’re repeating yourself.”

“It doesn’t make sense—”

“Listen. We saw what we saw. The police said there was an electrical surge, like an explosion. He leaned into the microwave to put in his lunch and … it just exploded. He was nuked standing up.”

“How can it be an accident?” Delia said softly. She’d only taken one small bite from her cheeseburger. “The police decided it was an accident. But … it was just like what happened in the old film.” She shivered.

I felt sick. Two days later, and I still felt sick. “His hair was all melted,” I said. “It was totally stuck together. Like it had turned to wax. Oh, wow.”

Jake pushed his milk shake glass toward me. “Here. Drink some.”

My hand shook as I raised the glass to my mouth. I took a sip, then shoved the glass away.

Jake finished his cheeseburger and scooped up the slice of pickle that had fallen onto the plate. I knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to get everyone to act normal.

But how could we?

Delia sighed. “I think some crazy person is trying to re-create the original movie. You know. Kill the people in the mansion one by one the way they were killed in the film.”

“That’s too sick,” Shawn muttered.

“That’s way crazy,” Jake said. “The police were all over it. They said it was an accident. A horrible accident.”

“That’s
two
horrible accidents,” I muttered. I raised my eyes to Jake. “I’m starting to think you’re right. Maybe there
is
a curse on Mayhem Manor.”

Delia suddenly uttered a sharp cry and her eyes went wide. “Claire, you’re Darlene, right? Does that mean you’re
next
?”

Shawn wiped milk shake off his upper lip with the back of his hand. He squinted at me. “I don’t believe it. Your parents are going on with the movie?”

I nodded. “Yes. They’re desperate to keep it going.”

“Our parents hired a ton of security guards,” Jake said. “These dudes will be everywhere. I heard my dad say that should make the set safe from now on.”

I blinked. “Safe from accidents? How can you be safe from accidents?”

Delia frowned. “Do we each get a security guard? Someone to follow us everywhere we go?”

“Probably,” Jake said.

Delia giggled. “I hope mine is cute.”

Shawn didn’t even bother to ask. He took the cheeseburger from Delia’s plate and tilted it to his face.

Jake’s phone bleeped. He pulled it from his pocket. I could read it over his shoulder. It was a text from Annalee:
Where r u?

“We’ve got to go,” he said. He started to slide out of the booth.

Shawn sighed. “A beautiful summer day. Wasted. A day without a wave is a wasted day.”

I patted him on the shoulder. “Shawn, you’re a poet.”

Shawn was right. We stepped out into an amazing L.A. summer day, warm, the air fresh and soft, clear blue skies. The kind of day everyone should be happy. But it was impossible to toss off the gloom.

I couldn’t shut the horrifying pictures from my mind. Lana’s hand. Jeremy’s face. They kept moving through my mind as if they were on a continuous loop. Over and over. I didn’t know how to stop them.