Once Upon a Halloween (13 page)

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Authors: Richard Laymon

Tags: #Horror

BOOK: Once Upon a Halloween
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    "We aren't where we were," she said.
    "How far?"
    "Forty, fifty feet?"
    "Not bad."
    "How far to go?"
    "Hard to tell," Laura said. "Real dark this way. I'd say... another thirty feet?"
    Shannon moaned.
That far?
    "To the creek?" she asked.
    "To the edge of the slope."
    "After that, all downhill."
    "Only trouble is, we've got... a big old headstone in the way. Maybe six feet from here. We'll have to..."
    Off in the distance, shapes moved among the shadows far to the right of the bench. Shannon's stomach went cold and tight.
    
"Shhhh!"
    "What?" Laura whispered.
    "Someone's coming."
    "Oh, God."
    They both went silent.
    The shapes came out of the shadows, walked into moonlight, and Shannon saw they were people. Four of them wore dark, flowing garments. The robes Hunter had talked about? If so, these were probably members of the group. He'd said there were a dozen or more of them.
    Those who'd attacked Shannon and Laura didn't seem to be among them.
    
Might be. Maybe they put robes on after they left us.
    She doubted it, though.
    
This must be four of their pals.
    One walked at each end, and one on each side, of a line of smaller people.
    The smaller people walked single-file with their heads down. They didn't wear robes. They seemed to be in different kinds of costumes. A clown? One seemed to be sporting a cowboy hat. Another wore a cape that fluttered in the wind. One looked white from head to toe and seemed to be some sort of monster.
    In all, Shannon counted seven smaller people.
    Are they kids? she wondered. They
must
be. Some were larger than others, but all were smaller than their robed escorts. And all of them appeared to be wearing costumes.
    She whispered, "Oh, man."
    "What?" Laura asked, her voice so quiet Shannon could barely hear it through the sounds the wind made.
    "They've got kids."
    "Huh?"
    "Looks like... this cult or whatever... they've snatched a bunch of trick or treaters."
    "Oh, my God."
    "Must be seven kids over there. They're all in a line, maybe tied together."
    The group came to a stop in the area between the marble bench and the Kneeling Girl.
    Shannon heard a rough male voice. Though she couldn't make out the words and her view was partially blocked, she saw kids get down on their knees.
    It made her think of grainy, black and white film... documentaries in which a man walks up behind each kneeling person and puts a Luger to the back of the head and fires and the person tumbles forward into a pit.
    
They wouldn't
...
    "What're they doing?" Laura whispered.
    "I'm not sure."
    One of the kids... the white monster... suddenly leaped up and made a break for it.
    "Get him!"
    "Stop him!"
    Two of the robed figures gave chase.
    "Go, kid!" Shannon whispered.
    "What?"
    "Kid's making a getaway. Two assholes chasing him and... Oh, shit."
    "What?"
    "Kid's running straight toward
us."
    
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
    
    
Don't do this to us, kid!
Shannon shouted in her mind.
Turn! Dodge 'em! Run somewhere else!
    He didn't. He sprinted over much the same route Shannon and Laura had used, leading the two robed adults closer and closer to them.
    One of the pursuers was gaining on him fast. A man. Very large and strong-looking. His hood had fallen away and his robe was open, his bare legs reaching out with long strides.
    
Kid doesn't stand a chance.
    If this guy nails him quick enough, Shannon thought, may be we won't get seen.
    
They're so close already.
    The lead pursuer leaped and tackled him. The kid grunted as he slammed against the ground.
    Fifteen feet away?
    
If we lie very still and don't make a sound...
    Now that the kid was down, the second pursuer stopped running. This one was tall and thin. The hood had fallen away. By what Shannon could see of the face, she appeared to be a woman. Her high, narrow head seemed entirely hairless
    
Is she looking at us?
    Shannon doubted it. Though the woman's eyes were shadowed pits, she held her head at an angle that suggested she was watching the struggle between her accomplice and the kid.
    The kid wouldn't give up. Facedown under the man who'd tackled him, he thrashed and squirmed and kicked.
    Then the man bent an arm up behind his back.
    The kid gasped,
"Yeeeah!"
and stopped moving.
    "Cocksucker," the man said. "I oughta rip yer arm off."
    He shoved it higher. The kid squealed.
    The woman stopped beside them. Looking down, she said, "We told you what would happen if you tried to run away. We warned you, didn't we." It didn't sound much like a question. "So what did you do? You tried to run away. Royce, get him on his feet."
    Royce climbed off the kid and hauled him off the ground.
    "What's your name?" the woman asked.
    "Betsy."
    
"Betsy?"
The woman chuckled. "Had me fooled."
    With Royce holding the girl from behind, the woman reached out with both hands and pulled off Besty's mask. The mask, completely covering the girl's head, came off with a rubbery, peeling sound. Her short, dark hair was matted down.
    "What're you supposed to be?" the woman asked.
    "A monster."
    She laughed. "We're the monsters around here, honey."
    That got a chuckle from the man.
    Then the woman swung the leather mask, slapping Betsy across the face with it. The girl flinched and gasped.
    All three - Royce, Betsy and the woman - were standing with their sides toward Shannon and Laura. The girl seemed to have the full attention of the two adults.
    With a little luck, Shannon thought, they'll never look over here and see us.
    But she flinched, herself, when the woman again whapped Betsy across the face with the mask. This time, Betsy began to sob.
    "What'd I say would happen if you tried to run away?"
    "Said... you'd kill us."
    "Didn't you believe me?"
    "Yes."
    "Did you think I was joking?"
    "No."
    "Did you
want
to get killed?"
    This time, her voice climbed high as she said, "No."
    "Then why did you run?"
    Betsy sniffed a couple of times. "I... I didn't think you'd catch me."
    "You didn't think. That was your problem."
    The girl didn't answer. She stood there, held by Royce, her head tilted back, apparently staring into the woman's eyes.
    "Now," the woman said, "I'm afraid I'll have to kill you, just to teach you a lesson, but also as an example to the others. When they see what I do to you, well... I don't think any
of them
will try to run away."
    "Don't. Please?"
    The woman turned her head away. "See? They're all watching."
    Royce and Betsy looked, too.
    The woman called out, "Watch this, children!" Facing Betsy, she reached inside her robe and pulled out a dagger.
    "You better not," Betsy said, her voice quivering. " 'Cause of you'll go to Hell if you do."
    Royce chuckled softly.
    "Isn't that cute?" the woman said.
    "Leave her alone," Shannon said.
    The three heads jerked sideways. Though their eyes were hidden in shadow, Shannon fell them searching the ground for her, finding her, locking on to her and Laura.
    "Sorry, Laura," she whispered.
    "It's okay. I wanted to. I was just too scared."
    "Who's there?" the woman asked.
    "Mulder and Scully. You're under arrest."
    "A comedian," Royce said.
    "Hang on to the kid," the woman said. Walking slowly toward them, she reached into a pocket of her robe and took something out.
    A flashlight.
    Its beam leaped through the darkness, lit the grass in front of Shannon, then swept over her. She squinted when the glare hit her eyes.
    "I don't think
these
two'll be giving us much trouble," the woman called.
    The brightness slid away from Shannon's eyes and she was able to see the woman walking toward her.
    "Well, well, well," the woman said. "All trussed up and nowhere to go."
    
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
    
    Hunter and Charles waited at the foot of the stairs for Tony to come down.
    Hunter was sitting upright on the third stair from the bottom, close to the banister where he'd scooted to let Tony climb by. Charles stood on the foyer floor, facing the stairway, the sword resting against his shoulder.
    "What's taking him so long?" Hunter asked.
    "I don't know." Charles didn't seem worried.
    "He said he'd be down in a minute."
    "Guess it's taking him a little longer."
    "A lot longer. What'd he go up for?"
    "None of your business."
    "Do you know?" Hunter asked. He'd watched Tony whispering close to Charles's bandaged ear just before hurrying upstairs, so he figured that Charles must know something.
    "I'm not supposed to tell."
    "What, did he have to take a dump or something?"
    Charles swung up a foot and kicked Hunter in the shin. Not hard. More of a warning than a punishment.
    It hurt, though. Hunter said, "Hey."
    "Don't be a wiseass."
    "Aren't you worried about him?"
    "Why should I be?"
    Hunter hesitated. Though Charles and Tony had seemed to believe him about the girls being abducted - and had talked about attempting a rescue - they still didn't trust him very much.
    "I just hope he's all right," Hunter said.
    "Why
wouldn't
he be?" Charles had a sharpness in his voice. "Is someone up there?"
    "No. Not really."
    
"Not really?"
    "I mean
no
," Hunter said. "Nobody's up there.
You
went upstairs. You didn't see anyone, did you?"
    "Plenty of places to hide. If you've got a... an accomplice or something upstairs..."
    "I don't."
    Charles tipped back his head and frowned up the stairway. "Tony!" he shouted.
    No answer came.
    "TONY?" he shouted again.
    When silence answered this shout, too, Charles lowered his eyes to Hunter and raised the sword off his shoulder. "What's going on?"
    "I don't know."
    He saw the look in Charles's eyes.
    "I
don't!"
he insisted. "But some weird stuff happened up there with Eleanor. She got... she almost got hanged, but nobody was there."
    "What're you...?"
    "It was like someone invisible put a cord around her neck and he was dragging her across the floor with it."
    "But no one was
there?"
    "T know it sounds..."
    "Old man Witherspoon?"
    "I don't... no, it wasn't
anybody
. Nobody was there."
    "He's supposed to be a ghost," Charles explained.
    "Huh?"
    "I don't know. Shit. Laura and Shannon, they say they've got these ghosts. But...
TONY!"
he shouted.
    Again, no answer.
    Gazing up the stairway, Charles muttered, "Shit."
    "Can ghosts
hang
people?" Hunter asked.
    "How do I know? No. They've never done anything to Laura or Shannon... scared 'em a few times... if they even. thought maybe the gals were pulling our legs...
TONY!"
    Gripping the banister, Hunter rose to his feet. "We'd better go up and look."
    Charles glared at him. "Is this some kinda trick?"
    "I wish."
    "I don't know if we oughta go up there.
TONY! DAMN WHAT'S GOING ON? ARE YOU OKAY? ANSWER ME, DAMN IT!"
    Tony didn't answer.
    "I'll go up," Hunter said.
    "You're supposed to stay here."
    "Give me the sword."
    "No." Raising it high, Charles backed away from the stairs, "You've got your knife. I'll keep the sword."
    "You coming?"
    "Yeah. Okay. But you go first."
    Pulling Eleanor's knife from its sheath, Hunter raced up the stairs. He stopped at the top. Stopped and looked around.
    Charles, halfway down, asked, "What're you doing?"
    The hallway was dark. So was every doorway. The lights in every room seemed to be off.
    "Where was he going?" Hunter asked.
    "Shannon's bedroom."
    "It's dark," he said. "They're all dark. There were lights on when I was up here before."
    "When I came up, too," said Charles. "I think almost every room was lighted."
    "You didn't turn any off?"
    "No."
    Remaining at the top of the stairs, Hunter called out, "TONY?"

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