Once Upon a Halloween (15 page)

    
I
knew she had a screw loose the minute I saw her running around naked under that sheet... I KNEW it... should've gotten the hell away from her...
.

    Probably
is
no Julie, he thought. This nutjob probably made up

    the story to lure us in.

    "What's going on?" he demanded. Though he trembled inside,

    his voice sounded good and stern. No answer came. "Okay," he said. And strode forward.
Am I out of my mind?
Jostling in his vision, the gray blur grew larger.

    
What if she's armed?

    She didn't seem to be making any move at all.

    He stopped in front of her and grabbed her shoulders through the sheet. They felt thick, hard, lumpy.

    He jerked the sheet away.

    Something dark, not a person. He ran his hands over it.

    Bark? Splintered wood? What was it, the remains of an old tree that had...?

    Crunching sounds came at him from behind.

    He whirled around and let out a startled cry.

    It was a woman. Probably the woman from under the sheet, but he couldn't be sure. All he saw was a large human shape rushing at him, a gray blur darker than the sheet but clearly a woman, a naked woman with her arms upraised.

    Something in her hands?

    He flung up his own arms to protect his head.

    But not fast enough.

    

    

    Walking was hard, lashed back to back, especially because of the difference in their sizes. Nor did it help that they were already in rough shape from the earlier assaults and worn out from so much rolling across the graveyard.

    Forced to return to their starting place, it would've been easier

    to roll than walk.

    When you're rolling on the grass, you don't fall down. When you don't fall down, you don't get smashed against the ground or ripped by the ropes or have to fight your way back to your feet to resume walking.

    For a while, they'd made some progress by sidestepping.

    Then the woman had pushed them, made them fall, and stood over them and taunted them.
What a couple of klutzes. Don't you know how to walk? Come on, come on, get up. Don 't just lie there On your feet. We haven't got all night.

    Up again, they continued their journey but didn't get very far before the woman pranced over to Laura. Matching her sidesteps, she shined her flashlight up and down Laura, then reached out with one hand and clipped her right breast.

    "Don't."

    She squeezed.

    "Ow!"

    "Nice."

    Laura kicked. Her toes jabbed the woman's right leg just below the knee.

    "Hey!" The woman hopped away but came back fast, raising her flashlight, swinging it at Laura's face. She missed, but not by much.

    And she only missed because Laura was lurching backward, carried out of range by Shannon, Shannon staggering, struggling to stay up after the sudden shift of balance. A moment later, Shannon gasped "Shit!" and Laura felt herself rising, tilting back. Her feet left the ground behind. She faced the windblown branches, the shredded white clouds, the bright moon.

    She felt a quick flutter of fear.

    A bad carnival ride.

    One that throws you backward.

    Afraid of bumping heads, she tucked down her chin.

    Her fall stopped with a jolt, a grunt from Shannon, and a slight forward motion as Shannon skidded on the grass. The impact jostled Laura, gave her injured body a rough shake, but didn't hurt too much.

    Thanks to Shannon.

    "Sorry," Laura muttered.

    Shannon groaned. "No... problem."

    Standing over them, the woman pulled off her robe and threw it to the ground. She wore nothing except a belt around her waist and a pair of black leather boots. "Royce," she said, "take the kid over with the others."

    "What're you gonna do?"

    "The bitch kicked me."

    "Ya don't wanta kill her."

    "Think not?" She unfastened her bell buckle.

    "I know she ain't a kid, Fain, but she's
young.
You shouldn't

    go and waste her."

    "Mind your own fucking business."

    "Yeah? We come up short, she's yours."

    Belt in hand, Fain slipped her dagger from its sheath and turned toward Royce.

    "I'm going, I'm going." He gave Betsy's arm a tug and hurried away with her.

    Fain waited, watching them leave. She waited and waited.

    When she's done waiting, Laura thought, she's going to use the dagger on me. She's going to kill me.

    
My God.

    It didn't seem possible. She wanted it to be a nightmare, wanted to wake up from it. But she knew it was no nightmare, knew it was real.

    A few minutes from now, she thought, I'll be dead.

    
This can't be happening.

    Only it is.

    It's happening all right. It happens to people all the time... no, not all the time, just once. But it happens every day to someone and why should I be any exception? It's just the way it goes.

    She'll probably kill Shannon, too. That'll be too bad, but at least we'll go together. It's not like we'll miss each other.

    
It'll kill Mom and Dad.

    The tall, hairless woman, dusky under the moon light, turned around and looked down at her. The shadows of bare, wind-shaken limbs trembled across her naked body.

    "Please," Laura said. "Don't. I'm sorry I kicked you."

    "Sorry doesn't cut it, honey." She smiled. "But
I
do.
I
cut it." She chuckled softly.

    "Don't. Please."

    Fain s hook her head. "Hut not right now."

    "Uh?"

    "The cutting will come later. The cutting and the killing, Royce really thought I'd do you now," Again, the soft chuckle "Don't worry, I won't. Royce has his head up his ass, but he was right about wasting you. You and your buddy get to stay alive a while longer."

    "Thank you."

    "You're so very, very welcome." Fain plunged the dagger into its sheath and pulled the sheath off her belt. Bending over, she slid them down into the top of her left boot. Then she wrapped her right hand around the buckle of her belt, swung the belt overhead and whipped it down.

    Through the Halloween wind, Laura heard it
whussss
on its way. Then came the
krak!
as the leather strap smacked her across the chest. She felt its fire. Felt her body lurch. Heard her cry of pain.

    
"What'd she do? "
Shannon blurted from underneath her.

    "Twenty lashes," Fain explained, and whipped Laura again.

    
"Damn you!"
Shannon cried out.
"Leave her alone! Stop that! You wanta pull shit like that, try it with me! Leave her alone!"

    "My, oh, my, aren't
we
gallant?"

    
"I'm gonna kill you, you fucking
..."

    Fain reached high with her right arm and twirled the belt overhead, her body shimmying with the circular motion of her arm. Shannon continued to yell, but Laura didn't listen to her words, all her focus on the twirling belt...

    
And here it comes again.

    "No!" Laura cried out.

    Her word didn't stop it.

    

    

    "Hi," Hunter said.

    Charles, sprawled at the foot of the stairway, squinted up at him.

    "You all right?" Hunter asked.

    Dumb question.

    "Don't... Don't hurt me."

    "I'm not gonna hurt you."

    But Charles was eyeing the sword in Hunter's right hand, the pistol in his left.

    Hunter raised the pistol. "Shannon's. It's no good anyway. Has a trigger lock." He raised the sword. "I got this off Eleanor. Your lucky sword, man. You had it when you fell down the stairs and you didn't even get cut."

    "I... fell?"

    "Down the whole stairway, sounded like, and you got knocked out. I was starting to think you might not wake up."

    Charles grimaced. Moving slightly, he gasped with pain. "What's... what's wrong with me?"

    "You got banged up a little."

    During the fall, his Van Gogh bandage had fallen off. He had the ear after all, but now it was bright with real blood. Above it, his bloody hair was matted to the side of his head.

    His paint-spattered shirt was torn open. His khaki trousers were twisted crooked and down so low around his hips they looked as if they might fall off if he stood up. If he stood up, however, his pants wouldn't be his biggest problem.

    His legs, slanting upward at a steep angle, were still on the stairs. The left leg was crooked below the knee, the high-top walking shoe sideways so it pointed toward the banister.

    "Well," Hunter said, "at least you got your ear back." He realized he didn't sound very sympathetic.

    That's because I'm
not,
he thought. Why should I feel sorry for this guy? Or for Tony? Roughing me up, treating me like a criminal from the moment they laid eyes on me.

    Shannon and Laura seemed too nice to be going with a couple of guys like these.

    Maybe they're just casual acquaintances.

    
Shannon won't be going with Tony anymore.

    Probably a good thing for Shannon, he thought.

    
Is she even still alive? Is Laura? Connie? I have to go after them.

    But what about Charles?

    Charles raised his head, winced but raised it higher. "My leg," he muttered.

    "I think it's broken," Hunter said.

    "Oh, my God." Charles lowered his head gently to the floor.

    "You were lucky, though."

    "Oh, yeah. Real lucky."

    "Luckier than Tony."

    He blinked a few times. "Tony?"

    "Your pal Tony. Sherlock Holmes."

    "I know who Tony is, for...
oh, my God!"

    "Yeah."

    
"Oh, my GOD!"

    Charles suddenly shoved at the floor, got to his elbows, pushed at the stairs with his right foot and scooted himself backward, his face crimson and twisted. He cried out when his left leg dropped to a lower stair.
"Help me! We've gotta get outa here!"

    "Take it easy," Hunter said. "You're hurting yourself."

    
"Help me!"

    "Just settle down. It's not gonna get you." Not completely sure of that, Hunter glanced up the stairway. "I don't think it cometh downstairs. It might, but..."

    
"Get me out of here!"

    His broken leg dropped to another stair and he squealed.

    "You shouldn't be moving," Hunter told him. "Why don't you just lie still?"

    
"Please!"

    "It's not gonna get you."

    His shoe slid off the edge of the next stair, fell and thudded. He cried out.

    "It's an upstairs ghost."

    "Witherspoon?"

    A smile broke across Hunter's face. He couldn't help it, but regretted it. Not so much because of Tony or Charles, but because of the girls. The smile felt like he was betraying them.

    Charles's foot dropped from the bottom stair. It struck the floor and he shrieked.

    "Look," Hunter said. "I've gotta go. I just stuck around to make sure you're all right."

    
"I'm not all right!"
He was scurrying backward toward the front door, his rump sliding over the floor, his right leg pushing, his left leg dragging.

    "I'll call 911 for you."

    "You haven't
called
them yet?"

    "I didn't think I should leave you by yourself."

    Alarm in his eyes, he blurted, "Why?"

    "I wanted to make sure you kept breathing and everything. And I didn't want the ghost to get you."

    "It's an
upstairs
ghost!"

    "Seems to be. But I'm not so sure it plays by the rules."

    "Huh?"

    "Not even so sure it's a ghost. I don't know
what
it is, but it only seems to nail people when they're alone. Now that you're awake, it'll probably be safe for me to leave you. You can yell if something happens." Hunter raised his left hand and pointed the pistol toward the living room. "I know right where the phone is. It's just in there."

    "Wait. No. Don't leave yet."

    "I'll be right back."

    "No! Help me get outside first! Please! Just on the porch. Okay? Please? I don't wanta
be
in here."

    "We'll get you outside
after
I call the paramedics."

    "Damn it, no!"

    Hunter almost smiled. Though slightly ashamed of himself, he liked how it felt to give Charles a taste of trouble.

    You should've treated me better, he thought, when
you
had the upper hand.

    "I'll be right back," he said.

    "Don't you
dare
leave!"

    "Yeah, sure."

    Hunter turned away and walked into the living room.

    The two people hurrying silently toward him wore gray robes. The hoods were up, but didn't hide their faces. Hunter knew the faces. Bryce and Simone. Bryce held a very large knife. Simone carried a hatchet.

    Hunter gasped.

    They rushed at him.

    But froze when he jammed the pistol in their direction and shouted,
"Hall or you're dead!"