Authors: Carolyn McCray,Elena Gray
WidowMaker (22 page)
“Not too bad …”
A vicious roar arose in the distance. Mitchell was back to bouncing on his toes. Each hop pushed Derek forward. He shot Mitchell an irritated look.
“Um … I hate to be rude, but we’ve got to keep moving!” Mitchell warned, gesturing toward the sound. “Can’t you hear them? Bambi and Thumper are getting hungry out there!”
“Give me a minute!” Derek ground out.
“But …”
Impatient, Derek snapped, “Then scout ahead!” The kid survived zombies, Mr. Hyde, and mutated ants. Where was the kick-ass Mitchell? Because right now, Derek needed him.
“Go out there? By myself? Are you …?”
Derek glared at Mitchell. The sound of the animals drew closer.
Mitchell bobbed his head. “Okay … I’m not going outside of screaming range, though.”
Once Mitchell moved off, Derek leaned in toward Jill.
“I’m sorry, I …”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be more careful next time and watch where I step.”
“No …” Derek said suddenly feeling the fool. But with death on the horizon, he didn’t want their story to end in a fight. “No, not about tonight. Well, yeah, about tonight. But I meant about everything …”
Jill’s eyes softened. She tenderly placed her finger to Derek’s lips, silencing him. “Later.”
Derek forgot about the approaching tree animals, the monsters, everything. Right now all that mattered was Jill.
“There may not be a later …” Derek wrapped his fingers around Jill’s shoulders, pulling her in closer.
“There has to be …” Jill whispered, her eyes drifted closed. Her lips parted.
Just as Derek felt Jill’s warm breath on his lips, Mitchell ran toward them, screaming. “Holy shit! This is
not
good!”
The kid and his timing. But then he noticed that Mitchell was kicking snakelike vines away from Derek and Jill. For once—well, make that twice—Mitchell saved the day.
“We’ve got some seriously evil foliage, and the damn altar is just beyond these trees!” Mitchell yelled. “Plus, I get to tell you ‘I told you so’ until the end of time!”
Derek pushed himself off the ground. He grasped Jill by the elbow, guiding her to her feet. “Can you manage?”
“Guess I’ll have to.”
Derek wrapped his arms around Jill’s waist, supporting her. He half carried her toward the glow that now pulsated, giving the effect of a forest fire.
“Cecil!” Jill shouted.
Their driver was strapped to a stone altar surrounded by a circle of glowing stone pillars. This must be where the main event was taking place. The official sacrifice. Derek slipped his sleeve back, checking the time. Almost 1:30. They needed to get out of there. Fast.
Jill limped toward Cecil. Derek placed a restraining hand on her arm.
“I’ll take point.”
Derek circled the glowing stones. He hesitated before letting his fingertips touch the stone. Like a light, they all snapped out at once.
“Good going. On your first try you found the ‘off’ switch.” Mitchell said from behind Derek.
“Stay here,” Derek said, holding his palm up. “I’ll free Cecil.” Leaves crunched under Derek’s shoes with each step. “Cecil?”
Cecil’s eyes fluttered open, then closed again. Derek drew his knife, careful not to cut the man as he sliced the rope.
“Hold still. I’ll have you free in a second.”
“H … help me!” Cecil moaned. His body jerked, and the knife bit into Cecil’s wrist.
Like watching a movie in slow motion, Derek saw blood swell from the wound, small drops dripped off Cecil’s wrist onto the altar. The splash of each drop amplified.
The altar burst into an orange glow. The surrounding stones flashed on one by one.
“That is not good.” Frantic, Derek cut away at the rope on Cecil’s other arm.
“Hurry!” Jill pleaded.
“She’s right! It’s time! The ninety-minute mark of the premiere!” Mitchell warned.
Derek watched as the surface of the stone shuddered. Cecil’s body shifted, as though he were lying on a bed of water.
“Get me off of here!” Cecil yelled, his arms and legs flailing. The altar slowly sucked Cecil in.
Derek clutched Cecil’s arm, every muscle in his body strained against the force drawing Cecil under. Derek turned to Jill and Mitchell. “Help me!”
Muffled cries came from the stone. Cecil’s entire body was swallowed, except for his arm. Jill dug her fingers into Cecil’s shirt. Mitchell wrapped his arms around Derek’s waist, anchoring him in place. Derek groaned as he braced his foot against the altar.
Mitchell tightened his grip around Derek. “He must be the final sacrifice! The last payment of blood! Once Cecil’s consumed, the spirit will be free!”
“No!” Jill cried. Her body pulled closer to the altar, and her arm scraped against the stone.
“I can’t hold him! I’m losing him!” Sweat trickled down Derek’s arms, making his palms slick.
“Don’t!” Mitchell yelled.
Cecil’s hand tore out of Derek’s grip. Jill still clung to her driver, tumbling into the altar with Cecil.
“Jill!” Derek dove at the stone. His body slapped against the hard surface. “No!” Derek slammed his fists against the altar. “Jill!”
Mitchell slumped to the ground, his head in his hands. “We’re too late …”
* * * * *
CHAPTER 16
Wind shrieked and howled around Derek, kicking up dirt and pebbles. The stones throbbed with a ruddy glow, like a steady heartbeat.
Derek tipped his head back, releasing a tortured scream.
“No! You can’t have her!” Derek squeezed his eyes shut against the memory of Jill being sucked through the stone. “Not again!” Derek whispered.
Pain seared through his chest. Derek would rather take a bullet again, than to lose Jill.
“There’s nothing you can do!” Mitchell yelled, shaking Derek. “It’s coming … look!”
Derek turned as a cyclone of leaves spiraled toward them. Shifting and churning, a cloaked form bloomed out of the chaos.
“The Druid god …” Mitchell said in awe.
Derek stood transfixed by the shape taking form in front of him. It resembled the Grim Reaper. Dark and foreboding. Masking an unknown terror inside. The only thing it lacked was a scythe. Arms raised, a foreign chant floated out from the depths within, and then a figure seemed to come forth from the darkness.
“Derek!” Jill’s scream erupted from deep inside the cloak.
“Jill?” Derek asked, squinting and peering into the cloak. His arm unconsciously reached forward.
“Help me!”
“Jill!” Derek took a step toward the god, stopping short when the air around him crackled and popped. Everything in the woods shimmied and jerked. Familiar music from
Terror
rang out.
“It’s connecting to the film!” Mitchell shouted over the growing noise. “It’s about to break loose!”
“Not if I can help it!” Derek raised his gun, aiming for the head of the god. “Not with Jill!” Derek didn’t know how she transferred from the altar to the god. He didn’t care. All that mattered was getting Jill the hell out of that thing.
“Gunfire isn’t gonna kill it! It’s like the mechanical monsters. You need to discover … discover a …”
“A weak spot?” Derek finished, looking at Mitchell for confirmation.
“Exactly.”
“But what?” Derek had to kill it, without harming Jill.
“Hey, do I look like a Druid?” Mitchell asked, flinging his arms wide.
Fred’s iPhone would come in handy right about now. A quick Google search on Druid gods would be nice.
Jeremy’s voice rose above the music. “Come to us, Lord!”
Derek glanced around the woods. He could have sworn that he heard Jeremy’s voice. “Did you hear that?” Derek asked Mitchell.
“What?” Mitchell asked, eyes darting around the circle.
“Fill us with your spirit!” Jason pleaded.
“The twins. They must be here somewhere.” And when Derek got his hands on them, he was going to rip their heads off. Preferably at the same time.
“It’s escaping!” Mitchell warned, pointing behind Derek.
Derek spun around to see a theater filled with people. Jeremy and Jason knelt in front of the screen, their arms outstretched to the god.
“Shit! They really did conquer the 3-D barrier,” said a person in the audience.
Derek looked at Mitchell to confirm that what he saw was real. Mitchell was slack-jawed. Yep, it was real.
“Mitchell, are we in the movie?” Derek asked. The answer, obviously, was in front of them. But they did not want to believe it.
“Oh, Spirit of Root and Loam, give us your blessing!” Jeremy said, bowing. His forehead almost touched the floor.
Jason mirrored Jeremy’s position. “We, your humble servants, await your touch!”
A gnarled hand of twisted roots burst through the screen into the theater.
“Screw it!” Derek wasn’t about to let that thing get away with Jill and kill all of those innocent people in the theater. Derek released two shots into the god’s head. The god paused. Its neck cracked and snapped as it swiveled around.
“No!” Jeremy screamed, jumping up.
“Ignore him!” Jason sat up on his heels, unfazed by Derek’s attack. “He is of no consequence.
“I told you—bullets won’t kill it!” Mitchell shouted.
“But they’re doing a pretty damn good job of distracting it!” Derek backed Mitchell away, walking the length of the screen. Derek fired another round into the cloak. “Now think of a way to kill this thing!”
“Why me?” Mitchell asked, whining.
“Because I don’t see you doing a whole hell of a lot …”
The god let out a roar of air, vaulting Derek and Mitchell through the movie screen and into the theater. Mitchell’s underwear-clad body crashed into Derek’s.
“Ouch!” exclaimed Mitchell, as he glanced around the theater.
Derek shoved Mitchell off and scrambled to his feet. The Baxter brothers headed straight for Derek, looking mighty pissed. Yeah, well, that made three of them. Derek scanned the floor for his gun. It rested under one of the theater seats. The man occupying the seat shoveled popcorn into his mouth, fascinated by what he undoubtedly thought was part of the show.
Jeremy swung at Derek. Dodging the blow, Derek slammed his fist into Jeremy’s jaw. Jason caught Derek off guard with a punch to the ribs. Derek doubled over, clutching his side. Derek underestimated the brothers in a fistfight.
The audience cheered in the background, telling Derek to kick the brothers’ asses. Derek always thought it was funny—how people talked to the movie. As if the actors could really hear them. Well, at least this time, they could.
Jason slumped to the floor. Mitchell held a large, yellow canister, which he’d used to crack the brother in the head. “That’s for the zombies!”
Mitchell twisted open the canister, splashing a greasy yellow liquid on the movie screen. Before Derek could ask why, Jeremy’s arm wrapped around his neck from behind—squeezing Derek’s airway in a viselike grip. Derek jammed his elbow into Jeremy’s sternum.
“Hurry!” Mitchell commanded.
“I don’t need any encouragement there!” Derek said, diving for his gun, his shoulder slammed into the floor. He lifted it, aiming at Jeremy.
“No!” Mitchell yelled. “Shoot the screen!”
“What …?” Derek asked, confused.
“It’s popcorn butter!”
Derek glanced at Mitchell. “Have you lost it?”
“It’s mostly oil. Flammable oil!”
Derek swung the gun and fired. Flames erupted, licking a path to the god.
“No!” Jeremy screamed as the god roared in agony. Its form retreated into the woods through the screen.
“Oh no, you don’t! I’m not done with you yet!” Derek crossed his arms over his face to block the flames, and then leapt through the screen.
Cheering and clapping accompanied Mitchell’s war cry, as he followed Derek into the woods. Derek hoped that the fire would consume the god. Devouring the leaves and roots. No such luck. The god backed away, with Jill still inside.
“Any bright ideas, yet?” Derek asked advancing on the Druid god.
“No, but if it’s any consolation, I think we just saved the president and all of LA.”
But no one was safe until this thing was destroyed and the Baxter brothers locked up for life. “Sorry, but not with Jill …”
A gnarled hand shot out of the cloak. Derek tackled Mitchell. A
whoosh
of air and a stray branch scraped over their backs. Mitchell gave Derek the “my hero” look as they rolled to their sides they watched the hand pierce the wall of fire on the screen. The god’s shrieks of pain left Derek’s ears ringing. Jeremy and Jason ripped back through the screen, their tuxedos embraced by fire. Their agonized screams blended with their god’s, as their flaming bodies were dumped like unwanted garbage. Flipping around on the ground, their clothes were now a torn and smoldering mess.