“Now … now, Agent Boulder, watch your language,” Jason scolded, wagging his finger in Derek’s face. “There is a lady present.”
“Such a shame that the young girl died,” Jeremy continued. “Tragic, really. She was quite lovely.”
Derek tried to swallow. His throat tightened, almost choking. Derek blinked back the image of clear, blue eyes, no longer bright with life. Derek looked to Jill and saw the pity in her eyes. He knew that his mother told her about D.C. That she always stayed in contact with Jill, never accepting that it was over between them. But Derek couldn’t let the brothers distract him. He needed to stay focused if there was any survival outcome left.
“What have you done to Mitchell?” Derek asked, to distract not only himself but the brothers from pursuing his history.
“The studious master of the macabre?”
“I’m afraid he’s met a fitting end.” Jason turned to the control panel. A new image popped up on the monitor. A body in a white shirt and pants sprawled on the floor, a dark liquid pooled beneath.
“Unfortunate, really … he was doing so well.”
“Until he met Mr. Hyde.” Jason shook his head, his expression somber. “A true shame. He was such a good player.”
“Oh, God … Mitchell …” Jill sobbed, bowing her head.
Mitchell was just a kid. How could these bastards kill a kid? Shit. It was Derek’s fault. He should have found a way to go after him. The kid would have been safer in jail. Mitchell would have been home by now. Probably getting high with his roommates. “So I suppose this is the time you tell us what evil plan you have for the world?”
Derek needed to stall them. The sheriff should be here soon. These guys were arrogant enough to want to boast about their genius plan.
Jeremy frowned, looking at Jason. “Are we required to do that?”
“I don’t think so,” Jason shrugged. “But if it’s proper etiquette. …”
“We wouldn’t want to disappoint.”
Of course not. They’re real people pleasers. So polite, even when they’re trying to kill someone.
“Let me guess,” Derek said nodding toward the television where the president and first lady were being escorted into the theater, surrounded by Secret Service. “Assassination. How much are you being paid?”
Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Those two windbags …”
Jason lifted his hand to his mouth, faking a yawn. “…They bored us to death at the White House last month.”
“Surely, they should be put out of their misery,” Jeremy’s lips tilted down. “But …”
“… their appearance is just one of life’s happy little coincidences,” Jason finished, smiling.
The brothers were sick. How had no one noticed their homicidal tendencies?
“Then why are you doing all of this?” Jill sobbed. “Why were you so insistent on this date for the premiere?”
The twins looked at Jill in unison, perfecting the perfect pout.
“We’ve always respected you, Ms. Connor,” Jeremy said, holding his hand over his heart.
Jason leaned over Jill, gently tucking a piece of straight, blonde hair behind her ear. “And held you in the highest esteem.” Jill didn’t break Jason’s gaze, but a tear clung to her lashes. After a moment, Jason let his hand fall. Reluctantly, he pushed himself upright. Jason’s indifferent mask slid back into place.
Derek gripped the armrest, repulsed that Jason would dare touch Jill with such an intimate gesture. Did Jason actually have feelings for her? Somewhere in that hollow heart of his, could Jason feel anything? But no matter how much it revolted Derek, he knew that this had to continue to play out. Let the clock tick the minutes away.
“So, we’ll answer your question,” Jeremy continued taking a seat in a leather recliner across from Derek.
Jason followed, sitting in a matching leather chair in front of Jill. Crossing his legs, he smoothed his camouflaged pants. “Tonight is the spring equinox.”
“When nature is reborn from winter’s death,” Jeremy sang, with a flick of his wrist.
Jason’s eyes took on a faraway look. “And the midnight hour is the night’s most potent cusp.”
“The holy moment in the Druid faith,” Jeremy’s voice was soft as he steepled his fingers under his chin.
“Druids?” Just when Derek thought he’d heard it all with these two. Now Druids.
“Those who worship the spirits of forest and nature,” Jason explained.
“Are you saying that you’re Druids?” Jill asked glancing from Jason to Jeremy. Her expression equally as confused as Derek’s.
“Don’t let our outstanding taste in fashion fool you. We were raised in the faith by our parents.”
“May they rest in peace,” they said.
The brothers bowed their heads in silence.
“But you’re computer geeks.” Derek said. “Gear-heads.” Shouldn’t they be living in the woods? Drinking from the creeks and rivers? Dancing naked under the moon?
“Of course we are. We hope to design a paperless world. A new computer age where no tree will need to be harmed.”
Great. Modern-day Druids bending the rules to fit into their world. Derek glanced at the television screen. The red carpet was empty except for Ryan Seacrest holding a microphone. The movie had already begun.
Jill shifted in her seat. “Like your house. No wood products.”
“And at our office. We run a paperless business. It is all done on computers.”
“Except for Post-it notes,” Jason corrected.
“Well, of course. Except for Post-it notes.” Jeremy waved his hand dismissively. “What business could run without Post-it notes?”
Derek cut in. “Fine! So you’re damn Druids!” Who really gave a shit? The only thing Derek cared about was the fact that they were cold-blooded killers. And what plans the brothers had for him and Jill. “It still doesn’t explain what you’re doing with a psycho horror movie.”
“Why, sacrifices, of course,” Jeremy replied to Derek as if he were a child.
“Blood rituals,” Jason supplied.
Jeremy leaned forward in his chair, bracing his arms on his legs. “The film has been our tool to bring the great spirit of the Angeles National Forest back into the world.”
Derek flexed his fingers, the bonds cutting off the circulation.
“Through sacrifices during the filmmaking …”
“… and our software technology …”
“… we’ve constructed a nexus for the spirit.”
“The film is a living conduit from our forest altar into the real world.” Rising from his chair, Jeremy walked to the control panel, bringing a new image up on the screen.
“Cecil!” Jill yelled, tugging against her restraints.
Tied to a stone altar, Cecil’s shirt was torn, and his left eye was swollen shut. Cecil struggled to break free from the rope wrapped around him.
“This night, the equinox, He will come again!” Jason pushed himself to his feet, pacing the room, his voice elevated with excitement. “From our altar to the nexus. He will be reborn and destroy the defilers.”
Jeremy looked away from the monitor. Placing his hand over his chest. “He will set His roots in our hearts! Give us power to defeat our enemies!”
Jason stopped pacing, shaking his fist in the air. “And we will finally topple Bill Gates!”
“Excuse me?” Derek frowned at Jill, then turned his attention to the brothers. Just when Derek thought he was beginning to follow them, they threw him another curveball. “Bill Gates?”
“Well, of course … What do you think we’ve been doing?”
How about murdering innocent people for the fun of it? Pissing me off with your games? How did they expect a sane person to understand the workings of their twisted minds?
“Gates has been stanchioned in that great forest of his in the Pacific Northwest for decades. His god is strong …”
Jeremy’s eyes darkened. “But once our spirit is
unleashed in physical form, there will be no stopping us.”
“His god will fall before us. His kingdom will be ours!”
“Are you suggesting Bill Gates is a Druid, too?”
“I thought everyone knew,” Jeremy said, lifting an eyebrow at Jill. “Where do you think his power arises? From Windows Vista?”
Jeremy and Jason both began to laugh. The sound was like dried leaves skittering across the floor.
“So, this has all been some sort of corporate Druid takeover?” Derek asked through clenched teeth.
“Well … duh!”
“Why else would we put so much effort into this?” Jason finished.
“But what does the premiere have to do with this?” Jill asked.
“The culmination of our dreams. At a certain point in the film, magic and technology will merge …” Jason threaded his fingers together to emphasize his point.
“Let me guess,” Derek said. “The ninety-minute mark. The ‘darkest hour’.”
Surprised, Jason bent over Derek. “My, my … you have been doing your homework, haven’t you? You are most correct.”
Jeremy lifted his arm, tapping his watch. “Which should be in about another thirty minutes.”
“Speaking of which, we should be going. The helicopter is all warmed up. We’ll have just enough time to change into our evening attire.”
“Quite right,” Jeremy added. “We wouldn’t want to miss this.”
“Wait! What will happen? At the darkest hour?”
“The final sacrifice will be made.” Jason turned back to the control panel, rewinding the E! News footage on the television. He stopped, playing the show when a group of Revenge of the Nerds types walked the red carpet. High-water pants, white short-sleeved dress shirts buttoned to the collar. Women in long, frumpy skirts, blouses tucked in. Clunky shoes.
How did this group make the guest list? They definitely weren’t Hollywood’s elite.
“Why do you think we invited Enterex’s Research Department?” Jeremy leaned back on the counter, smiling.
“Oh God!” It couldn’t be.
Confused, Jill looked at Derek. “What is it?”
“Virgins.” All those high school losers who grew up to have great jobs, but not great love lives.
“Exactly, my good man.” Jeremy confirmed, patting Derek on the shoulder. “Now, we really must be off.”
“Why?” Jill asked. “What do you hope to accomplish by all of this?”
Jeremy rubbed his temples. Clearly, he was annoyed with all of their questions. “I thought we’d made that amply clear. Our god will be reborn from the screen …”
“… and eat everyone in attendance …” Jason stated matter-of-factly.
“… trigger an earthquake that will destroy the blight that is Los Angeles …” Jeremy continued in a monotone while he pushed several buttons on the control panel.
“… and then grant us the power to take on Bill Gates.”
Jeremy turned, facing Derek and Jill. “It’s all quite simple, really.”
“And quite insane,” Derek remarked.
The brothers approached the doorway, but Jill’s words stopped them.
“Wait! What about us?”
Jeremy gave a shrill whistle. Two zombies lurched into the room. One zombie was missing an eye, realistic bone peeping through a hole in its cheek. The other zombie gnashed its razor-sharp teeth, dragging its leg behind it. “You get to stay for dinner.”
“Br … br … brains …” the first zombie moaned.
“Fantastic,” Derek said as the second zombie lurched toward him.
* * * * *
CHAPTER 14
Amanda Temple looked at the sea of hungry faces devouring each minute of Terror. Five hundred seats—not one vacant. Hollywood’s A-list wouldn’t even leave to use the restroom. Once Amanda dodged all of the obstacles, the premiere was flawless.
The president and first lady sat center stage. The Secret Service detail was scattered around the theater. A group of techno-geeks sat in the box to the left of the screen. They must work for Enterex. There was no other way that that mess would have been allowed through the door. Why the Baxter brothers wanted to waste perfectly good seats on such rabble was beyond Amanda.
“Five minutes into the film, the audience was shitting in their Armani pantsuits. Fifty minutes into the film, and they looked like they were going to toss up their dinner.” Amanda started writing the press release in her head.
She gave herself a mental pat on the back. Well done, Ms. Temple. Well done. You want something done right, do it yourself. However, she couldn’t rest on her laurels. She had to look ahead to secure a sequel with the Baxters, and secure the gaming rights. But all of the screaming from the film made it difficult to think.
Slipping through a door to the left of the screen, Amanda pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from her purse. The musty hallway behind the screen was crammed with boxes and broken theater seats. Avoiding the dust and grime, Amanda was careful not to let her evening gown get soiled.
Amanda dug in her purse to make sure she had perfume and mints. Wouldn’t do for the public to know that she smoked. It was so un-PC.
As she lit the cigarette and inhaled, several shrieks came from the screen. Amanda spun toward the movie, exhaling a stream of smoke. A group of teens ran through the darkened forest in front of her.
“Shut the hell up!” Amanda muttered, crossing her arms. “It’s only the woods at night, you freaks! Light a goddamn bonfire, if you’re flippin’ out. Light the whole damn woods, why don’t you? If I were there, that’s what I would do.”
A gnarled hand shot from the screen, grabbing Amanda by the waist, yanking her into the movie. Her startled scream blended with those in the movie.
Confused, Amanda looked around her. A forest thick with trees surrounded her. Muffled screams traveled through the chill night air. How the hell did she get in the woods? Amanda rubbed her arms. Her sleeveless evening gown was not meant for the outdoors.
“Isn’t that the president of Temple Studios?” An audience member asked.
Amanda directed her gaze toward the voice. She now stood above the audience, their attention focused on her. Their bewildered expressions mirrored Amanda’s.
“Amanda Temple? I think so,” another audience member said, her head cocked to the side, studying Amanda. “I didn’t know she had a part in this movie.”
“Man, this movie just gets weirder and weirder,” the first audience member said, shaking his head. “You want some popcorn?” he asked, pushing a bucket in front of the girl next to him.
“Not until I see what happens to Amanda. I’ve heard she’s a real bitch to work with.”
What the hell? How did she get up on the stage during the Terror premiere?
Amanda jumped as a hand gripped her shoulder from behind. A young girl walked around her.
“What are you doing here?” the girl asked, panting. “Did they get you, too?”
“What are you talking about?” Amanda swiped the girl’s hand away. “Where the hell am I?” Was this someone’s sick idea of a joke? A way to get even for her heavy-handed leadership?
An agonizing cry sounded in the distance.
Frantic, the girl tugged on Amanda’s arm, her eyes darted around the woods. “We’ve got to keep running! They let something loose in the woods.”
The girl dragged Amanda down the path. Amanda stumbled, her four-inch heel snagged on a root. “What are you talking about?” Amanda wrenched her arm out of the girl’s grasp. Does this girl work at Temple? She should know better than to put her hands on Amanda, let alone speak to her directly. All correspondence went through Simon. Speaking of Simon—where was that little twerp?
“We were supposed to improvise.” The girl glanced behind her, looking like a scared rabbit, ready to bolt at any moment. “They put us in the woods, and we’re supposed to respond to what happens. ‘Act natural’, they told us.” The girl’s voice rose, on the verg
e of hysteria. “But … but … this is real! Helen’s throat was torn open. I saw it with my own eyes. They lied to us! They’re murderers!
“Who?” Amanda searched the darkened woods. The trees seemed suddenly closer than they were a moment ago.
“The Baxter brothers.”
A shrill scream rent the air. Terrified, the girl bolted. Running deeper into the woods, she yelled, “We’re in a snuff film!”
Amanda watched the girl’s retreating figure. Great. Alone, with no idea how to get back to the theater. She glanced down at the cigarette, resting between her fingers. “Some asshole must have spiked my cigarette. LSD? PCP? I’ll have the bastard up on charges, and when I get through with him …”
A sharp crack sounded behind Amanda, interrupting her rant.
“Who’s there?”
Silence settled over the woods. The air was so still that not even a leaf rustled. Amanda took a step backwards. How are they doing this? Some kind of special effect? If the Baxter brothers were in on this prank, she would sue them for every last dime they had.
“I’m not playing this stupid game,” Amanda warned, holding up her cigarette. “I’ll burn this whole damn forest down!” She pulled her arm back, ready to toss the cigarette onto the mossy earth. A vine slithered around Amanda’s arm, and spikes shot into her flesh. Blood spurted, bright red drops dripped on the ground. Another vine snagged her legs, yanking her out of her heels.
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