WidowMaker

by Carolyn McCray

  Suspended from a tree, her dress torn at the waist, Amanda shrieked, “You bastards! I’m Amanda Temple!”

  The ground shook. Amanda cried out as each vibration dug the thorns deeper into her skin. An ominous chant grew in intensity. Closer. Closer.

  Amanda’s face contorted in fear. “Oh God! No!”

  Ripped from the vines by her hair, and the thorns tearing her flesh, the pieces softly fell to the ground. Amanda’s body slammed down with a thud. Her arms and legs kicked and flailed, struggling to escape. Amanda’s torn flesh left smears of blood along the path.

  Her screams faded into the night, the forest still.

  * * *

  The stench of rotting flesh choked the room. An eyeball slapped against the zombie’s cheek as he jerked toward Derek. Did they really need to make them so realistic? Derek kicked at the zombie’s knee, hearing the satisfying crack as he broke the joint. The zombie dropped to the floor, struggling to push itself up with its other leg.

  “Derek!” Jill screamed.

  The second zombie had Jill’s hair fisted in what was left of its hand. Her neck was exposed as its razor-sharp teeth descended. Jill pushed her chair, trying to tip it over. The chair creaked as Derek struggled to move closer to Jill. His feet pedaled against the floor.

  “Here, zombie, zombie, zombie.”

  Derek, Jill, and the zombie turned their heads to the voice coming from outside the door. The barrel of a shotgun poked into the room. It fired, blasting the zombie against the wall.

  Mitchell stepped into the room in nothing but boxer briefs, aiming a shotgun at the second zombie as it crawled toward Derek.

  “Mitchell!” Jill cried.

  “God, this place is infested with these things!” Mitchell said, firing the shotgun. The zombie pitched forward. Its head bounced off the floor with a crunch. “Someone really needs to call an exterminator.”

  How did he survive? Derek glanced at the monitor. The dead body was still lying in a river of blood.

  “Please! I’m a horror buff,” Mitchell explained, nudging the zombie with his toe. “You think I can’t stage my own death?”

  Derek had to give the kid credit. He saved himself, and now came to rescue Derek and Jill’s asses. Guess it wasn’t such a bad idea to bring Mitchell along.

  Jill’s face lit up with joy. “Thank God you’re okay!”

  Impatient, Derek twisted in his seat. “Get us out of these damn ropes.”

  Mitchell pulled a knife out of the waistband of his briefs, sawing at the ropes binding Derek’s wrists. No longer acting like the frightened kid, he actually looked the hero.

  “I found the main security room and froze all the indoor cameras so that they only showed empty halls. That’s where I found the gun.”

  Now that Mitchell was here, maybe he could help them figure out how to stop the Baxter brothers. “I don’t know how much you know about …”

  “From the security room, I eavesdropped on their little conversation. Druids? Who would have thunk it?”

  The last piece of rope fell away. Derek pushed himself out of the chair. Grabbing the knife out of Mitchell’s hand, he cut through Jill’s rope with one swipe. “Did you see where they went?”

  Mitchell said as he returned Derek’s gun, “The twins? I saw them take off in the Enterex chopper. They’re probably halfway to LA by now.”

  Derek grabbed the phone off the console, putting it to his ear. “Dead.” He slammed it down. “We’ve got to get out of here. Reach a phone. Alert the authorities.”

  “You’ll never make it,” Mitchell said looking at E! News on the television. “The film should be reaching the ninety-minute mark pretty damn quick.”

  Approaching moans drifted in from the hallway. How many monsters did they have roaming around this house?

  Derek ejected the clip from his gun, checking his ammo. “Did you find a way out?” He asked, snapping the clip back in place.

  “I freed all the locks. We can go out any entrance.”

  “The front door should do,” Derek said, patting Mitchell on the back. He grabbed Jill’s hand and stepped out of the room, his gun aimed in front of him.

  Mitchell picked up the shotgun, following Derek and Jill. “You know, horror pictures aren’t nearly as much fun when you’re actually in one,” he mumbled.

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER 15

  “The sheep await the slaughter.”

  “The time draws near.”

  “The Master comes.”

  “Then, let us greet him.”

  Jill tried to block it out, but the house was filled with the sound of the Baxter brothers’ chant. Seriously, those two just couldn’t get enough of themselves. How she ever considered promoting them, she really couldn’t understand. Not with Derek aiming his gun at an ant the size of a compact car. It’s two-foot-long antennae twitched as it skittered across the floor.

  “Run!” Derek yelled.

  Jill and Mitchell didn’t hesitate. They charged down the marble staircase, skirting the angry, waving antennae. Hitting the door running, they tumbled out into the night. Jill turned back to find the ant right side up and looking pretty pissed off. But Derek just smiled, that smile he got when he knew that things were going his way. The smile that made her fall in love with him in the first place.

  He hiked a leg over the banister and slid past the ant, landing lightly on his feet.

  “Hey! Why didn’t I think of that?” Mitchell said as he fired his shotgun over Derek’s head, knocking a leg off the ant. Still, that ant was fast, right on Derek’s heels as he ran for the door. Once he was through, Jill slammed the door closed. The ant banged its head against the door, the sound muted through the bulletproof glass.

  “Okay, who would’ve thought giant mutated ants would be so difficult to kill?” Mitchell panted.

  Jill pointed across the courtyard. “The limo!”

  She had never seen anything so beautiful in her life. Finally. Freedom. Derek pulled open the driver’s side door and slid into the driver’s seat. The keys were still in the ignition. Guess the brothers really didn’t expect them to make it out alive. Jill scrambled into the front seat next to Derek, while Mitchell practically climbed into her lap. The locks engaged, Mitchell knelt on the seat, cautiously poking his head into the back of the limo.

  “All clear,” Mitchell announced, raising the glass divider.

  Yes, but for how long?

  * * *

  Shifting the limo into drive, Derek slammed down the gas pedal. Tires spinning, rocks pinged off the undercarriage. The car rounded the circular drive, just as the mummy stepped in front of the limo. Arms outstretched as if it could singlehandedly stop the car.

  “Hold on!” Derek yelled, aiming straight for the mummy.

  Jill screamed as the car smashed into the creature. Its body thumped as it hit the hood and rolled onto the roof. A loose piece of linen snagged on the windshield wiper, unraveling until the mummy landed on the ground with a thump. Its mechanical insides sparked as it spasmed on the rocks.

  “Hurry!” Jill squirmed in her seat, glancing in the side mirror.

  “Darlin’, this isn’t exactly the ideal getaway car. I’m going as fast as I can,” Derek steered the car toward the tunnel of trees. The ground shook in front of them. Dirt cracked and spewed up like a volcano. A giant, twisted mass of roots and leaves rose before them.

  “Damn it!” Derek hit the brakes. The car fishtailed to a stop. What in the hell was that? Did the brothers have the whole place booby-trapped? There was no getting this limo over those roots.

  “Everybody out!” Derek yelled. He opened the door, reaching for Jill’s hand. Derek dragged her out of the car behind him.

  “Where’s the nearest town?” he asked as he glanced down at the cuts on Jill’s feet. She wouldn’t be able to hike far without shoes. Derek would have to carry her, which would slow them down.

  Mitchell eyed Derek warily. “You’re not suggesting we head out on foot?” Mitchell
wiggled his toes in his socks.

  Crap. Mitchell didn’t have shoes, either. This is exactly why you never remove your shoes when apprehending a suspect. You never know when you’d need to leave in a hurry. Mitchell would have to suck it up. Derek couldn’t carry both of them.

  Scrapes and cries came from the house. More flesh-eating zombies, giant insects, and deformed aliens spewed out the side door.

  Raising an eyebrow to Mitchell, Derek asked, “Any better ideas?”

  Jill pointed to a faint glow in the distance—like a lighthouse in a storm guiding them to safety. “Maybe that’s a house over that ridge.”

  The way their luck was going Derek doubted it, but at this point, there wasn’t another alternative. The only option was to keep moving and to hopefully find a phone. When he got ahold of the sheriff he was going to wring his neck. He should have arrived with the warrant hours ago.

  “Let’s go.”

  Jill moved in the direction of the light. Derek looked over his shoulder. Mitchell was rooted to the spot, doubt written all over his face.

  “I’ve got a really bad feeling about this,” Mitchell whispered, swallowing.

  Walking back to Mitchell, Derek caught the teen by his bare shoulder. Mitchell’s machismo seemed to have reached its expiration date. In a vise grip, Derek pulled him toward the woods.

  “You always have a bad feeling.” Derek was loath to admit it, but he did, too. Kinda hard not to when you’re about to enter a forest that was about to kill a theater full of people.

  “Yeah, but so far I’m batting a thousand,” Mitchell said, reluctantly following Jill and Derek.

  Derek caught Mitchell looking back at the house. He was probably wondering if his chances against the monsters were better than taking on the unknown in the woods. Derek had questioned it too, but with limited ammo, the monsters would outnumber them.

  An eight-foot hedge lined the perimeter. The only way around it was by going through it.

  Mitchell frantically shook his head. “No way am I going through there. It could eat us. We’d never make it through. We’d be trapped in the belly of a forest monster forever.”

  “Kid, it’s either that, or stand here in the woods naked and alone. Well, not exactly alone, there are about a dozen monsters to keep you company.” Derek crossed his arms, waiting. “So, what’ll it be?”

  Mitchell’s eyes darted around the forest. A branch snapped in the background, making the decision for him. The leaves rustled as the branches parted. Mitchell squeezed through first, followed by Jill. Derek took one last look around before entering.

  Derek stumbled, the sound of fabric ripping as he tugged his sleeve off a branch. The moon shone on an elephant, tiger, bear, and gorilla. Casting large shadows on the ground. A topiary garden. A cloud raced across the moon. Did the elephant just move?

  Mitchell stood hugging himself, his mouth open in a silent O. Jill rubbed her hands up and down the kid’s arms to warm him. “Did anyone else see the television remake of Stephen King’s The Shining?” Mitchell whispered.

  Derek was afraid to ask. “No. What of it?”

  Mitchell’s voice shook. “Well … In the miniseries, the topiary animals come to life and kill people.”

  Perfect. Just perfect. Don’t think bullets are going to work on a bunch of bushes. Derek looked back at the elephant—that was strangely closer than it was a moment ago. “You don’t think …”

  A lion’s deep roar rattled the hedge’s leaves. Of course, they should think the topiary was coming alive.

  “Run!” Derek yelled, getting really, really, really tired of having to give that command as he guided everyone in the opposite direction of the roar. The glow in the distance grew larger.

  “Do you smell that, brother?”

  “The stench of fear.”

  “Like mother’s milk.”

  Dear God. They even had speakers in the damn foliage. Talk about egotists.

  A sliver of moonlight spilt on the forest floor. The uneven earth slowed their pace, extra caution being taken for Jill’s and Mitchell’s lack of shoes. Jill cried out as her hand was wrenched out of Derek’s. Derek spun toward Jill, gun aimed, expecting another zombie.

  Sprawled on the ground, Jill clawed at a vine entwined around her ankle. Derek dropped to his knees. Tugging the knife out of his waistband, he hacked the vine in two. A squeal pierced the night.

  Mitchell stepped closer to Derek. His legs bumped into Derek’s back.

  “How bad is it?” Derek asked, gently probing the raw welt on Jill’s ankle.

  “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 ha
ve 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!”