Campfire

by Shawn Sarles

  A log cracked open in the fire, and Maddie jerked toward it. The flames danced before her eyes, filling her vision as she caught a whiff of the smoke. She shook her head and turned back toward Caleb. She had to find that knife. She had to free him.

  She knelt down in front of him, her hands scurrying across the ground, searching for the knife.

  “Where is it?” she muttered under her breath, losing her cool, growing more desperate and frustrated with each passing second.

  “It’s over there,” Caleb croaked. His voice surprised her. Maddie looked up, her nose only inches from his. Her gaze slid across his face, puffed up and crusted with blood now, the antlers vicious trenches dug into his forehead. Her breath caught in her chest as she saw the burn on his cheek, the waxy red patch of seared flesh. Her nose tingled and she swore she could smell it, the pungent odor of burnt skin. Her lungs seized up. Her vision tunneled and she was back in that parking lot five years ago.

  She couldn’t move. She was frozen to the spot. She couldn’t bend her arms or take a step. She couldn’t even blink. The fire burned so brightly in front of her.

  Her mom was in there. She was going to die if Maddie didn’t do something.

  Maddie willed herself to take a step forward. Then another. She was brave. She could do this.

  With a sickening crunch, she watched as the office roof caved in, as a swirling tornado of smoke and ash crashed into her, clawed up her nose and down her throat.

  She couldn’t breathe. She collapsed. She wanted to cry, but no tears came out. She wanted to scream for help but couldn’t make a sound. She felt weak and sleepy. This was all a bad dream. Maddie’s eyes blinked shut, and the world went black as she let her mother die.

  “Maddie!”

  Caleb’s voice shattered her nightmare.

  “Maddie, look at me.”

  She turned. She tried to look brave, but her bottom lip quivered nonetheless.

  “We’re not dead yet,” he said fiercely, still tied to the tree, still bleeding from his forehead.

  Maddie didn’t know what it was exactly, but something in Caleb’s voice gave her hope. He was right. Her mother and Charlie might be dead, but she and Chelsea and her dad and her aunt and cousin—even Abigail—they were all still alive. They could still survive.

  She wiped her eyes and pressed her lips together with determination.

  “Help me find the knife,” Maddie ordered. She took Chelsea’s hand and pulled her best friend down as the two scoured the ground.

  Maddie wasn’t going to let it happen again. She wasn’t going to let anyone else die, not without doing something. She was stronger now. She could save them. She could save all of them. Her fingers flitted back to Charlie’s hat, and she felt his spirit buoy her.

  “I know I dropped it somewhere over here.”

  “It’s there.” Caleb nodded.

  Maddie was closest and scooped it up. She tried to cut the rope, but it was harder than it looked. The blade was sharp, but the rope was tough and her hands kept slipping.

  “Almost there,” Maddie grunted in frustration as she sawed desperately at the rope. She just had to get through one cord and it’d all come loose.

  “AHHHHHHHH!”

  A banshee’s shriek cut through the night, the first noise in the last few minutes. It rattled around Maddie’s ribcage and down her arms, knocking the knife out of her hand once more.

  The scream was so loud. So close. Maddie looked toward the fire but saw only Julie there with Abigail and Bryan.

  Then she saw it. A hand appeared at the edge of their camp and clawed its way into the circle of light, the slender fingers madly digging into the dirt.

  Slowly a head followed. Dirt and blood matted her hair down, but Maddie would have recognized that blond helmet anywhere. She gasped as Kris crawled into the light, one of her eyes swollen shut, a nasty cut opening up her cheek.

  “Help—me,” Kris croaked. The effort of her last scream had shredded her vocal cords. She tried to say something else, but her voice failed her.

  The shock of the woman’s appearance wore off, and Maddie started forward but then stopped in her tracks. Her eyes grew big as a figure loomed up behind Kris. It bent down and yanked the woman’s head back. Kris didn’t even have time to turn and look at him as his knife flicked across her throat.

  Blood poured out of the cut, warm and wet. It splashed on the ground, gurgled in her lungs. Maddie watched as the woman convulsed a few times and then fell still, just like Caleb’s deer had.

  But Maddie didn’t have time to think about that as the killer calmly stepped over Kris’s body, confident as he looked at all of them, his face shrouded in a black ski mask. His knife moved through the air, landing on each of them as he took his time in picking out his next victim.

  As his knife reached Maddie, he stopped. But instead of coming after her, his fingers moved to his face. He peeled the ski mask off of his head, and Maddie gasped.

  Tommy? But he was dead.

  THIRTY-ONE

  THIS DIDN’T MAKE ANY SENSE. MADDIE stared at the killer’s face—Tommy’s face, his close-shaved head, his wicked little smile that had almost made her swoon just two nights before—and her brain couldn’t process it.

  She’d seen him dead. Seen his bloody body, his San Francisco T-shirt filled with holes, and soaked in red.

  But no, this was definitely him. And he’d definitely just killed Kris.

  “Miss me?” Tommy hadn’t taken his eyes off Maddie.

  “But you’re—you’re—” Maddie stuttered.

  “Not so dead after all.”

  “You bastard!” Abigail shrieked, surprising them all as she threw herself at Tommy.

  The fight only took him a second to handle, though, as he caught her balled-up fists neatly in his hands and tossed her aside like some rag doll. She fell to the ground but scrambled right up, lunging for him again.

  This time Tommy didn’t play nice. His knife flicked, a serpent’s devilish tongue, and Abigail yelped. She fell back clutching her stomach, watching in disbelief as blood seeped out of her, soaking her shirt and hands.

  “How could you?” Abigail mumbled as she gasped for air.

  “I’ve done a lot of things these past few days,” Tommy replied coyly. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

  “How—how—” Abigail started, but she could barely get it out. She was losing her strength fast. Her knees wavered underneath her and then she collapsed to the ground. But she didn’t lose her thought. “How could you murder your best friend?”

  “Jason?” Tommy asked, as if this had been last on the list of things Abigail could have meant. “That was easy. Not hard killing your best friend when you despise him.”

  “But—” Abigail’s last words died on her tongue as she sank the rest of the way to the ground. This seemed to shake Julie out of her paralysis, and she rushed forward to hold the girl.

  But it was too late. Abigail lay there, unmoving, and Maddie knew she wouldn’t be getting up again.

  Another broken promise. Another person Maddie couldn’t save.

  “Don’t look so sad. It doesn’t suit that pretty face of yours.”

  Maddie’s eyes snapped up and found Tommy’s. He was playing with them now. With her. But maybe she could use that. She couldn’t give in yet.

  “Should I be thanking you?” Maddie asked, her voice shaking as she tried to get him talking.

  “A little bit of recognition wouldn’t hurt,” Tommy replied. “You did hate her, after all.”

  Around the campfire, everyone—Bryan, Julie, and Chelsea—stood frozen. No one dared move, knowing that it’d mean Tommy’s knife if he caught them. They didn’t have anything to fight back with. Mark’s rifle lay useless near the fire, the last bullet shot up into the air hours ago.

  “I didn’t hate her,” Maddie said, her mind racing. She had a plan. She just had to get to Caleb’s knife and finish cutting him loose. It was their only hope.

  �
��Yes, you did. No use in lying about it now.”

  “But why?” Maddie tried to keep him distracted. “Why’d you kill so many people? What’d any of us ever do to you?”

  “Hmm…” Tommy smiled wide, like he might gobble Maddie up in one bite. This was it. Her chance. And Maddie wasn’t going to waste it. Not this time.

  She pounced, throwing herself to the ground and grabbing Caleb’s knife. She whirled back around and cut at the guide’s restraints. But Tommy was already there, moving lightning fast around the campfire, his hand on her shoulder, pulling her back.

  Maddie didn’t think. She used his strength against him and spun around. The knife flashed in her hand, sliced through the air, through clothes and flesh. Tommy yelped and Maddie pulled her arm back for another slash, but he grabbed her by the wrist. He squeezed and now she was the one wincing.

  “You’re quicker than I thought,” Tommy wheezed. “And more annoying.”

  He tightened his grip on her wrist and forced the knife out of Maddie’s hand.

  “You won’t be needing that anymore.”

  He tossed the knife into the dark woods. But Maddie hadn’t given up. Not yet. She dug her teeth into the back of Tommy’s hand. He let loose a volley of expletives as he tried to shake her off. When she wouldn’t budge, he smacked her across the face, knocking her away.

  “What’s going on?”

  Maddie’s heart leaped in her chest as her dad rushed back into the circle of light. Tommy hadn’t gotten him. Did that mean Dylan could still be alive, too?

  “It’s Tommy,” Maddie squealed out, pointing at him.

  Maddie’s dad looked at her with confusion. But then her words slowly started to sink in. He spotted Kris’s bloody body lying at the edge of the campfire. He saw the slap mark starting to bloom red across Maddie’s cheek, the knife in Tommy’s hand.

  “What the hell are you waiting for?” Caleb screamed as he strained at his ropes. “Get him.”

  “You bastard. Stay away from my daughter.”

  Maddie’s dad charged around the campfire and launched himself at Tommy. Maddie just barely managed to jump out of the way as the two collided and went rolling across the ground. Tommy lost his grip on his knife, and it bounced away toward the campfire.

  It wasn’t a fistfight like before with Caleb. Mitch and Tommy wrestled on the ground, a sloppy, frantic scuffle. Mitch had his arms wrapped around Tommy’s chest and squeezed him as tight as he could, but Tommy managed to get an arm free and pounded on the older man’s back.

  Eventually, Mitch had to let go. But he didn’t stop fighting. He couldn’t stop, not when his daughter’s life hung in the balance, too. Mitch head-butted Tommy and then sat on the teen’s stomach, pinning him to the ground.

  “Get—off—me!” Tommy shouted. He squirmed underneath Mitch’s weight.

  “You’re going to pay for what you did.” Mitch leaned down and hissed in Tommy’s face. “You’re not going to hurt anyone else—you—you—lunatic.”

  Tommy only smirked and then spit in the older man’s face. Mitch jolted back in surprise, which gave Tommy enough space to wiggle loose. He punched Maddie’s dad in the crotch, and Mitch howled fiercely, rolling off of the teenager.

  Both scrambled to their feet and were on each other again in a second. They grappled with each other, pushing and pulling, trying to knock the other to the ground. Tommy lunged for Mitch, but somehow Mitch managed to get out of the way in time. Tommy stumbled a few steps past him, and Mitch moved in from behind, taking Tommy under the arms and forcing him into a headlock. He had the upper hand, finally.

  Maddie watched the whole fight in amazement. In her head she rooted her dad on, just like he would have cheered for her at one of her races. She didn’t even know he knew how to fight. But he had Tommy where he wanted him now. The boy’s face started turning blue. They were saved.

  But just when Maddie thought it was all over, a crack shot through the night. Maddie’s dad started, and Tommy managed to get loose from his chokehold. He backed up quickly, retrieving his knife from the ground. He rubbed at his neck with his other hand, the color returning to his face, his wicked grin back.

  What was that? What was about to happen?

  A shuffling of approaching feet made its way to the campfire and everyone turned to look as a handgun appeared at the edge of their camp, followed by a second figure dressed in all black.

  Only this time, the man didn’t have a ski mask on. He had, however, also returned from the dead.

  “Charlie?” Maddie gasped under her breath.

  THIRTY-TWO

  THEY WERE SAVED. MADDIE COULDN’T HELP beaming. Not only had Charlie survived the attack from the night before, but he’d tracked them down. He’d come to rescue them. To rescue her.

  “Get him, Charlie,” Maddie shouted. She pointed her finger at Tommy and waited for her brother to turn his gun on the teenaged murderer. “He killed Kris. And Abigail, too.”

  But her brother didn’t respond. Instead, he surveyed them all, holding his gun level. Absolutely calm. As Maddie watched him closely, waiting for him to leap into action, a dangerous gleam crossed into his eyes. Only then did Maddie stop to think.

  Where had Charlie gotten a change of clothes? Hell, where had he gotten a handgun? Why hadn’t he turned and shot Tommy already? Why wasn’t he saving them?

  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you, Maddie,” Charlie said coolly. “I’m not here to save you.”

  The pieces clicked in Maddie’s head. It all became clear.

  There were two of them. Two murderers.

  And Charlie—Charlie was one of them.

  Maddie couldn’t believe it. All her courage evaporated in that second of realization. She shrank back into herself. She’d thought she could be brave, fearless like she’d always imagined her mother had been. She’d thought she could save them all.

  But this—Charlie—a murderer. It was more than she could handle.

  She backed away until she felt a tree against her back. She let her legs go and sank to the ground. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t move. She could only watch and listen as the world broke apart around her.

  “But—but—you’re dead—someone attacked you—last night,” Mitch sputtered, trying to put everything together. “Maddie saw you die.”

  “It’s amazing what you can get away with on a dark night,” Charlie said. He lifted his shirt and angled his torso to the side to show that there was no wound on his back where Maddie had seen him get stabbed. “The same stuff we used for Mark’s tent. Looks real, doesn’t it?”

  “I—I—I don’t understand.”

  “Look at him,” Tommy quipped. “I think his head’s going to explode. He can’t process that his son’s a murderer.”

  “What father could?” Maddie’s dad snapped. He turned back to his son. “Charlie, this isn’t you. You didn’t do this. You didn’t kill Mark and Ed and those boys.”

  Charlie stared down the sight of the handgun. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. No one else moved, either, the teen killers holding court, their weapons drawn and ready to strike down anyone who so much as coughed.

  “Don’t forget Dylan,” Charlie smirked, nodding back toward the woods. “To think, she wanted to break up with me. What a silly girl.”

  The coldness in Charlie’s voice told the whole story. Mitch’s face cracked down the middle. It broke open like a shattered mirror.

  “And I’m not done yet.”

  Charlie’s handgun swept around the campfire and came to rest on Julie.

  “No!” Bryan yelled, leaping in front of his mother, throwing his arms out to protect her.

  “Move out of the way, Bryan,” Charlie said testily. “She deserves this.”

  “She doesn’t.”

  “She abandoned you!” Charlie shouted. “For so many years. She let your dad rule over you. Let him beat you. How many times did you wake up with bruises? A busted lip? A ringing in your ear that wouldn’t go away
?”

  Maddie could see her cousin struggling with each of Charlie’s words.

  Was it true? Maddie knew Uncle Ed had been tough on his son, but had he really beat him? Had it really been that bad?

  “Now’s your chance,” Charlie said, quieter, talking solely to Bryan. “You can right his wrongs. Get even. Join us. All you have to do is move aside.”

  Bryan raised his head and his round glasses caught the light, winking across the campfire at Maddie. And she remembered.

  It was the same flash of light as when they’d first set up the tents. And then again in the woods when she’d stumbled across Mark and Julie having sex.

  So he’d seen it all, too. He’d known about the affair.

  “Move out of the way,” Charlie repeated himself, “and we’ll let you live.”

  Bryan stood there, frozen, his glasses hiding his eyes in a sheen of white light. His feet shuffled underneath him, and then his head dipped. His shoulders fell solemnly, decisively.

  “No,” Bryan muttered, raising his arms back up.

  “You don’t owe her this,” Charlie said in disgust. “She let it happen. She let your dad beat you. She could have left. She could have gotten help. But instead, she ran into Mark’s arms? She’s a slut. And a terrible mother. She doesn’t deserve to live. Now move out of the way.”

  Bryan’s arms shook but he held his ground.

  “Please,” Bryan whimpered. “Please don’t do this.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  And Charlie fired.

  Bryan groaned. Blood gurgled from his mouth, and then he collapsed. Julie wailed and scrambled toward him, pulling his head into her lap. She ran her fingers through his dark hair. His round glasses caught the firelight and winked one last time.

  “And now it’s time for you to join your husband.” Charlie spit the words at his aunt’s feet. He lifted the handgun again and fired. Julie’s crying cut out suddenly as she slumped over, her forehead coming to rest against her son’s. Charlie didn’t seem a bit moved, though.