by Ray Garton
A Bugs Bunny cartoon came on the big screen. Rodney and Heidi laughed at the rabbit’s antics as they ate. After that, an advertisement for the snack bar came on, with dancing drinks and singing buckets of popcorn frolicking across the screen.
“I’m full,” Rodney said.
“Me, too,” Heidi said.
“You only had one piece.”
“It doesn’t take much to satisfy me. How many did you have?”
“Four.”
“I guess it takes more to satisfy you. I’ll have to keep that in mind.” She bobbed one eyebrow suggestively, then laughed. She closed the lid on the pizza box and put it on the floorboard.
Rodney reached into the back seat and grabbed the pillow there, held it up between them, and said, “I brought our pillow along.” He placed it between the seat backs. “Unless you’d rather get in the back seat.”
“No, the back seat’s got that big hump in the middle,” she said. “This is fine.”
They moved both their seats all the way back, then reclined in them. They kissed for a while, then looked up when the movie started.
“We don’t have to watch if you don’t want,” Rodney said.
“No, I don’t mind,” she said. “You wanna see this movie, right?”
“Hey, if I have to choose between you and a movie, the movie loses. Every time.” They kissed again, moving their hands over each other’s bodies.
A few minutes later, she gently pulled away and took a deep breath. “Oh, look,” she said, pointing at the screen. “Bare titties.”
Rodney lifted his head.
A woman wearing only panties ran through an old, creepy hotel. She ducked into a room, closed the door and locked it.
Rodney had read about the movie in Fangoria magazine and knew the basic plot. Of course, when it came to plot, one slasher movie kind of blurred into all the others. There was little chance of being surprised. Rodney didn’t expect it to be any good – very few body-count films were. But then, he didn’t plan on watching it.
“The killer’s somewhere in the room with her,” Heidi whispered. “I can tell by the creepy music.”
The girl turned and the music came up as a black-gloved hand plunged a knife deep into her left eye in close-up.
Heidi screamed and buried her face in Rodney’s shoulder. “Oh, it’s gory, too. I hate gory movies.”
“What’d you expect from something called Thrill Killer?” Rodney said with a smile. He turned her face up and kissed her again. “By the way, the only bare titties I’m interested in are yours.”
“You’re a boob man, huh?”
“Yep.” He lifted her sweater, put his face between her braless breasts, and squeezed them together. Heidi laughed as he locked his lips over her sternum and blew air noisily.
Rodney lost track of time as they lay there holding each other and kissing. The movie’s soundtrack played on the radio but was nothing more than white noise to him. He slipped his hand beneath her sweater, exhilarated by the feel of her skin, so warm and smooth and pleasing to the touch.
A horn honked near the front of the theater lot.
Heidi lifted her arms and took the sweater off over her head. Rodney put his mouth on her right breast, sucked on her nipple, ran his tongue over it.
Another horn honked in a different part of the lot. Then another. And another.
Rodney lifted his head and looked to the front of the lot. He saw nothing out of the ordinary and started to turn back to Heidi, but he did a double-take.
“Oh, my god,” he said as he stared at the screen. He sat up and hit the lever to bring the seat upright again.
Heidi did the same. “What?” she said.
“Look at the screen,” he said. “It’s on the screen. I thought it was supposed to be dead.”
The spider crawled across the screen in a zigzag pattern. The movie was projected onto the spider’s back as it scurried over the screen, casting a dark shadow just beneath it.
“Oh, my God,” Rodney said. “There’s more than one.”
Thirty-Eight
The spider crawled over the face of the actress onscreen, turned around and crawled back a bit. Then it turned around again, went to the end of the screen and crawled around to the back, where it disappeared from sight.
Rodney felt a growing sense of panic. He looked around the lot a moment until his gaze fell on the small cinder block building in the center – the snack bar. He needed a phone. He started the car, pulled out of the slot, and turned right. He drove between two long humps of pavement and went to the snack bar. He pulled up directly in front of its door.
“You stay here,” Rodney said. “I’m going in there to call the sheriff.”
He got out of the car and went into the snack bar.
It was a dreary place. One of the fluorescent bars of light overhead flickered annoyingly. The tile floor was filthy. The counter and candy display case were painted a bright, festive orange, but the walls were a dull and faded yellow.
Rodney went to the counter. There was no one on the other side. Behind the counter was an open door. He waited.
A skinny young man in his early twenties came out of the open doorway. He was pale with shaggy black hair and a little tuft of whiskers between his lower lip and chin.
“What can I get for you?” he said.
“I need to use your phone,” Rodney said. He saw the phone beside the cash register.
“What’s this for?” the guy said.
“It’s an emergency, can I use it?”
“There’s a payphone out by the – “
”I don’t have any change!” Rodney said with urgency. “I have to make a call right now.”
“Is it local?”
“Yes, it’s local.”
The guy nodded toward the phone. “Okay, go ahead, but make it quick. What’s the emergency?”
“A giant spider.” Rodney picked up the phone and punched in nine-one-one.
The guy on the other side of the counter nodded without expression. “Came out of a flying saucer, I suppose?”
Rodney ignored him.
“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?” the female voice said on the line.
“Listen, I’m at the NightLight Drive-In, and there’s a spider here. I just saw it crawl across the screen. This is Rodney Lepke – tell Sheriff Harker who I am. And get somebody over here right away. I’m at the snack bar now, but I don’t think I’m going to stick around.”
Rodney hung up the phone and turned to the shaggy guy who stood staring at Rodney agape on the other side of the counter.
“Are you serious?” the guy said.
“Yes. I’m getting the hell out of here.” Rodney turned and went back to his car. Once at the wheel, he made a U-turn and headed for the front gate.
Thirty-Nine
“Two-oh-six, two-oh-six, I received a call from a Rodney Lepke. He says it’s at the NightLight Drive-in Theater. It crawled across the screen. Lepke says he’s at the snack bar.”
Harker grabbed the radio’s microphone as he drove along Magnolia Street, watchful and slow. “I’m on my way,” he said. “All units, meet me at the NightLight Drive-in Theater, all units.”
He flipped on the siren and lights and pressed his foot down on the accelerator.
Forty
The spider crawled across the back of the movie screen, then dropped to the ground again. It scurried along the western fence, a tall, brown, wooden fence that stood about eight feet tall. It would have been no problem to go over the fence, but the spider chose to skitter alongside it instead.
The ends of its legs thumped the ground firmly with every step.
It moved away from the fence and crawled over a car. Someone inside screamed as the spider went off the rear of the car, and then crawled onto the hood of the next car in the row, a Ford Taurus.
The driver’s side door opened and a young man got out, saying, “What the fuck?”
By the time the young man looked to see who or
what was on the roof of the car, the spider had gotten off the car in back. It came around the corner of the car and reared up at him. Only in those last seconds did the man cry out. The cry was cut short when the creature sank its top fang into his chest, shattering through his ribs, and its bottom fangs into his lower abdomen.
It ate for a little while, loudly and wetly, ignoring the screams that rose around it. It left its food behind half-eaten and went along the wall again toward the gate. It stopped at the gate and turned to a Toyota Camry on its way out.
Forty-One
“Oh, shit!” Rodney shouted as Heidi screamed.
The spider started to climb up onto the hood of the car.
Rodney put the car in reverse and hit the gas. As he backed up, the spider slid off the hood and onto the ground.
“Son of a bitch,” Rodney said as he backed up further, then stopped. He turned right and headed back to the snack bar. He kept looking in his rearview mirror, but the spider did not follow.
He heard the sirens in the distance, rapidly getting closer.
“What’re we gonna do?” Heidi said.
Rodney reached over and took her hand. “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine. We won’t get out of the car.” As he parked in front of the snack bar again, he wished he had a gun, or even a club, something.
Blue and red lights pulsed in his rearview mirror, and he saw a patrol car heading toward him. It pulled up beside him and Rodney and Sheriff Harker rolled down their windows.
“When did you see it last?” Harker said.
“Just a minute ago at the gate,” Rodney said. “It jumped on the car, but I shook it off.”
“Did you see it leave the lot?”
“I don’t know if it left or not.”
“Damn,” Harker muttered. He put his radio mic to his mouth and said, “All units, set up a perimeter around the drive-in theater, and watch out for it. It’s still here somewhere. Inside or outside, I’m not sure. But I want a perimeter around the theater, and if you see it, kill it.” He put the microphone back on its rack. “You going to stick around, Rodney?”
“I’m afraid to move,” Rodney said, and he meant it. He was afraid to stay because of the spider, and he was afraid to try to leave, again because of the spider.
“You might want to go into the snack bar and close the door until I tell you it’s safe,” Harker said.
Rodney nodded. “We’ll think about it.”
Harker killed the engine, took the shotgun from between the seats, and got out of his cruiser. He went into the snack bar.
Rodney turned to Heidi and said, “You wanna go into the snack bar and wait for them to kill it?” He jerked his head back toward the gate and said, “Or would you rather try to make a run for it?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “What do you think?”
“Well ... “ He thought about it a moment. “There’s liable to be shooting out here. And I’d rather not try to drive out of here and run into that thing again.”
“I agree,” she said. “Let’s go inside.”
Rodney opened the door and got out, went around the front of the car and joined Heidi at the open doorway to the snack bar. He nodded for her to go in first, then followed.
Harker turned to them when they entered. The door opened inward and was propped against the wall inside with a rock the size of a football. Harker kicked the rock aside and closed the old wooden door. Posters for smoothies, curly-fries and Coca Cola decorated the walls on both sides.
“Hey, what’re you doing?” the guy behind the counter said.
“I’m closing the door.” He turned to the thin, pale guy by the register. “There’s a spider out there the size of a Hyundai, and believe me, you do not want it to come in here. If it does, you’re dead. I don’t suppose you’ve got a gun in here, do you?”
The guy shook his head. “All I got is this,” he said as he produced an aluminum baseball bat from behind the counter.
Rodney turned to Heidi and she stepped in close. He put his arms around her and they both turned to Sheriff Harker.
Harker said to the shaggy guy at the counter, “Stop the movie and make an announcement. Tell everyone to get into their cars, roll up their windows, and leave the theater immediately.”
“You want me to tell people to leave the theater?” Shaggy said. “You know how much trouble I’d get into for that?”
“You’ve got to. Those people are a buffet out there,” Rodney said.
“Are you serious about this ... spider?” he said.
“Very serious,” Harker said. “Evacuate the theater now.”
“Dude,” Rodney said, “I’ve seen the spider. I’m dead serious. Make the announcement or a lot of people are going to die. You want that to happen on your watch? What would the boss think if you let a bunch of people die in the theater?”
Shaggy thought about that for a moment, frowning as he chewed on his thumbnail. Finally, he nodded once and said, “Okay. I’ll be right back.”
He came out from behind the counter, walked across the snack bar to a door, and went through it.
“All right,” Harker said, “I’m going out there. Stay in here till I come back.”
He opened the door and walked out.
Rodney pulled away from Heidi, went to the open doorway, and looked outside. He could hear the ghostly sound of the movie’s soundtrack coming from scores of car radios through rolled-down windows. Then it stopped, as did the movie on the screen, which went white. Silence fell over the drive-in for a moment. Then Rodney heard the announcement. It wasn’t the counter guy’s voice, it was someone older.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we ask that you get in your cars, roll up your windows, and leave the theater in an orderly fashion immediately. This is an emergency, and we are evacuating the theater. Please drive out in an orderly fashion. Thank you.”
While the announcement was being made, the counter guy came back in, still holding the bat, but he said nothing.
Rodney and Heidi went over to the counter and leaned their hips on it. He took her hand and squeezed it. They waited.
Forty-Two
Marty Koenig hurried from his car to the small playground set up next to the snack bar. He hadn’t been crazy about bringing their seven-year-old boy to a movie called Thrill Killer, but their babysitter had backed out on them at the last minute, so it was either bring little Danny along, or stay home. He and his wife Cathy had needed a night out, and they both liked scary movies. They figured Danny would pay no attention to the screen as long as he was playing in the playground with other kids.
Marty had no idea why it might be necessary to evacuate the drive-in theater, but the use of the word made him very nervous. He automatically thought of terrorists, and dirty bombs, and radiation sickness.
There were a couple tall lights shining over the playground, and Marty did not understand what he was seeing.
There were about half a dozen, maybe eight kids on the playground, but they were all lying on the ground.
Marty broke into a jog and closed the gap between himself and the playground. He stopped and looked down at the small bodies, and tried to process what lay before him.
One of the boys was missing a leg, which lay a few feet away. Another lay beside his severed arm. One child was on her back, clothes torn, abdomen ripped wide open. They were bloody and lifeless, the children, and Marty found himself whimpering as he looked for Danny’s familiar green sweater.
There he was, right over there by the foot of the slide.
“Oh, Jesus, Danny, oh, Jesus,” he whimpered as he went over to his son.
Danny lay face down on the gravel. Marty bent down and gently clasped Danny’s forearm and rolled him over onto his back.
The boy’s head did not move when the body rolled – it stayed where it was, face-down, the neck bloody and jagged.
Marty screamed then. It was high and sounded like a woman’s scream. He dropped to his knees and his scream became wailing sobs.
&nb
sp; Footsteps approached and he looked up to see Sheriff Harker. He recognized him because he’d seen him on the local news so many times. He had a shotgun tucked under his right arm.
“You okay?” Harker asked.
Marty shook his head and groaned, “No. No no no, I’m not okay.”
Harker scanned the small playground and said, “Oh, fuck.”
Forty-Three
Gary Boyle guzzled beer and smoked one cigarette after another as he watched Thrill Killer with his friends. He was with Ollie Peabo and Matt Parker in the back of Matt’s pick-up truck. Gary liked the smell of the popcorn from the snack bar and thought he’d probably get up and go get some pretty soon, but for now, he was content to stay put and watch the movie and drink beer.
They had graduated last year, but sometimes they still hung around the high school at the end of the day to talk to girls. Ollie looked the oldest – he was the oldest, having been held back two years in school – and had bought the beer. They went to a small liquor store in Newbury where a doddering old man ran the register in the evenings. He hardly looked at his customers as he sold them liquor, and he’d paid no attention to Ollie as he sold him a twelve-pack.
They had a boombox in the truck bed with them and listened to the movie on it as they drank their beer. They cheered on the movie’s nudity and killings.
Somewhere in the drive-in, someone screamed.
Ollie laughed and said, “Somebody’s gettin’ off.”
Matt pointed at the topless woman on the screen and said, “That girl’s got tits just like Maryanne Trent.”
“You never seen Maryanne Trent’s tits,” Gary said with a chuckle.
“Wanna bet?” Matt said. “Winter Festival, in the ball closets in the gym.”
“You’re so fulla shit,” Ollie said.
“I am not!” Matt said. “She’s got them really big ... whattaya call ‘em? Oreos? Oreolas? Somethin’ like that.”