WidowMaker (21 page)

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.

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.”

“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

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.