WidowMaker (23 page)

Grasping each other’s hands, the brothers bowed their heads. A chant whispered from their lips. Each beat fed the size of their god. The wind whipped into a frenzy.

“I said,
now!
” Derek ordered.

Son of a … these guys had balls. Well, Derek would show them whose were bigger. Squeezing the trigger, a bullet tore into Jeremy’s leg. He collapsed on the ground, clutching his leg. Crying out in pain.

Horrified, Jason could do nothing but stare at Jeremy. “How? We’re supposed to be protected.”

“Guess your god’s having a hard day himself,” Derek said evenly. Leveling the gun at Jason, he shouted, “Now get down!”

Jason hesitated, unsure of what to do, now that his brother was injured. Eyeing Derek warily, Jason knelt and linked his hands behind his head.

“Help us, Lord of the Forest! Protect us!”

Bellowing its rage, the Druid turned its cloaked form on Jason and Jeremy. A thick cloud of gray smoke burst from the Druid’s cloak. The haze corkscrewed around the brothers.

“No!” screamed Jason and Jeremy, as their skin thickened and hardened. Branches and leaves sprouted out of their upraised arms and heads. The brothers’ faces were frozen into a wooden mask of terror.

Mitchell approached the brothers, flicking Jason’s arm with his finger. “Talk about sporting major wood.” Mitchell looked over his shoulder at Derek. “We seriously need to get out of here, though.”

Derek shook his head. The battle had just begun. Hopefully, with the link to the brothers gone, their god was weakened. “As long as Jill’s still in there, I’m not leaving without one hell of a fight.”

“Of course!” Mitchell exclaimed, clapping his hands. “Jill’s right! The altar is its weak spot! Destroy the stone, and I bet it can’t remain here physically.”

“But it’s solid granite,” Derek responded.

“Okay …” Mitchell held up his hands. “I didn’t say that I had all the kinks worked out of this plan.”

Derek studied the circle. Clumps of leaves and branches spiraled around him. There
had
to be a way to destroy the stone. Damn. They had nothing. The stone pillars were too heavy to knock into the altar. Bullets wouldn’t work. Wait a minute! Derek spotted a camera mounted to a light pole. Of course. The brothers documented everything. They wouldn’t want to miss their precious god being resurrected.

“On my signal, knock it toward the altar. We may not be able to destroy the stone, but if it’s the Druid’s weak spot, a strong jolt of electricity might drive it away.”

“Oh man!” Mitchell looked like he had been told to dive into the god’s cloak headfirst. “I don’t like the number of ‘ifs’ in this plan of yours. You do the pole. I’ll get the Green Giant’s attention.”

“Just do it,” Derek ordered. He placed his palm in the center of Mitchell’s back, pushing him toward the pole. “
I’ll
distract him.” The kid completely baffled Derek. He would rather go up against a Druid god than push a light pole over.

The Druid god slowly turned. Its branches snapped and popped with the movement. Derek could feel its unseen eyes drilling through his skull. Derek could see Mitchell slinking behind the god, headed for the pole. “There is no other place for you here! Release your sacrifices, and leave! Or … or I’ll burn this forest to the ground.”

“Now!” Derek yelled.

Out of the corner of his eye Derek could see Mitchell, his shoulder pressed to the pole like a scrawny-assed linebacker. Mitchell’s face flushed with the exertion.

A branch sprang out, coiling around Derek’s waist. He dug his feet into the soft ground, trying to anchor himself as the Druid dragged him toward the altar. The pressure increased around his waist, vacuuming the air from Derek’s lungs.

“Mitchell …” Derek groaned. It was a flimsy pole. The kid couldn’t be that weak.

“I told you I’d make a better distraction.”

Derek watched Mitchell retreat from the pole. What the hell was the kid doing? Derek struggled—clawing at the branch twined around him. Stars danced before Derek’s eyes as he strained to take a breath. He couldn’t pass out. If he did, they would all be dead.

Mitchell took a running leap at the pole. The force knocked the pole loose, careening into the altar. The light and camera smashed. Sparks of electricity skittered across the surface. The Druid’s body arched beneath the cloak. Jolts of electricity lifted it in the air. Derek’s teeth ground as the Druid jerked him around like a rag doll. A deafening crack cut through the air as the altar split in two. The altar’s jagged edges tipped toward the sky.

A thunderous howl burst from the Druid. The branch recoiled, and Derek’s body plummeted to the earth with a thump. Derek gasped, sucking in lungfuls of air. He felt like a jackhammer had been slammed into his chest. Mitchell’s cold hands slid under Derek’s shoulders, lifting him into a sitting position.

“Holy shit!” Mitchell stepped forward, inspecting the abandoned cloak on the altar. “You did it!” Mitchell hopped back as the cloak shifted. “Uh-oh … maybe not!”

Derek braced himself. His gun was long gone and out of bullets. A dirt-crusted hand broke through the leaves. Cecil clawed his way to the surface. His face was bloodied and bruised. Mitchell ran to him. Clasping Cecil’s arm, he guided him off the altar.

“Jill!” Derek screamed, tearing through the crackling leaves. Scattering them across the altar.

“Derek?”

Derek paused. His heart seized in his chest. Turning, he saw that Jill stood behind him. Her skirt was torn, and her hair was matted with twigs and dirt. Derek had never seen anyone so beautiful.

“Thank God!” Derek rushed to Jill, running his hands over her. Nothing looked broken, just bruised. “Are you okay?”

“I think so,” she said as her knee buckled. “But give me a minute before I give you a confirmation on that.”

Derek pulled Jill to him. Squeezing the air out of her. Jill wrapped her arms around Derek. Her fingers clutched at his jacket. “Don’t ever do that again!” Derek said fiercely.

Jill braced her hands on Derek’s chest, halting him. “You know, I heard you … when I was inside.” She flashed him a flirtatious smile. “So … you still love me?”

“Oh, that …” Love didn’t even begin to describe how Derek felt when he thought he had lost Jill a second time. Derek’s heart had seized in his chest. His will to live was eliminated. If he didn’t have Mitchell to protect, he would have sacrificed himself to save her. He winked at her before answering. “I was referring to Cecil.”

Jill punched Derek in the arm, and then planted her hands on her hips, pretending to be angry. “As your fiancée, I’m officially jealous.”

“Fiancée?” Derek acted surprised. “Who says I’ll ask you to marry me?” Thank God he still had the ring in his pocket. Derek’s stubbornness, for once, paid off.

“As I recall, you asked me already, and I said yes.”

“That was three years ago.” Derek cupped Jill’s cheek, his thumb swiping a smudge of dirt away.

“I’ll check with legal, but there’s no statute of limitations on proposals.” Jill’s arms threaded around Derek’s waist, tugging him closer. “You’re still stuck with me, buster.”

“No. That original proposal is definitely void.”

Jill’s face fell as she pulled away from Derek.

Grabbing her hand, Derek raised it to his lips and kissed her fingertips. Then he dropped to one knee and found the blue velvet box he had been carrying around with him for three years. Finally, he got to take it out. This time, permanently. He opened the box, resting it on his palm. A three-carat, princess-cut diamond winked up at Jill.

“I love you, Jill Connor, and want to spend the rest of my life with you. Minus the monsters, of course. Will you marry me?”

Tears slipped from between Jill’s lashes. Her hands trembled as she cradled Derek’s face.

“Yes,” she whispered, nodding. “I love you, too. I
never
stopped loving you.”

Derek slid the ring over Jill’s finger, content to see it back where it belonged. He rose to his feet and smiled, before letting his lips touch Jill’s. Hugging her tighter, he deepened the kiss.

“About time,” Mitchell mumbled. “For Christ’s sake! It only took a fifty-foot Druid god to make you two see the light.”

Yes, well, whatever works,
Derek thought as he hugged Jill close.

###

Afterword

Thank you so much for reading
Widowmaker
! We hope it made you laugh, cringe, and gasp. We are not responsible for any fear it may have instilled toward movie theaters.

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Widowmaker
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Widowmaker
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* * * * *

Want more from Cristyn West and Elena Gray?

Check out their short stories in the ultimate horror anthology,
The Evil Within
.

The hiss of hot breath coming from inside the coat closet.

The noxious odor of plastic smothering your face as you fight to breathe.

The nagging feeling that someone is watching your every move ... waiting.

Vengeance. Misplaced trust. Pure evil.

After reading these nine chilling tales, how many times will you soothe yourself in the dark, trying to convince yourself that “there are no monsters”?