Gauntlet

Gauntlet


         Rhonda was ready to kill her brother. She loved him dearly, but the entire trip in the car Kyle was facedown in his cell phone texting whichever girlfriend he had decided was “The One” this week. He didn’t even have the courtesy to silence the damn thing. For twenty minutes she had been plagued with a seeming non-stop barrage of annoying beeps and tones.
Had they been able to take Dad’s car, she would have at least had a working radio to drown out the noise. He was on business in Florida, so she was stuck with their mother’s ancient Ford.
The car had only the basest of functions, and even that was giving it some credit. It was a miracle every time the engine turned over, and the frame seemed to be hanging on by threads of rust. Her mother had refused to buy a new one, despite the fact she and dad made enough money to have bought one cash out the door. It was the first car her mother bought with her own money and, for reasons purely sentimental, preferred to dump vast quantities of money into keeping it running. Rhonda was embarrassed every time she had to be seen in public behind the wheel of it.
         Kyle’s phone toned in another received message. Rhonda had a pleasant image of the phone flying out of the window with her younger brother following soon after. The thought brought a smile to her face. On the side of the road ahead there was a sign. In the dark it would have been almost impossible to see if she hadn’t had the car’s brights on. The sign was hand painted on a ragged chunk of plywood spiked into the ground.

Dark Wind Woods
One mile ahead on right

         “We’re almost there, d’ya think you can turn the damned phone off, now?”
         She was still focusing on the road, so Rhonda didn’t notice the annoyed look on Kyle’s face. The tone of his voice gave it away.
         “Sure, whatever.” He rapidly thumbed the keys of his phone, telling his girlfriend good-bye, and then shut the phone down. “Looks like I’m going to lose the signal anyway.”
         She looked over at him and rolled her eyes. Rhonda loved him, but he had become such a pain ever since the school year had started. Before he started high school, Kyle would hardly have been noticed by anyone. Normal dress, usually kept to himself, and a small circle of friends. Almost overnight he spiked his hair, donned dark clothes which had enough chains to set a metal detector off from a mile away, and developed an attitude that would have made Marilyn Manson blush. Then there was the endless stream of girls blowing up his cell phone.
It was hard to believe her little dork of a brother was now this strange person beside her. She knew a lot of kids changed when they entered high school, but this was something she never expected. Before, she could talk to him about almost anything, now their conversations had been reduced to one or two sentences usually ending in “whatever”.
          Her mother must have noticed the change. She was the one who insisted on Kyle tagging along to the haunted attraction. Both Rhonda and Kyle had vehemently protested –Rhonda because her brother was such a nuisance, and Kyle because it wouldn’t be “cool” to hang with his older sister– but their mother had sweetened the deal with threats of groundation for the both of them. Rhonda was just glad that her friends were going to meet them there. It would make the evening a little more tolerable.
         The car’s headlights illuminated yet another plywood sign, this one larger and with a wooden arrow pointing to the right with the word “parking” painted on it. She looked at the clock on the dash and saw it was half past ten. She hoped Charles and Brenna were already there waiting. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was sit and wait in the car with her brother.
         As she turned at the sign she heard the tell-tale ‘bleep’ of Kyle’s cell.
         “Yep, lost the signal. Where the hell are we, anyway?”
         “Some place called North Lawrence.”
         “Never heard of it.”
         Neither had Rhonda. Even after Charles had told her how to get here she still had to go to Map Quest on the computer. The place was located away from the center of town. “Hick country” is what her dad would have called it. There wasn’t a house to be seen anywhere for at least two miles and there was almost no traffic. There were no lights for the parking area as Rhonda turned the car, but her headlights provided enough light so she could see there was only one car parked in front of what looked to be a very old wood frame garage. She breathed a sigh of relief as she pulled in behind the other car to see Charles and Brenna step out from his Plymouth Neon and wave a greeting.
         As Rhonda parked the car and shut the engine down, she looked over at Kyle.
         “Remember what mom said. Stay close and don’t wander off.” She paused and then added, “and don’t embarrass me.”
         Kyle threw her a mocking frown as he opened his door.
         “Okay, mom, I won’t embarrass you.”
         Before Rhonda could retort, Charles popped her door open and leaned in.
         “I was beginning to wonder if you got lost.”
         “Well, you know how men are, Kyle wouldn’t let me stop and ask for directions.” She quipped as Charles held out his hand to help her out of the car.
         Her mother always liked Charles. “A rare product of the old school” is what she called him. He was always neatly dressed, opened doors for the ladies, never swore, and spoke with a genuine respect toward anyone who could be considered his ‘elder’. Among his friends he was a little more open and relaxed. 
         Rhonda looked over to Brenna and smiled warmly. She returned the smile, but only half-heartedly. She didn’t look very pleased to be here. She was wearing a heavy coat with a fur lining, even though the temperature was just barely under sixty– fairly pleasant for an October night. Rhonda was quite comfortable in just her sweater. Brenna had her long, brown hair tied up in pig-tails making her look like she was four instead of seventeen. She was nervously glancing at the garage as though it were about to come alive at any second and cut her into tiny bits.
         Kyle was already heading to the garage and nearly made it to the door when Charles called out to him.
         “Hey, Kyle! Wait up, Buddy!”
         Kyle stopped short and shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather coat.
         “Sure thing, pal.” He said sarcastically.
         “Boy, isn’t he the charmer?” Brenna said
         “You don’t know the half of it,” Rhonda sighed.
         Charles shrugged his shoulders. “My older brother did the same thing when he was in high school. Drove my parents crazy.”
         “My parents aren’t the ones going crazy.”
         The three of them stood for a moment to look at the garage. Beyond the dilapidated structure was a thick forest of trees which were mostly devoid of leaves. There was a mild breeze making the branches sway lazily. Though it was nearly a full moon, thick clouds obscured its view. They could hear music coming from the garage, but the sound was muffled and hard to make out.
         “Are you sure they’re still open?” Brenna looked around at the grass parking area. “It doesn’t look like anyone else is here. “
         “The website said they were open until eleven.” Charles checked his watch, “It’s fifteen ‘til right now.”
         “They could have closed early.” There was a hopeful tone to Brenna’s voice.
         “Well, let’s go find out.” He started off to the garage.
         “Really hate these places.”
         Rhonda put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “They’re just people in masks. They can’t hurt you.”
         “My mother said she went to a haunted house when she was younger and one of the guys there grabbed her from behind and wouldn’t let her go.”
         “They can’t do that anymore, Brenna, it’s against the law. The most they are allowed to do is jump out and scream at you.”
         “I don’t know,” Brenna said ruefully, “I think I’ll be the one doing all the screaming.”
         Rhonda took her by the arm and they started toward the garage.



         As the four of them walked into the garage the music became clearer. It was standard Halloween soundtrack fanfare. Cheap eerie organ music punctuated with scary sound effects and a woman occasionally screaming. The whole place was lit by candles and old oil lanterns. The dim light illuminated various decorations around the garage. There was an old wooden coffin with a skeleton hand sticking out from under the lid propped up in the corner. There were various rubber masks hung on the walls around the room, some having been splattered with fake blood for added effect. From the ceiling hung a mannequin dolled up in a wig and an old Victorian dress dangling from the end of a noose.
         “This looks cheesy.” Kyle snorted.
         Charles shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno, I kinda like it. Kinda has that old-fashioned feel to it.”
         At the opposite end of the garage was a very old desk with black lace curtained around it that was hung from the ceiling. Seated at the desk was a woman in a heavy black dress. Her face was covered in a thick layer of the same black lace. It was hard to tell if she was real or just another display. There was a small sign on the desk which declared the price of admission to be ten dollars per person.
         Charles approached the desk with the girls tagging close behind. Kyle wandered off to get a closer inspection of the coffin.
         The woman behind the desk did not move as they stepped up. Charles leaned in and smiled broadly. He was clearly enjoying himself.
         “Hallo! Are you the proprietor of this foine establishment?” His voice took on a poorly rendered British accent, which earned him an elbow to the ribs by Brenna.
         “Don’t be a goof!”
         The woman in black raised her left arm and a skeletal hand appeared from the sleeve of the dress. She gestured with the hand to the admission sign on the desk and waited in silence, palm held up expectantly.
         “This is so cool!” Charles reached into his back pocket for his wallet.
         Rhonda dug into her coat pocket and pulled out a fist-full of fives and ones. She started to count through them but Charles gestured for her to stop.
         “It’s okay, I’ve got it.”
         “You sure?”
         “Yeah! I invited you to come along. My treat.” He dropped two twenties into the woman’s hand. The bones curled around the money and slid back into the sleeve of the dress, evoking an amused chuckle from Charles.
         The woman raised her other arm, revealing another skeleton hand, this one with its index finger extended. She was pointing to a small man-sized door they hadn’t noticed when they first walked in. Kyle, who had finished checking out the decorations, rejoined the others and scoffed at the sight of the woman.
         “Well, isn’t that lame.”
         Rhonda shot him a glance that told him to knock it off and then turned to follow Charles and Brenna, who were already approaching the door.
         The door was nothing out of the ordinary, plain wood, just as old and splintered as the rest of the building. It was decorated with a single declaration was painted in dripping blood:


          God will not save you here!
                                                                                       
         
         Charles Laughed at this and reached out for the door handle. Just as he started to pull there was the sound of a chainsaw firing up followed closely by a woman screaming in stark terror. All four of them nearly jumped out of their skins. It sounded like it was very close. It all lasted for about ten seconds; the high-pitched scream of the chainsaw rivaled only by the woman’s panicked screams. Then it stopped as abruptly as it had started.
         Charles face had a wide grin. “This is going to be fun!”
         As he pulled the door open, Rhonda felt Brenna slide her hand into her own and squeeze painfully tight.
         “Why did it have to be a chainsaw?” Her voice was quivering. “I hate chainsaws!”
         On the other side of the door was a small, open field that ended right at the edge of the woods. In the middle of the field was a campfire beside which was a bench lined with old oil-burning lanterns. Spiked into the ground next to this was a sign reading “Take One”.
         Charles walked over, picked one up and lit it using one of the smoldering twigs from the fire.
         “Isn’t that a little dangerous?” Rhonda asked. “What if someone dropped one of those? They could set the whole forest on fire.”
         “Nah! They have rules and regulations they have to follow. Safety precautions and things like that.” He tossed the twig back onto the fire. “They probably have fire extinguishers set up around the trail just in case.”
         He held the lantern up and looked around. “Well, they definitely came up a good name for the place. It’s really dark.”
         Brenna, who still hadn’t released her death-grip on Rhonda’s hand, pointed off to Charles’ left. “I think that’s where we go in.”
         There was a shoddily-constructed wooden gate erected between two trees over which hung a sign that read: “Enter”.
         “Really? Y’think?” Kyle quipped. He turned and walked toward the gate before Brenna could respond.
         “He’s such a dick, lately.” She whispered to Rhonda.
         “Yeah.” She agreed. “Try living with him.”



         Charles was right, the woods were totally dark, the only light coming from the lantern he held above his head. The lantern revealed a path through the trees beyond the gate, but the most they could see was about fifteen feet ahead of them. Fireflies occasionally leapt into the air and flared briefly and it sounded like a whole army of crickets were trying to fill the night air with their off-key chirps.
         The path ran for only a few feet into the woods before turning sharply to the left.  As Charles was the only one holding a lantern, he took the lead with Brenna close at his side. She clutched his arm and gave Rhonda the impression of a mouse trapped in a room full of cats.
         “I don’t think I can do this,” Brenna whined. “Can we go back?”
         “It’s too late, we’ve already paid,” Charles said. “They have a no refund policy.”
         Rhonda couldn’t recall seeing any sign in the garage confirming Charles’ claim, but decided to keep her mouth shut rather than lend ammo to Brenna’s side of the issue.
         As they rounded the left-hand corner, a man in a welder’s mask suddenly popped out of the ground, burying a pick-axe into the ground next to their feet. From behind the mask could be heard deep, heavy breathing, making him sound like Darth Vader making an obscene phone call.
         Brenna screamed and tried her best to scramble onto Charles’ back, making him almost drop the lantern. He was laughing and trying to get Brenna off him at the same time.
         Kyle stepped toward the man in the welder’s mask, putting his face up to the small red visor. He began to match the deep, hollow breathing, while sporting a goofy look on his face.
         “Kyle, knock it off!” Rhonda chided her brother. She hadn’t been scarred by the man coming up out of the ground, but she had jumped a little. She didn’t think it was scary enough to justify Brenna’s hysterics, though.
         The man in the mask slowly withdrew back into the ground and away from Kyle’s childish mockery, pulling a large piece of sheet metal over the hole he was hiding in. Brenna seemed to calm down a bit when the man was finally out of sight.
         “Okay! That’s enough! I want to go now!”
         “Oh, come on Bren,” Charles said. “You’re being stupid! I was right, wasn’t I? All he did was jump out and scare you. He didn’t try and grab any of us. They aren’t allowed, remember?”
         Brenna crossed her arms and glared at Charles. She looked unconvinced about his being right about anything at this point. Charles wrapped his arm around her waist and gave her a comforting hug.
         “Let’s go for a couple more minutes and if it’s too much for you, we’ll go.”
         “Promise?”
         Charles held three fingers up in the air. “Scout’s honor.”
         Kyle scoffed at this. “Yeah, like you were ever a Boy Scout.”
         “Cub Scout, actually,” Charles replied. “I dropped out before I got any higher. Let’s keep moving.”
         Charles, still in the lead with the lamp held high, continued along the path until it took a turn to the right. Rhonda began to shiver. It felt like the air was getting colder and she regretted leaving her coat at home.
         Rounding the bend, they found the path was lined on both sides with a row of spikes. On each spike was impaled a human head. The heads were all in various states of decay, each sharing a horrified expression. The faces all stared at them, forever locked in silent screams.
         “Now this is cool!” Kyle began a closer examination of the display.
         “I’m glad you think so,” Brenna whined. “I think it’s gross!”
         All of them except Kyle continued on. Rhonda’s brother was still busy scrutinizing the impaled heads. When she realized he was falling behind she called out to him.
         “Come on, Kyle. Stick with the group.”
         Kyle was almost nose-to-nose with one of the heads, trying to make out the details of it in the dark. “Tell Charles to bring the lamp back here. You gotta see this! This one looks like—“
         Brenna let loose another of her glass-shattering screams. Rhonda looked back just in time to see someone dressed in white –a robe or dress, she couldn’t tell– dragging Brenna off the trail and deeper into the woods.
         Charles was laying on his back on the ground, the lantern a couple of feet away from him. He was slowly getting up, rubbing the back of his head as he did.
         Rhonda ran over to him and helped him to his feet. “What happened?”
         “I don’t know.” Charles pulled his hand away from his head, revealing fresh blood on his fingers. “Someone jumped out at us and smacked me pretty hard. Where’s Brenna?”
         Rhonda looked in the direction Brenna had been taken. The trees were too thick and it was too dark to see anything. Kyle was now standing beside her, looking at the trees as well.
         “You think this is part of the act?”
         “No,” Rhonda answered her brother. “I don’t think so. At least, I hope it is.”
         Charles had recovered the lantern and directed it at the trees. The light didn’t help reveal any trace of Brenna and none of them could hear her screams any more.
         “We should go after her,” Charles said. He looked angry. “If this is some kind of joke, it’s not funny. They aren’t supposed to touch people!”
         Rhonda was still scanning the woods, hoping to catch some glimpse of Brenna or whoever grabbed her. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to go out there. It looks like it would be easy to get lost. Why don’t we go back to the garage and tell the woman at the desk what happened. One of the crew must have gotten overzealous, is all.”
         “Rhonda’s right,” Kyle said. It had been a long time since her brother agreed with her on anything. She felt a deep appreciation for him at that moment. “If one of the people here decided to be an asshole, the owners need to know. I’d call the cops right now, if I had a signal.”
         Kyle held up his cell phone to emphasize the point. The small screen glowed brightly in the dark, a ‘no signal’ warning displayed below a yellow triangle.
         Charles didn’t look happy about it, but he nodded in agreement. The three of them began re-tracing their steps, with Charles and his trusty lantern again leading the way.
         It wasn’t long before they returned to the place where the man in the welder’s mask had jumped out at them, but he was nowhere to be found. Kyle walked over to the sheet of metal covering the hole and lifted it. He quickly let it drop back in place and looked at the others, confused.
         “There’s no hole.”
         “What? Are you sure the cover wasn’t moved?” Charles asked, inspecting the sheet metal himself.
         “I’m pretty sure. This is where the guy jumped out.”
         “You guys are probably just freaked out over what happened to Brenna,” Rhonda said. “Charles is right, they probably moved the cover. Let’s get to the garage and try to find out what’s going on, okay?”
         Charles and Kyle abandoned the metal sheet, but still took another look around for the hole as they rejoined Rhonda. They still found nothing.
         There was one bend left in the path before they reached the entrance. Rounding the corner, they were greeted by another surprise.
         The wooden gate was gone.
         Where the gate once stood was now nothing but a thick copse of trees and brambles. Charles shone his light to both sides of the trail to reveal more of the same.
         “What the hell?”
         Kyle had found a large branch and began using it to try and hack through the thorny brush. After a couple of minutes of getting nowhere, he gave up and angrily threw the branch at the thick growth.
         “So what now? Did we make a wrong turn somewhere?” Rhonda asked.
         “No,” Charles said. “There weren’t any places to turn off the trail. We haven’t even gone that far, we couldn’t have gotten lost.”
         “So, what, the gate just vanished into thin air?” Kyle looked even more upset. “Bullshit!”
         Rhonda could tell her brother wasn’t just upset, he was scared.
         “Calm down,” Rhonda soothed her brother. “There has to be some way out of here. They wouldn’t have made this place with no exit. I say we go on until we run into one of the other people who work here and let them know what happened. Maybe they can help.”
         “Chances are, Brenna’s okay anyway,” Charles added. “Your sister may be right. For all we know, the guy that grabbed her might have just gotten carried away. She’s probably more pissed off than scared right now.”
         “And what if you’re wrong?” Kyle asked flatly.
         Neither Rhonda nor Charles had an answer for him. Neither wanted to think of the possibility things could get any worse.
         Without another word, Kyle walked past them and back in the direction of the mysterious disappearing hole. Charles followed behind, holding the lantern as high over his head as he could.
         Rhonda took one last look as the mess of brambles where the gate had been. As much as she hated to admit it, she wasn’t convinced things were okay as far as Brenna was concerned. There was something going on and Rhonda knew it was not at all normal.



         It only took a couple of minutes to return to where they had lost Brenna. The double rows of rotting heads were still where they left them. Kyle was again drawn to the one he was examining earlier. He motioned Charles and Rhonda over to where he stood and took the lamp from Charles. Shining the light close to the head he was inspecting, Kyle moved his head in closer to get a better look.
         “I swear this head looks like Jordan Kurtz!”
         “Who?” Rhonda didn’t recognize the name, but there was a familiarity to it tearing at the edges of her memory.
         “Jordan Kurtz. He was a kid in my class who went missing last year. I didn’t know him that well, but he sat in the desk behind me in Homeroom.”
         The more Rhonda heard, the less confident she was about things going well for them. A sudden need to run, like a rabbit trying to escape a predator, swept over her. She didn’t know where to run, just so long as wherever she ended up wasn’t here.
         “Let’s just keep moving, Okay?” The look in Charles’ eyes revealed the same desire.
         Retreating from the macabre display of heads, they walked only a few yards ahead before they saw something blocking their way.
         Tied up between two trees by only her arms was Brenna.
         “Oh, Jesus Christ!” Charles whimpered. “Oh, fuck!”
         Brenna was naked, the ropes binding her to the trees on opposite sides of the trail cut deep into her wrists. She was sliced open from the base of her throat to her crotch, the skin peeled back to expose her innards. Most of her organs were still attached, but her intestines lay in a steaming heap on the ground beneath her.
         Rhonda was too horrified to say anything. She felt strangely numb, her thoughts totally out of joint with the reality before her.
         When did Brenna get a nipple piercing? That had to have been painful.
         The sound of retching snapped her back into reality. Both Charles and Kyle vomited on the soft pine needles carpeting the path.
         Not really knowing what to do, only feeling she needed to do something, Rhonda rushed to Brenna’s side, calling out to Charles and Kyle.
         “We have to help her! We have to get her down!”
         Charles was wiping vomit from his chin and mouth, tears streaming down his cheeks. “She’s dead, Rhonda! Oh, Christ, she’s dead!”
         Rhonda knew in her heart Charles was right, but she couldn’t believe it despite the evidence before her. She reached up and worked at the rope binding one of Brenna’s arms. Tears of anger, grief, and frustration trickled down Rhonda’s face, but she barely noticed.
         “She’s dead, Rhonda!” Charles repeated. “There’s nothing we can do!”
         Seeing red, Rhonda fired a vicious look at Charles. “We can’t just leave her here, God damn it!”
         Brenna’s eyelids fluttered open and she turned her head in the direction of Rhonda’s voice. This time Rhonda did scream. Brenna’s eyes had been cut from their sockets.
         “Holy shit!” Kyle now ran to his sister’s aid, trying to loosen the knots on the other arm.
         “Rhonda?” Brenna said weakly. “I’m cold.”
         “It’s okay.” Rhonda had recovered her senses and was working even harder to untie Brenna. “We’ll get you out of here and get you warmed up.”
         She didn’t know how that would be possible, what with Brenna’s guts laying on the path, but she needed to keep her calm. Looking back at Charles, Rhonda’s anger flared again as she saw he was just standing there staring at them like an idiot.
         “Damn it, Charles, bring the light over here so I can see these knots better!”
         Blinking as though waking from a long nap, Charles looked as though he hadn’t heard a word Rhonda said. Looking stupidly at the lantern, a sudden look of comprehension crossed his face and he brought the lantern closer.
         “Thanks,” Rhonda said. “Hold it higher, I can’t—“
         Rhonda’s eyes widened as she saw a figure charging at them along the path. It was the man in the welder’s mask. The pick-axe in his hand raised high over his head.
         “Charles, look out!” Rhonda screamed.
         He only had time to turn and see what sent Rhonda into a panic. Charles caught the pick-axe full in the face, the point piercing his right eye and continuing on into his brain. He fell to the ground, twitching and shaking, the man in the mask still holding the handle of the axe.
         Rhonda screamed again, instinctively reaching out to her brother. Her hand instead grabbed a fistful of Brenna’s innards. Drawing her hand away, Rhonda screamed louder.
         Kyle was already backing away as the man pulled the axe out of Charles' skull. He stalked forward and swung the tool again, intending to duplicate the death of his prior victim. Kyle ducked, feeling the weapon scrape the top of his head. Denied its intended victim, the point of the axe instead found its mark in Brenna’s side. She let out a final gasp of pain before slipping the final step into the void.
         Reaching out, Kyle grabbed his sister by the arm and began dragging her away.
         “Come on! RUN!”
         Rhonda didn’t need any more convincing. She ran as fast and hard as she could beside her brother. Without the aid of the lantern, it was a miracle they covered the ground they did without tripping or planting their feet wrong on the uneven ground.
         It didn’t take them long to realize the man in the welder’s mask wasn’t giving chase. Both Rhonda and her brother were out of breath and Kyle was nursing a stitch in his side. They came to a stop and Rhonda took a moment to sit at the base of a nearby tree to recover her senses.
         Kyle had his cell phone out and was holding it high in the air while still massaging his side. After a few minutes of walking in circles, desperately searching for at least a hint of a signal, his face brightened in the glow of his cell’s LCD.
         “Rhonda, I’ve got a signal!”
         Hope flooded into Rhonda in ways she had never felt before. She got up from the cold ground and walked over to her brother as he dialed emergency services. Where before the beep of Kyle’s phone grated on her nerves, it sounded to her like a choir of angels.
         Kyle placed the phone against his ear and waited. Within a few moments, his face turned from hopeful to horrified.
         “What’s wrong, Kyle? What is it?”
         Her brother wordlessly passed the phone to her. Rhonda brought the phone up to her ear and had to bite the fingers of her other hand to stifle another scream.
         She could hear laughter. Clear and crisp through her brother’s phone she could hear the sound of children laughing. It wasn’t a cheerful, joyous nose, but a hollow, soulless glee.
         Rhonda threw the phone on the ground and punted it into the nearest tree, where it broke into pieces. The empty, evil laughter could still be heard faintly through the fractured remains of the cell.
         “What the hell is going on?” Kyle asked. He was breathing hard and struggling to not have a total breakdown right on the spot.
         “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.” Rhonda was close to a meltdown herself. She couldn’t get the images of Charles and Brenna out of her head.
         The clouds had mercifully parted, allowing the moon to shine its reflected light on all it surveyed. It wasn’t much; the thick upper branches of the trees held much of the light at bay, but it was better than the total darkness they had been subjected to so far.
         Rhonda could see the trail continuing on ahead. There was no way she wanted to go on ahead, not knowing what else lay in wait, but there was no way she wanted to go back the way they came.
         “We can’t just stand here,” Kyle said. “We have to find some way out of here.”
         A thought occurred to Rhonda. “I think it’s a bad idea to stay on the path. There’s probably more of those… people waiting. Do you know which way we should go to get back to the car?”
         Kyle had always been good with directions. He seemed to have a natural talent for picking out north or south without the aid of a compass. Their dad once said Kyle was programmed by God with a built-in GPS.
         It only took Kyle a minute or two before he pointed in the direction of a thick growth of trees. “Best guess is that way.”
         “I think we should cut through the trees and stay off the path,” Rhonda said.
         “Won’t someone hear us stomping around?”
         “Maybe, but we’ll be able to hear them, also.”
         Kyle took a long look at the trees in front of him. He didn’t look happy about the idea of trekking through the woods like he was Grizzly Adams, but Rhonda could also see he knew it was their best option.
         “Okay, let’s go,” he finally said.
         Rhonda stepped forward only to be stopped by her brother grabbing her arm. He was looking at his feet and seemed embarrassed about something.
         “What’s wrong, Kyle?”
         “I just wanted… I wanted to say I know I’ve been a dick lately. I’m sorry. I haven’t made things easy for you and—“
         “It’s okay.” It seemed unreal to her how she felt a sudden sense of joy at this moment. Standing before her wasn’t the aggravating, defiant, asshole who had caused her so much grief over the last few months. The person in front of her now was the brother she loved fiercely and would do anything to protect.
         “It’s okay, Kyle. You don’t have to apologize. I love you, too. I just wish you’d—“
         Blood sprayed in her face as Kyle’s chest seemed to explode from the inside. Rhonda’s brother was dead in an instant. Some invisible force lifted him off the ground, his body limp and his eyes lifeless. Rhonda stood in shocked silence as Kyle hung there, his warm blood already cooling on her skin in the chill air.
         Deep cuts began to appear on his suspended body, slicing through his clothes and tearing into his flesh. The cuts appeared all over his body simultaneously, like her brother was being devoured by the blades of some supernatural wood-chipper. More blood, now mixed with chunks of meat, sprayed out in every direction. Parts that were once her brother sprayed onto Rhonda, coating her in a thin spray of gore.
         Rhonda’s was at war with her sense of self-preservation. She knew it was too late to save Kyle, but she couldn’t abandon him even as every instinct told her to run. Every cut appearing on her brother’s body cut just as deep into her soul.
         She reached out to try and grab her brother, desperate to rescue him even though was forever lost to her. Her hand closed around his ankle and she pulled with all her strength. It was slick with blood, but she held her grip firmly, refusing to let go.
         The same unseen force reducing her brother to ground meat hit Rhonda hard enough to send her flying. She hit the ground hard and slid head-first into the trunk of a nearby tree. Hot white light exploded behind her eyes as a crushing pain erupted in her skull. It took all of Rhonda’s will and determination to stay conscious.
         She recovered only enough to witness the last remnants of her brother being shredded to bits. Her sense of self-preservation finally won out. Knowing it wouldn’t be long before she was next, Rhonda forced herself to her feet and began to run. She didn’t care where she was running, so long as it was as far from the ghostly killer as possible.
         Instinct took her along the path of least resistance; abandoning the idea of fighting her way through the trees and underbrush, Rhonda stuck to the trail.
         Blood from a cut in her head flowed down and mixed with the stinging tears in her eyes, blurring her vision. Choking sobs hitched in her chest, making it hard to breathe as she sprinted along the path.
         Low-hanging branches from both sides of the trail whipped and scratched her face and tore at her sweater. It was as if the trees themselves were reaching out to her. The limbs poked and snagged, trying to pull her deeper into the abyss of the forest.
         Rhonda emerged from the groping trees into a small clearing where the moonlight poured like a silver wine into the woods. She was out of reach of the trees and the nameless, bodiless thing that had torn her brother into scraps.
She stopped in the clearing, trying desperately to control her breathing. She sank to her knees, sobbing and filling the night air with the sound of her anguished, choking cries.
Her brother was dead. Her friends were all dead. She let all of her anger and sorrow pour out of her already raw throat, not caring who or what was nearby to hear.
“WHY? GOD DAMN IT, WHY?”
There was no response; no answer save for what sounded like a saw whirring to life near her. Rhonda turned to the source of the noise only to be assaulted by yet another grizzly sight.
A man dressed in a blood-soaked butcher’s apron complete with a small paper hat, was using a small circular saw to cut away large chunks of flesh from a body set on a table at the edge of the clearing. It took Rhonda a moment to recognize the body on the table was Charles. Rhonda tried to scream, but her throat was now too raw. The only sound she could manage was the hoarse remnant of a scream.
The butcher took each scrap of flesh he cut from Charles’ naked form and held it up to his nose. He sniffed as if savoring the aroma of a fine steak before popping each bloody shred into his mouth. His eyes rolled into the back of his head with the ecstasy of the flavor.
Rhonda dragged herself off the ground, willing herself to get away before she was noticed. Her already aching body protested the very idea of going anywhere. Gritting her teeth, Rhonda forced her body to obey.
The act of her standing drew the attention of the butcher. He turned to her and smiled. His face was a mass of boils and puss-filled blisters that burst as he grinned. Turning back toward Charles, he used the saw to slice off his testicles. The butcher held them out to Rhonda, still smiling, as though offering her a friendly bite to eat.
Again, Rhonda ran. Short, gasping screams escaped her lungs as her feet pounded the dirt and pine needle path. She made it only a few dozen yards before something tripped her and she sprawled face-first into the packed dirt. More stars exploded in her head as she felt her nose shatter, spraying blood onto her mouth and chin.
Whatever tripped her still held tight to her ankle and she could feel it slowly creeping up her calf. Through her stunned and blurred vision, Rhonda saw a rotting corpse using her to pull itself out of the ground. As it groped her leg, emerging further from the ground, a swollen black tongue flickered out, licking its exposed teeth in anticipation of the meal it had caught.
She tried to pull away from the skeletal corpse, but his grip was too strong. She nearly jumped out of her skin as someone suddenly blew what sounded like a bicycle horn in her ear. 
Kneeling next to her was a clown. He wore the classic red floppy shoes and the polka-dot jumpsuit, but the innocent look ended there. The clown’s painted face was mapped with cuts and scars, with some of the wounds still fresh and seeping despite the multitude of stitches holding them together. In place of his eyes were twisted knots of worms and maggots, squirming and pulsing as they fed on the rotting sockets.
He beeped his horn in Rhonda’s face and laughed, exposing a mouth full of broken, pitted teeth
“He likes you,” the clown said, patting the head of the corpse as it continued to pull itself out of the ground. “Joe-Joe hasn’t had a woman in years, so he’s a little stiff!”
The clown cackled insanely at his joke and blared the horn in Rhonda’s face again. “He only wants to bone you!”
Rhonda’s breathing had nearly reached the point of hyper-ventilating. She lashed out at the corpse with her free leg, knocking its head back and causing the revenant to lose its grip on her. She brought her fist up, catching the clown in the jaw with the back of her hand.
Not waiting to see if either of them recovered, Rhonda rolled over and crawled away as fast as she could, pushing herself off the ground and back onto her feet. She could hear the clown laughing behind her. It was a sound more chilling than the children on her brother’s phone. The sound of it seemed to pierce her eardrums and seep down inside her, staining her to the soul.
Tearing along the path, Rhonda let everything slip by in a blur as she sprinted, praying to a God she hoped hadn’t forsaken this place to help her find a way out. She remembered the writing on the gate of the trail’s entrance.
God will not save you here.
Rhonda let her hope die the moment those words came back to her. She was not ever getting out of here alive. The realization caused her to stop running and she collapsed onto the ground. She let her sobs and cries again echo through the trees, screaming at the heavens, demanding to know why this was happening.
Something then caught her ear. It was a sound that answered her prayers and allowed her to hope she could survive this after all.
Rhonda heard music.
More specifically, it was the same cheesy, shitty Halloween music they heard in the garage when they first arrived. The music was faint, but it meant the garage –and her mother’s crappy old car, her salvation– was nearby.
         Renewed energy surged through Rhonda and she ran toward the music. She forced herself to move faster and faster as the music steadily grew louder.
Just when she thought she could run no more, she found herself in a large, open field. From here she could see the dilapidated garage, its music beckoning her to its shelter and to her mother’s car, which she could see parked just beyond.
Laughing and crying at the same time, Rhonda pushed herself harder. The cold air stung her tear-streaked face as she flew across the field. She could almost feel the safety of her mother’s car; the uneven roar of its engine coming to life and carrying her away from this hellish nightmare.
It was then she heard the chainsaw.
Every hair on her body stood on end at the high-pitched scream of the chainsaw as it overwhelmed the music from the garage.
Don’t turn around! Whatever you do, don’t look!
Rhonda had never been good at taking her own advice. Looking behind her, she saw a man charging out of the woods. He held the chainsaw up and to the left of him, like a batter ready to hit a home run. His long, black trench coat flowed out behind him like a cape as he ran.
Where would have set the head of a man was instead the head of a pig. Under normal circumstances, the pig-headed man would have looked silly and stupid. As it was, it terrified Rhonda to the point she felt her bladder let go, soaking her jeans.
“This can’t be real,” she whispered meekly. “None of this is real.”
The reality of it struck home as the pig-man covered the distance between them at an impossible speed. Rhonda screamed and ducked as he bore down on her like a freight train and swung the chainsaw. She could feel some of her hair tangle in the blade and rip out, it was so close.
The pig-man’s momentum never slowed. He plowed into Rhonda’s crouched form, tripping over her and sending them both tumbling. He still held onto the chainsaw as he fell and Rhonda felt its spinning blade bite deep into the muscle and bone of her left arm as they fell.
The pain was unlike anything she had ever felt before. The saw’s blade caught her mid way between her wrist and elbow. Her arm was now only attached by a thin scrap of tissue. Her will and desire to escape alive were the only things keeping her from passing out. Her adrenaline was the only thing keeping her from going into shock.
Rhonda stood and pushed herself to keep going. She cradled her nearly dismembered arm in her other hand and half-limped, half-ran to her mother’s car. She could hear the man with the pig head behind her getting to his feet and revving up the chainsaw.
She was almost there.
The car was twenty feet away. Now ten. Now only five.
Rhonda ran straight into the door of the car, not bothering to slow down. The impact sent a jolt of agonizing pain up what was left of her arm. She could hear the man getting closer. Rhonda grabbed the door handle and pulled, only to find the door was locked.
“FUCK!”
Rhonda frantically searched the pockets of her jeans and came up empty. Through the window of the door, she could see the faint glint of moonlight reflecting off the keychain as it dangled from the car’s ignition.
“NO!” Rhonda screamed, pounding with her good arm against the glass, not caring if she cut herself more if she broke through. “GOD DAMN IT! NO! NO! NO—“
The spinning blade of the chainsaw erupted through the front of her sweater, spraying blood all over the window and door of the car. The blade pulled to the left, cutting through her breast and severing what was left of her arm.
There was no pain. Shock had settled in and everything around her seemed muted and sharper at the same time. As Rhonda fell forward against the car and slid to the ground, she could hear the chainsaw rev up for another pass.
She could also hear, echoing through the forest behind her, the high-pitched, evil laughter of children as they welcomed her forever into the void.



         Sherriff Larson stepped out of his patrol car and took a deep, calming breath before joining the deputies lined up along the road.
         In all, there were thirty cruisers lined up, including cars from the Jackson Township and Massillon City police departments. Mingled among these were cars belonging to local civilian volunteers.
         It had been a long three days and everyone involved in the search, including the Sherriff, was exhausted.
         He had been ready to call off the search when the call came over his radio from Deputy Frazier that he and his party had found something. When Larson asked what it was, the Deputy’s reply was uncharacteristically mysterious.
         “I can’t really explain it, Sherriff. You might want to take a look at this yourself.”
         As he approached the cluster of officers and civilians gathered at the side of the road, he noticed they looked spooked. They all talked in hushed tones and looked warily in the direction of the forest bordering the side of the road.
         There were also camera crews from the local and out of state news reporting on the progress of the search. Sherriff Larson spotted Deputy Frazier placating them with the usual statements of “no comment” or “we haven’t got all the facts yet”.
         “Mark,” the Sherriff called out, “what have you got for me?”
         The deputy quickly excused himself from the reporters and jogged over to meet the Sherriff.
         “We found their cars, Sherriff,” Frazier announced. From the look on the deputy’s face, this wasn’t good news.
         “Have you found the kids, too?”
         “No, but… this is the damnedest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
         Sherriff Larson was tired, irritated, and in no mood for any more cryptic bullshit. “Will you just tell me what you found?”
         “It’s better if I show you.”
         The deputy took the Sherriff by the arm and led him to the trees. It was slow going. There was no natural path through the woods, so they had to pick their way through the heavy foliage. It took them nearly ten minutes of side-stepping brambles and branches before Deputy Frazier stopped and directed the Sherriff’s eyes toward what he had found.
         “This is how we found them,” he said. “The kids are nowhere we can find. All of the doors were locked and the keys were still in the one car. It was the one the Rhonda girl was driving, I think.”
         Both cars were parked side-by-side, but there was no visible sign as to how the cars had gotten there. The trees were thick on every side. There was no path and no sign of tire tracks in the soft dirt leading to where they sat. It was as if the cars had been picked off the road and placed there by the hand of God.
         “How the hell?” Sherriff Larson whispered.
         His eyes caught something else in the trees. Standing between two maples was a rickety old gate. It hung by only one hinge at the bottom had had writing in blood-red letters on its surface.
         
         God will not save you here!


END