Canary and Brittany are standing with the group who lured us into this hellscape. Their eyes are flat and shiny, they’re almost quivering with excitement. They don’t even bother to look at us, staring adoringly at Wolf Mask.
I know when I’ve been set up. And it feels just like this.
Grabbing Marla’s shaking hand, I squeeze it reassuringly. “Hang onto me,” I whisper. “We’re going to circle around the right side of the house, okay? I think I spotted a boathouse on the far side of the harbor. We can hide in there.”
Thank god I wore my high-tops tonight, but Marla’s in flip-flops. She’s not going to be able to run a city block in those things, much less through this forest.
One of the masked men steps in front of us as we’re edging toward the house, shaking his head playfully. He’s wearing a skull mask, shaped with thin lines of neon, glowing dully in the dim light.
“Th- this can’t be happening,” Marla whispers, shaking like a leaf in a storm. “What is this? They’re just fucking with us, right?”
Even I jump when the guy with the wolf mask slams his bat against the metal tub again.
“Fuckingrun!”I hiss between clenched teeth.
My breath’s tearing through my lungs as I haul Marla behind me, sprinting into the trees.It’s always darkest at midnight,Ma used to say.Time for dark deeds. Time for you to be home, my Luna.
The black clouds above us don’t offer any light, and the tall pines seem to lean over, stroking the top of my head with greedy fingers, trying to snag in my hair or my clothes. I can hear screams fading as we run. I chance a quick look over my shoulder. No one’s after us. Yet.
“C’mon,” I wheeze, “almost there, I promise.”
Marla slips and falls to her knees, sobbing with terror and frustration and I haul her ass up.
“Don’t you stop,” I pant. “We can hide in the boathouse. They said if we make it to the dock, we’re safe, remember?”
There’s a tremendous “thwack!” just behind us, like something slamming into a pine tree, and I slap my hand over Marla’s mouth to smother her scream.
“Run,” I gasp, “we can do this!”
Someone’s just behind us. I can hear them howling like an animal, sometimes there’s a purposeful crack of a branch crushed underfoot. Is this sick bastard playing with us?
A rock bounces off the boulder next to us, nearly clipping me on the arm as we take off again. I can see the pale sand of the beachand the placid waves rolling in. Then - thank god! - the dark shape of the boathouse is in sight.
“Almost there, see it?” I say, squeezing Marla’s hand. “We’ll hide. We’ll be safe. You can do this, just a little more.”
A dark figure leaps out in front of us.
This time, we both scream, the end of it caught in my throat as I cough. His mask is red leather, and he lifts his arm, sending a long bullwhip out with a terrifying crack. Marla shrieks, swaying into me.
“Sorry, lambs. No cheating. Get into the forest, or I’ll take you now.” Another crack sizzles through the air, and the whip leaves a tear in my jeans, a welt rising up on my thigh.
Irrationally, I’m furious. These jeans cost me a whole week’s tips, and I love them. “The boathouse,” I whisper frantically, “stay hidden, don’t come out.” She’s nearly senseless with terror, and I can only hope she understands me.
“Oh,fuck you!”I call out, proud there’s only a slight quiver in my voice. “You rich bitches always think you’re so tough, don’t you? But here you are, all weaponed up with your little whip chasing terrified girls around the forest.”
His hand tightens on the leather handle.
“Here’s the truth…” I step to the left, toward the pines, giving Marla a little push in the opposite direction. “You’re a fucking pussy. Not man enough to make it a fair fight, huh? I’m guessing the only way a little bitch like you gets laid is if you pay for it or throw one of your pathetic parties.”
Marla’s halfway across the crushed shell path leading to the outbuildings.
“I’ve never fucked anyone to death,” Red Leather Mask says, “But I think I’m going to start with you.” He’s coiling the long, leather strand, drawing his arm back and I bolt, digging my heels into the rough ground and racing for the trees again, hearing the crack of the whip and his mocking laughter following me into the forest.
My Pop took me hunting once when I was ten.
I was so proud and excited that he pickedmeto go with him that I was careful to do everything he did. I walked softly, not letting a branch snap under my feet, and tried to control my breathing. He showed me how the moss grows on the north side of the trees. How to look for signs of animals passing through.
We walked slowly, Pop looking ahead and behind us, searching for tracks. When a big, brown buck with magnificent antlers finally raced across our path, he was ready, firing off a single shot. I saw the huge animal stumble once before disappearing into the trees.
