“Our job isn’t to play detective right now,” Wes interrupts.It’s an instruction, a command, but he says it softly.As carefully as a man wielding a chair leg can.“We need to keep looking for a way out.Weshould head up to the mezzanine, but we have to have a clearer idea of what we’re walking into.It’s too easy to get lost in here.”
Far too easy.That’s what it’s designed for, after all.That was the draw for me and Laurie all those years ago, and when I glance over at her and see her already looking my way, I know she has the same idea as me.
“What if we make a map?”she says.“Jamie and I can try to piece together what we remember of this place.”
Wes and John already know about our history with Serendipity, but the offer prompts the women to look at us with surprise.I can’t help but notice that somewhere within Billie’s expression of distaste is something that looks like suspicion.
“We used to come here a lot,” I say before any accusations or more dirty looks can be thrown across the half circle.I guess I’d be suspicious of anyone knowing the ins and outs of the club, too.Having control over the environment is an advantage for the killer, but it could become an advantage for us, as well.“Granted, it’s been awhile, but I don’t think the layout has changed too much… Maybe it’ll help?”
“It wouldn’t hurt.I think you should tell us about those rules, too,” Wes suggests.
“Therules?”Laurie’s voice is incredulous, and when I nod she raises a brow at me suggestively.The bitch knows me too well.“Well,” Laurie says with a shrug, “if there was ever a time to use them, it’s now.You talk and I’ll draw?”
It’s a good plan, and I move my bloody heels into my other hand and point to the coat check.“We can use paper and pens from in there.”
I’ve only taken a few steps across the dance floor, which manages to be both stickyanddusty under my feet, when Laurie is at my shoulder, Wes and John are close at our heels, and Billie and Jennifer have no choice but to follow us.
When we make it to the coat check, I ignore the dead body at my feet, making sure not to step in her blood as I place my shoes and weapon on the desk.Opening the top drawer, I pull out some of the stationery I spotted earlier as Laurie joins me behind the desk and everyone else waits near the door or across the counter.Their bodies are angled in a way that shows the last hour or so has been enough for rule six—watch your back—to become firmly ingrained in the group dynamic.
As Laurie gets to work sketching the outline of the club, I turn back to the group, pretending that this is just a bunch of undergrads rather than a group of people trying to survive the most horrible night of their lives.
“I’m writing a thesis—which you don’t need to know anything about except that I specialize in horror films.Slashers.And these types of films are pretty formulaic.The story plays out because of the characters’ choices.To have conflict and to build tension, characters usually have to make more bad decisions than good ones.All that’s to say, in learning from their mistakes, there are basic rules that need to be followed if you want to survive.”
“Survive what?”Billie asks drily from where she leans against the counter.Laurie and I share a look and her lips purse almost imperceptibly.I’m finely tuned to the subtleties of my best friend’s facial expressions, and I can easily read her opinion of Billie.She’s so detached, dismissive.It might be a coping mechanism, but it makes me doubt my theory that the murderer has to be a man.
“A slasher,” I say again.“LikeHalloween, Friday the 13th, Scream.They’re all films about a killer who hunts down a group of people… Like what’s happening right now.”
Billie’s lip is already curled up to dislike whatever I’m going to say, but when I glance over to Wes, who’s standing guard at the entry to the coat check, and John and Jennifer, who stand behind Billie, noneof them seem offended by what I’m saying.So I ignore her perpetual bitch face and continue my lecture.
“Here are the rules for surviving a slasher.”I decide to skip number one, since I don’t think anyone is going to really have the inclination to get some action tonight.“If you end up hiding, you need to stay hidden for longer than you think you should.In the movies, people always leave their hiding place too soon and the killer is just standing there waiting for them.I’m hoping that if the others haven’t found an exit, that’s what they are doing.”
I pick up the broken bottle.“Having a weapon is a must.So is turning on a light when you enter a room, because the killer can hide in the darkness, but that rule also has a loophole if turning on a light is going to draw attention to where you’re hiding.Pretty much just be wary of dark spaces.”
I turn to John.“Splitting up is obviously a bad idea—”
“Stu was the one who wanted everyone to split up initially, wasn’t he?”
Jennifer’s voice is neutral, but I can literally see her biting her tongue to keep from voicing her “it’s Stu” theory again.It’s not that I couldn’t be persuaded to think he’s the killer, or I don’t want to try and figure out who is doing this, either.It’s just that in most of the slashers I’ve seen, people die because they get sidetracked trying to figure out who the killer is instead of just focusing on self-preservation.
“It’s dangerous to assume it’s Stu or to start making accusations based on fear,” Wes says.He tries to soften the gravity of his statement by directing a grim smile at her when he adds, “That’s how innocent people get hurt.We just need to focus on staying alive and getting the hell out of here.”
Jennifer sighs, nodding in acceptance before she gestures at me to continue.
“Splitting up leaves you vulnerable,” I explain.“You don’t haveanyone to help you if you get hurt, not to mention anyone to watch your back.Which is its own rule.Watching your back, that is.You need to always be aware of what’s happening behind you because the killer can sneak up on their victim.The next one is not to run up the stairs, because—”
“Are you fucking crazy?”Billie spits, that look of disgust etched into every facet of her face as I pause and arch a brow in her direction.
Wes and John try to defuse the situation with a matching, surprised “Hey!”but we both ignore it.Billie’s had a problem with me—with everyone—since we pulled the curtain back on her.But if I didn’t care about what Curtis or Stu thought about me, I’m certainly not going to back down now.
“This isn’t a movie, Jamie.Are you even taking this seriously?”
She glares at me from across the counter, and I stare squarely back at her, unable to stop the scoff that falls out of my mouth.“AmItaking this seriously?Who’s the one who said, ‘The night is still young,’ after they found out five people died?”
She doesn’t even blink.Doesn’t show a hint of remorse, just doubles down and leans into the counter.Her dark lips curl up in reproach as she hisses, “I just want to get through this night without adding myself to that number if possible.”
“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do, too.”
“By going on about some ridiculous ‘rules’ that only make sense in shitty films?”
