Prologue
The Slasher
It was astounding how much blood the human body held. How much it could fountain out of a teenage boy’s neck, where someone had sliced away a wedge of flesh like it was an apple pie. How much time it took for the boy to realize he was a dead man walking. No, not walking.Thrashing.Performing a suite of full-body lurches like an air dancer in front of a used car dealership, while his girlfriend’s severed head rocked at his feet.
Gurgling, the boy clutched helplessly at his spraying wound. In front of him, a pretty blond girl shrieked as a crimson jet hit her squarely in the chest and splattered across her chin. She grabbed her boyfriend’s arm—and the shriek collapsed into laughter as the fake blood dripped down her disposable plastic rain poncho. Printed with theSlashermovie logo on the back, it had been included in the ticket price and was a prized souvenir for those who braved the front row of the Rialto Theatre.
The audience erupted in hoots and catcalls. “Die, jock!” someone yelled from the back. The high school football player shambled about on screen, his eyes bulging in a comical rictus of terror as a hulking figure in a plain white mask and red buffalo plaid jacket hacked at him with a machete. In front of the screen, on what had been a stage in the Rialto’s pre-cinema heyday, a teenager in a mullet wig and blood-stained jersey mimicked the actor’s exaggerated death throes. A grubby mannequin head in a blond wig—which looked about as realistic as the severed head on screen—leered at the audience. Meanwhile, another cast member in the wings gleefully sprayed the front row of the theater with a Super Soaker of watered-down red poster paint.
It was just another Friday night in Cedar Lake.
At the very back of the theater, the only one not cheering or hollering, a hooded figure observed the mayhem with the keen eye of a scientist. The figure’s attention was drawn to the “shadow cast,” the group of teens who were hammily reenactingSlasheron the stage in front of the film while the audience got splashed with fake blood.
The hooded figure didn’t know whose idea that had been. Probably an enterprising Rialto manager who’d been a fan ofThe Rocky Horror Picture ShowandEvil Dead: The Musicaland needed a gimmick to pump up ticket sales.Slasherhad never dominated the box office likeFriday the 13thorNightmare on Elm Street.It had modestly debuted during the eighties horror movie rush, spawning two direct-to-video sequels and a gritty reboot directed by Rob Zombie in the early aughts. But the franchise would’ve never reached cult status if not for the fact that the cabin where it had been filmed was still standing on the outskirts of town. Just as Seneca Falls, New York, celebratedIt’s a Wonderful Lifeand Phoenixville, Pennsylvania, had their Blobfest, Cedar Lake leaned onSlasherto transform their otherwise quiet small town into a popular—and lucrative—tourist destination.
“Virgin!” the audience yelled asSlasher’s fresh-faced “Final Girl,”the only survivor at the end of the movie, appeared on-screen. Below, a winsome brunette in a white tank top padded onstage, her look of bewilderment so pronounced it could’ve been seen from the diner across the street. Despite the girl’s terrible acting, the hooded figure drew in a sharp breath.
The movie audience erupted in cheers as the Slasher reemerged from stage right, wielding a plastic machete. On-screen, the girl gasped and sprinted into the woods, the Slasher right on her heels even though he walked with slow, purposeful strides.
Onstage, the actress jogged on the spot, looking over her shoulder as the Slasher approached. The shadow cast’s Slasher was usually a lucky audience member, or sometimes a local celebrity who’d be unmasked at the end of the night. Cedar Lake High’s principal had played the part a few times. Mock-slaughtering teenagers was probably the only thing that kept cranky old Mr. Cunningham going through the school year.
This year, however, wasSlasher’s fortieth anniversary and Slasher Summer’s twentieth. Slasher Summer didn’t have as huge a fandom to draw on as theTwilightfestival in Forks, Washington, but recently the fan convention had attracted higher-profile guests. Most of the original movie cast was scheduled to appear next week, along with special effects artist Tom Savini. It was already rumored they were each going to play the Slasher at various screenings and the forthcoming shows were almost sold out.
It was going to be a summer to remember. Onstage, the Slasher double waved their plastic machete as the brunette cowered. The hooded figure’s lips twisted in a smile. But it wouldn’t be memorable for the reasons everyone thought.
Soon, very soon, the people of Cedar Lake would find out these performances had been only a dress rehearsal.
1
Carrie
The little voice in the back of Carrie’s head, the one that sounded unnervingly like Mama, told her again that she was doing the wrong thing. That she was going to screw up, like she always did. Carrie had thought she’d learned to quiet that voice with the help of her therapist, but there it was, whispering in her ear as she pulled into the gas station.
She knew she shouldn’t have visited her mother earlier that day. But a month ago Aunt Deb had emailed to tell her that Mama was very ill. Formidable Mama, who rarely had a chance to sit unless she was in church or polishing someone else’s silverware, was confined to her bed.
Had Mama asked for her? No, Aunt Deb had admitted. She’d thought Carrie should come anyway. Even though the last Carrie had seen of her mother was a callused palm flying toward her cheek, a month into her senior year at Cedar Lake High. Mama had finallyfound out what had happened at the cabin, and instead of comforting her heartsick daughter, she’d responded with uncontrollable rage. Carrie had packed a bag, taken a bus to her dad’s, and never looked back. Until today.
No one would’ve blamed Carrie if she cut Mama out of her life. Her therapist had even encouraged it. Carrie still needed to learn how to end toxic relationships, especially after her messy split with her ex-boyfriend Daniel.
But when the opportunity to return to Cedar Lake presented itself, Carrie had decided to drop by her old home. Even though, according to Mama, she’d lost any claim to being her daughter four years ago.
Aunt Deb had smiled nervously when she’d let Carrie into the old apartment. Aunt Deb, Mama’s sister who’d painted nails in a town two hours away, had always seemed carefree and glamorous to Carrie. Now the lines around her mouth pinched with worry instead of laughter. Mama wasn’t an easy woman to live with. Carrie knew that firsthand. Unfortunately, neither Mama nor Deb could afford to hire the nurse Mama needed, so Deb had moved into Carrie’s old bedroom and taken a job at the Cedar Lake spa.
The apartment was shabbier than Carrie remembered, or perhaps Aunt Deb wasn’t as finicky a housekeeper as Mama. The glass covering the portrait of the Virgin Mary was smudged. Dust blanketed the votive candles and religious tchotchkes that crowded the shelves. The only shining thing was Mama’s rosary, sitting on the arm of the threadbare sofa, the beads glossy from years of use.
All the childhood photos of Carrie had been taken down, which didn’t sting as much as she thought it would. It only strengthened her resolve to move on. Mama had; why shouldn’t she?
The apartment still smelled the same, however. Like mothballs, canned soup, and the sickly sweet wax of the candles Mama prayed over. The scent triggered a cascade of unwelcome memories. Carrie steeled herself with a deep breath and silently repeated theaffirmation she and her therapist had come up with.I am a strong woman who can’t be hurt anymore.
All her courage dissipated as a shockingly weak voice called from the main bedroom. “Who is it, Deb?”
Aunt Deb gestured at Carrie to go in. Carrie swallowed hard. “Hello, Mama.” She stared down at the wisp of a woman buried in the sheets.
Mama’s thin eyebrows drew together, and she struggled to sit up among the lumpy pillows. “Oh, it’s you. Just when everyone was starting to forget what you did. Have you returned to disgrace me again?”
The sneer on Mama’s lips and malicious glimmer in her eyes were a gut punch, even though Carrie hadn’t expected to be welcomed with open arms. “Of course not, Mama,” she answered in a small voice, the old shame searing through her like molten lead.
“Why’d you have to come back here?”
