Carrie
The oncoming storm Carrie had felt after she’d rescued Tiffany from drowning had hit, both literally and figuratively. Her expectations for this reunion had taken a one-eighty, thanks to the sudden downpour, Russ Meachum’s unannounced arrival, and Michael’s impulsive actions. Her hope for finding closure was as rocky as the ground beneath her feet. She’d never imagined they’d be wandering the woods, searching for Michael.
Her therapist had told her there was no need to make herself anxious over possibilities that hadn’t happened yet. She had to learn to adapt and accept the results as they came. Like a Final Girl. That comparison had annoyed Carrie, considering the people of Cedar Lake couldn’t separate her from Jordan Knox, but her therapist had been right. She had to take a lesson from the movies she’d watched with the Jumpscare Society and roll with the punches, and also know when to throw her own.
It was taking a lot of therapy to unlearn the programming her overbearing mother had instilled in her. Mama had never let her experiment and thus make mistakes. Good girls always made good choices. Carrie had been allowed to join theSlashershadow cast only because Mama knew the careless teens in horror movies who drank, did drugs, and had sex got killed first, while the good girl survived.
If her therapist were here, he’d tell her to go with the flow and recognize that not every path led to disaster. It was easy for him to say, however. He didn’t have to roam a sprawling forest at night, and with Freddy Min, no less.
She’d been glad to go with Freddy, although it rankled a little that she’d been paired off with him. In high school, classmates assumed she and Freddy were a couple, because they were the sole Asians in their year. Most townspeople thought they were related and, if they were really ignorant, that they worked at the Chinese restaurant on Main Street. Never mind that Freddy’s family was Korean. And the family who ran the Golden Palace wasn’t even Chinese; they were Vietnamese immigrants who’d bought the place from the original owners when they’d retired.
Everyone in Cedar Lake liked you to stay in the box they put you in, whether it was the right one or not.
Carrie’s breathing was shallow as she darted her flashlight this way and that.I am a strong woman who can’t be hurt anymore.“Michael?” she called into the darkness.
An answering whisper panted in her ears.Ki-ki-ki-ma-ma-ma.
Carrie’s blood crystallized into ice. “Do you hear that?” she said to Freddy.
“Hear what?” He’d stowed his flashlight in one of the pockets of his cargo shorts. Carrie had thought it was because he wanted to wield the bread knife with both hands, but his left hand brought up a vape pen. He inhaled frantically, his panicky breath puffing out in harsh bursts.
Carrie’s shoulders sagged with relief and exasperation. The noise was coming from him. “Never mind,” she said.
She strode away as if his anxiety was contagious, checking the compass to see if they were going in the right direction. Freddy ran to catch up with her, taking another hit from the vape. She grimaced, remembering how fuzzy-headed she’d felt after eating his weed brownies, the last time they’d all been together on the cabin grounds.
She motioned to the vape. “Is that a good idea right now?”
“I need it to relax, man.”
She suspected the cannabis was just going to make Freddy more paranoid than he already was. Though he had good reason to be. Carrie shuddered. The Slasher sightings could have been a product of Tiffany and Freddy’s overwrought imaginations. Or someone playing a prank. Or simply costumed fans. But whoever had slashed the car tires had malice on their mind. And Russ showing up—and then disappearing with a kitchen knife—was incredibly suspicious. The cherry on the freakout sundae.
Freddy inhaled again from the vape. “I say screw Mikey. Russ probably already got him. Let’s hitchhike back to town.”
So much for thinking Freddy would listen to her. “We can’t leave Michael out here. You know he’d go looking for you if the situation was reversed.”
“No he wouldn’t,” Freddy said sullenly.
“Jason wouldmakeMichael look for you.”
That was the leadership and loyalty Jason was known for in high school. She’d fallen in love with him because of the way he’d looked out for his cousin. After Michael had gone to live with the Ackermans, she’d foolishly fantasized about Jason whisking her away from Cranfield House and taking care of her, too. She’d always fended for herself, and she’d longed for someone else to pick up the slack.
Which was why his betrayal after The Photo had been such a shock.
People are full of contradictions,her therapist liked to remind her. Yes, they were.
“We’ll walk for half an hour, and then we’ll turn around and head back to the cabin to meet the others.” Carrie spoke with a confidence she didn’t quite feel.
“All right.You’rethe Final Girl.”
Carrie winced but nodded. Anything to keep Freddy on track. “Yes, I am. So you’d better stick with me.”
“Like white on rice. The two of us could take Ranger Russ in a fight, right? He’s got that knife, but he’s pretty skinny.”
So was Freddy. Carrie eyed him skeptically. She didn’t think Freddy could fight anyone, but her history showed she was a poor judge of character. Again, people were full of contradictions.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come down to that,” she said grimly. “Here, give me the knife. You look like you’re going to cut yourself.”
The bread knife was waving around in Freddy’s loose grip. He passed it over, happy to relinquish all responsibility to her. His other hand now free, Freddy took out his flashlight and they continued the trudge through the woods. It was oppressively dark, even with the second light. The flashlights Patrick had handed out were cheap, the kind that hung in the impulse buy section by the hardware store checkout counter. They cast a grainy halo that evoked old found footage horror movies. Carrie’s pulse accelerated, anticipating a jumpscare.
