“That’s the voice I heard before!” Patrick said.
“Help me!”
Carrie drew a sharp breath. “That sounds like Michael!”
“Which direction was it coming from?” Jason surveyed their surroundings. Carrie turned around, trying to pinpoint where Michael might be. They were on the edge of a steep slope, but their view was obscured by cedars. Tall and menacing, the trees refused to give up their secrets.
The cry escalated into a panicked scream. “Help, he’s gonna kill me!”
Jason spun around, increasingly agitated. The scream had the opposite effect on Tiffany. “Youcan all go after him. I’m heading back to the cabin.” Selfish as always, she turned and fled into the woods, ponytail swinging.
“Tiff! We need to stay together!” Jason called. He jogged after her, arm reaching out to yank her back. Patrick followed, Carrie right behind him. She didn’t want to let them out of her sight.
“Jason! Watch out—” Patrick shouted, abruptly stopping in his tracks.
It was a chain reaction. Carrie’s forehead collided with the space between Patrick’s shoulder blades, sending him crashing into Jason. Jason lurched forward, and instead of grabbing Tiffany like he’d intended, his outstretched palm pushed firmly into her back. Tiffany shrieked and vanished, her voice growing fainter as she fell down the slope. Carrie screamed, her arms whirling as she struggled to stay planted on the crumbling ground.
It was too late for anyone to regain their footing. Patrick grunteda swear word—and suddenly both he and Jason’s arms flailed like they were trying to fly. For a brief moment, Jason’s eyes locked with Carrie’s. She grabbed for his hand. She couldn’t lose him now, not when they were starting to build a rapport. Their fingers touched—and then gravity cruelly tore them apart and sent everyone tumbling into darkness.
19
Tiffany
Tiffany’s mind swirled as she half rolled, half slid down the muddy hillside, her right sneaker flying off. Why hadn’t she worn lace-ups, instead of these cute slip-ons? Something sharp gouged the back of her bare thigh and her mouth opened to cry out, but a scream was already ripping from her lungs, piercing the night like a siren.
She caught a glimpse of the others skidding down the hill, bodies blurring as her descent jostled her around like a sock in a dryer. Carrie’s voice shrilled from above, screaming Jason’s name. Jason hollered back. Patrick called for Jason, followed by a bunch of very un-Patricklike swears squalling through the trees. No one was yelling her name, but she was too terrified to care. Only one thought sliced through the maelstrom in her head, sending her paniccircling faster and faster: If Ranger Russ didn’t know where they were, he certainly did now.
After an eternity, she finally ran out of hill to fall down. Her fingers dug into wet sand as gravity finished its job, leaving her flopped on her belly like a beached whale, knees and elbows and throat scraped raw.
“Jason? Patrick?” she moaned, lifting her head. “Anyone?”
The only answer was the plaintive cry of a loon from Cedar Lake’s calm waters. Normally Tiffany drew comfort from the lake, but its broad expanse only reminded her how small and powerless she was. How alone.
Tiffany groaned and rolled to a sitting position. The back of her left thigh stung. She gingerly prodded the source of the pain and winced as she found wet, tender flesh. Her fingertips came away bloody. A rock or fallen branch had taken a bite out of her leg. That was going to leave an unsightly scar. Thank God the cheer team wore tights.
On the bright side, now that she was at the lake, she could easily find her way back to the cabin. The dock was even visible, a shadowy peninsula a short distance away, as was the abandoned fire pit. She could make it.
Tiffany wiped her face with the back of her hand and tasted dirt and grass. It tasted disgusting. It tasted wonderful. It meant she was alive.
For now. How long until Russ caught up to them? She had to put as much distance between herself and the others as possible. Let Russ find them first. She scrabbled to her feet, forgetting she had only one shoe. Her shod foot slipped on the uneven ground and her ankle twisted at an unfamiliar angle. Fuck! She’d sprained her ankle before, she knew what it felt like.
She howled more from the injustice than the pain, then quickly clapped a hand over her mouth. Hopefully the lake would steal that noise and throw it far and wide, and Russ wouldn’t be able topinpoint her location. She straightened, ankle throbbing dully. She figured she had a good half hour before it started to swell. Enough time to make her way to the cabin and hole up until the power came back on.
Kicking off her spare shoe, Tiffany began to hobble barefoot across the beach. The shifting sand was murder on her ankle, and the blood trickling sluggishly down her leg tickled. Thank God the cheer season was over. If she got out of Cedar Lake alive, she could spend the rest of the summer recuperating and be good as new for the fall. Clive would be happy to drive her around. He was the type who liked stepping up for a helpless girl.
Much like Jason, Tiffany thought with a twist in her gut. She cursed her timing. Trying to kiss him while someone with an axe was running amok had been a mistake. Every slasher movie showed how that ended. And now Carrie had gotten her hooks into him at last. Well, they deserved each other. Some men couldn’t handle a strong-minded woman who knew what she wanted out of life. Carrie would be happy to go along with Jason’s pathetic lack of ambition.
Tiffany wiped a tear from her grubby cheek and told herself it was from the pain in her ankle.
When she realized she’d lost her phone, flashlight, and paring knife in the fall, the tears fell in earnest.
She nearly dropped to her knees in the sand, the despair crushing her with its weight. No amount of money or influence would save her. She had nothing. Nothing with which to fight off the Slasher, nothing to even tell her what the fucking time was. No one was coming to help. Not her friends, her family, her admirers. And especially not Jason. Clive would love to rescue her, but he had no idea she’d gone to theSlashercabin with the Jumpscare Society. She hadn’t wanted him to know she’d be seeing Jason, so she’d told him she was visiting her parents for the weekend.
For the first time in her life, Tiffany felt utterly alone. A queenwithout a court. She longed for someone to come and take her out of her misery. Anyone’s company would do. Even Carrie would’ve been welcome.
Tiffany dragged herself forward, survival instinct taking control of her body. She was alone, but at least she could rely on the fear. Fear would be her friend now.
The same friend whispered in her ear as she gazed up at the cabin. She wiped the tears from her eyes, listening to what the fear was telling her. What if Carrie was right and it wasn’t Russ, but Freddy waiting inside? He’d had the Slasher mask in his van. Maybe he’d gone crazy from all the drug use. She’d heard stories about junkies who did deranged things while high. Or Freddy could be bitter about being stuck in town, cleaning toilets for minimum wage. He’d been working on that screenplay forever, and everyone knew writers were unstable. Especially struggling writers. Patrick had shown themThe Shining.What if the cabin was Freddy’s Overlook Hotel?
