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  Sam stepped forward. “A fungus?”

  “Yeah, exactly!” Rob’s eyes instantly narrowed with suspicion. “Wait—how did you know that?”

  Before Sam could reply, Leigh said, “There’s a hunter out in the woods. He’s completely covered. We think he’s dying.”

  “Rob, you didn’t touch her, did you?” Sam’s words came out fast in a frantic voice.

  “No.” Rob patted his arms and neck as if he hadn’t considered this possibility. “At least, I don’t think so. I got out as fast as I could and trapped her inside.”

  Leigh looked at the door. It did not appear to have been tampered with. “How did you do that?”

  Rob pointed to the space between the doorframe and the handle. “I pennied the door. Thank God I had some change in my pocket.”

  Leaning in, Leigh could see the edge of a penny sticking out from the wood. She had seen the trick done many times at school, a common prank to perform on one’s roommate. The coin was used as a wedge that kept the deadbolt in place.

  Rob turned toward the door and spoke a little louder. “I don’t want her coming anywhere near me!”

  A muffled shout of protest came from behind the door. Although it was impossible to decipher what exactly she was saying, there was no doubting the panic in her screams. Eliza was losing it.

  “Shut up!” Rob yelled back.

  Leigh took a careful step toward him. “Listen, Rob, you need to calm down.”

  “Fuck that!” Rob’s eyes bulged. “What we need to do is get help! Right now!”

  Leigh was just about to repeat her order for Rob to get his shit together when Sam spoke up behind her. “He’s right. And I think I know who can help us.”

  Leigh turned, surprised. “Who?”

  Sam alternated between looking at Leigh and Rob as he spoke. “There’s a ranger outpost not far from here. A ranger should be on duty, but if not, we can at least call someone for help.”

  Another cry erupted from behind the bedroom door, though this time it was considerably weaker, filled less with anger and more with fear.

  Rob clapped his hands. “Sounds good to me! Let’s get out of here.”

  A wave of disgust washed over Leigh as she witnessed how easy it was for Rob to tune out Eliza’s helpless wails.

  “No.”

  The sternness of Leigh’s voice surprised even herself.

  Rob stared at her incredulously. “What?”

  “You’re going to stay here. Sam and I will go and try to get hold of Marshall and Alex.”

  Leigh’s lower back tensed as Rob stepped toward her. His eyes burned like lit matches. “Why should I stay here?”

  Slightly shaken, Leigh stood her ground.

  “Someone has to stay with Eliza,” she said.

  “So why can’t that be you?” Rob countered.

  “Listen, asshole!” Leigh surprised herself again. “You’re supposed to be her boyfriend. Fucking act like it for once!”

  It seemed Leigh was not the only one shocked by the reserves of anger she had stored beneath her timid demeanor. Rob stood speechless, the two of them now staring each other down. For a moment, the only noise was Eliza’s dampened sobbing coming from within the bedroom.

  Sam stepped forward. “We really don’t have time for this.”

  Leigh had nearly forgotten Sam. It was nice to finally hear a voice that actually sounded in control.

  Rob threw his hands up as he turned away. “Fine! Fuck me, I’ll stay with Eliza. But I’m not letting her out of that room.”

  Leigh nodded. “Right, I don’t think you should. Not until we know exactly what we’re dealing with.”

  “And what about this guy who’s creeping around outside?” Rob motioned toward the window. “What are we going to do about him?”

  “He didn’t look like he’ll be going anywhere soon,” said Sam. “But just in case, lock the door behind us when we leave. We don’t need him spreading whatever he’s got in here, too.”

  “Look, just stay inside and try to keep Eliza calm,” Leigh said, exhaling the last of her anger. She placed a comforting hand on Rob’s bicep. “We’ll be right back.”

  Leigh looked sympathetically into Rob’s eyes, and for a second, he looked vulnerable.

  He sighed. “All right. Just hurry, please. And for Christ’s sake, be careful.”

  With a hand on the knob of the front door, Sam addressed Rob. “We will be. And we’ll be as quick as we can. I don’t know how much time that guy out there has left.”

  Sam opened the door and gestured for Leigh to exit.

  She took a deep breath. “Right. Let’s go.”

  The two exited, Leigh in the lead, but she slowed to let Sam pass. She then immediately knelt down and began fussing with her shoelaces.

  “I’m right behind you,” she said. “I just need to tie my shoe.”

  “Okay,” Sam said, bounding down the porch steps in a single leap. “I’m going to go check on Dale one last time before we head to the station.”

  As he turned and started trudging through the thick ferns in Dale’s direction, Leigh finished tying her shoe and snuck toward the cabin’s window. While she didn’t think Rob would do anything to harm her friend, she had to be certain he was thinking clearly. The last thing any of them needed was for Rob to do something stupid.

  Cautiously so as not to be seen from her spying position, Leigh raised her head high enough to see into the cabin’s living room. Rob stood at the bedroom door, his ear pressed against the wood.

  “Eliza?” he asked. Leigh was glad to hear a level of gentleness with the question, but was disappointed when he did not receive a reply.

  “How you doing in there?”

  Silence.

  Rob backed away from the door and shrugged.

  “All right then,” he said. “I’m gonna get myself a beer.” He walked away and vanished into the kitchen.

  While not completely satisfied with what she had seen, it was enough to allow Leigh to sneak away from the window. Rob seemed to have gotten hold of himself, and maybe a little beer would help to further calm his nerves. But knowing Rob, she and Sam would have to hurry before one harmless beer became one too many. She didn’t know if they could handle drunken hostility on top of everything else.

  Rushing down the porch steps, Leigh didn’t take long to spot Sam’s back amidst the ferns. He did not turn when he heard Leigh approaching, but kept his hands on his hips while staring out into the surrounding forest.

  Leigh slowed as she approached his side.

  “Okay, I’m all set. How’s Dale doing?”

  Sam did not look at her when he replied, “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Sam pointed to the log they had left the hunter resting upon.

  Dale was nowhere to be seen.

  Chapter 15

  Alex was standing on a beach. She didn’t know where the beach was or how she had gotten there. All she knew was that she could see Marshall in the distance on his surfboard, expertly riding the waves. She called out to him and he smiled back, giving a quick wave before falling into the pipe of another rising crest. She wanted him to come to her so she yelled again. But he was too intent on riding the endless waves that were rising and falling around him.

  I’ll just have to go to him.

  Alex took her first step into the water, surprised at the warmth of the ocean waters. The temperature of the sea rose as she waded deeper into the foaming waves, but for some reason she was oblivious to the danger of angry torrents.

  “Marshall!” she yelled, trying to get her boyfriend’s attention. Finally, he looked in her direction and threw his arms up for her to stop. Despite the deafening crashes of the churning water, Alex could hear his voice as if he was speaking directly into her ear.

  “What are you doing, babe?” he whispered. “You shouldn’t be coming out here in your condition.”

  My condition?

  Alex looked down at her belly and realized
she was swollen with pregnancy.

  Breathless, she looked up just in time to see Marshall’s smiling face before he was swallowed whole by a gigantic tidal wave.

  “No!” Alex cried out as she dived headfirst into the waves. She couldn’t see a thing. The water had become a deep red, thick and heavy. She was floating in an ocean of blood.

  Suddenly, something squeezed her ankle and began to pull. Alex assumed a shark had latched its jaws around her foot, but then realized rather than being pulled downward, she was flying up and out of the bloody sea until she hung upside down above the crimson waves, suspended by a rope that reached forever upward into the sky.

  “Well, look at that.” The voice came from the shore, which seemed miles and miles away. Standing on the black sands was the creature from her worst nightmares: a man dressed in dirty overalls and a baseball cap. In his arms, a newborn boy cried for his mother.

  “He looks just like his daddy.”

  Helplessly dangling by a rope from the heavens, Alex watched in horror as Bugger lifted the child by one stubby leg and raised it above his mouth. His jaw unhinged like that of a snake, stretching far beyond the capacity of a normal human being. Bugger let go of the baby’s ankle and it disappeared into the black hole of his maw, sliding down his throat in one powerful motion.

  Bugger slapped his belly and belched. His black eyes looked right into Alex’s and he said, “Tastes just like his daddy, too.”

  Before Alex could scream, the rope holding her leg snapped, and she plunged into the sea of blood.

  * * *

  Alex jolted awake just as she was about to hit the surface, screaming through something that had been jammed in her mouth. From the taste alone, she could tell it was a dry, filthy rag, its sour material stretching across her mouth. The open forest where she had lost consciousness no longer surrounded her, though she was still suspended in the air. Only now, she hung by her hands, which were tied together above her head. The other end of the rope was fastened around a dangling meat hook.

  The darkness enveloping her in this new environment made it difficult to see, but she could tell she was in some kind of basement. A single lantern burned atop a nearby table, casting light onto the floor, which was merely pungent, dark soil, surrounded by four stone walls. A staircase along the opposite wall led up to first floor, dim light seeping through the cracks between the planks of the wooden ceiling. Strapped to or hanging from the walls were various hunting tools: rifles, bear traps, snares, and shotguns. But even more disturbing than the firearms and traps were the numerous cutting instruments strewn about the room—a cleaver, a hacksaw, a bowie knife, and a mammoth chainsaw.

  And that smell…

  The air was thick and hot, filled with the scent of rotten meat and mildew. Rancid humidity entered her nostrils and threatened to induce vomiting. Alex resisted the urge to throw up and concentrated on one aspect of the room she had failed to notice at first:

  A narrow, vertical strip of light shone through the space between the doors of a storm cellar entrance to her immediate right. If Alex could wriggle her wrists free from the metal talon above her, freedom would only be a few steps away.

  She looked up at the rope, balling her hands into fists. She took a deep breath—

  Thrack!

  Alex startled at the sound, her whole body twitching like a hooked worm. A door had been thrown open on the floor above.

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  Someone, or something, was coming down the stairs.

  Something big.

  Quakes of fear racked her entire body as she trembled and watched a looming shape slowly descend the creaky, wooden steps. Hot tears rolled their way down her cheeks. Even after everything she had been through, Alex found herself more afraid than ever before when the unknown behemoth stepped into the dim light of the low-burning lantern.

  A face that had once belonged to an auburn-colored bear concealed its own. She could hear him breathing under the mask, heavy breaths escaping between the bear’s yellowed teeth. The headdress must have been treated by a master taxidermist, as the bear’s fur was in perfect condition. So were its teeth, frozen in a snarl baring lengthy, sharp incisors.

  Alex tried to ask her captor what she was doing here but through the filthy cloth in her mouth, she was only able to emit a muffled, garbled moan. The stranger seemed intrigued with Alex’s form and cocked his head to one side like a curious puppy. As she began to sob, the masked man strode toward her, unsheathing a large tanning knife from his belt.

  Her sobs turned to frantic squeals at the sight of the blade. As the man came closer, she desperately tried to shake the knot loose from the meat hook above her, but the rope wouldn’t budge. Her leg connected with the brute’s thick thigh as she flailed, and the man grunted in response. When Alex tried to kick him again, the giant caught her by the ankle and squeezed. The incredible strength of his grasp squeezed the breath from her lungs, her eyes widening at the intense pain from his grip. He released her leg, relieving her of the pressure, but he was now approaching her exposed neck.

  Alex squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath, waiting for the knife’s edge that would slit her throat and end her life—but then the cellar doors ripped open with a crack.

  “Grizzly!”

  The voice echoed against the stone walls of the basement. The knife was no longer pressed against her throat, and the giant bear man was standing like a soldier at attention. A long sigh of relief escaped her nostrils, but her breath caught again when she saw who stood at the top of the steps.

  It was Bugger: the demon of her nightmares and reality. An unconscious body hung limp, draped over his shoulders. The body had shaggy hair and a drooping shark-tooth necklace: it was Marshall.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Bugger made his way down the steps, yelling at his companion as he went. Grizzly said nothing in reply, but motioned to Alex with his knife.

  Bugger reached a dusty wooden table and slammed Marshall’s body down on top of it. “Oh, no! Don’t you even think of touching that one! Not yet!”

  Although much smaller than his partner, Bugger pushed Grizzly away with a mighty shove to his chest. Grizzly cowered, intimidated by the smaller man for some reason.

  “Just get away from her!” Bugger yelled. “We’re not carving her up until I say so.”

  Grizzly grunted.

  “Because!” Bugger’s fingers were dug into Alex’s jaw, yanking her face closer to his. “For reasons you wouldn’t understand.”

  The hillbilly’s cracked lips parted to reveal his rotten teeth that he licked with a rancid tongue. Alex squeezed her eyes shut again and wished that Grizzly had killed her when he had the chance.

  Fortunately, Bugger released his grip and did not stick his vile tongue in her mouth like she feared he might. Instead, he took three powerful strides toward Grizzly and jabbed a finger into the larger man’s chest.

  “Now. If you really want to make yourself useful then you can get to work on this one here.” He pointed at Marshall’s unconscious body, then turned and winked at Alex.

  “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you.”

  Alex turned away from Bugger’s sadistic smile, her eyes filling with tears. Not knowing where to look to escape this nightmarish scene, she focused on Marshall, who actually looked peaceful in his blacked-out state. She tried to block out everything else and only think about that wonderful mop of hair she’d once run her fingers through. Or the toned, bronzed arms she’d clung to as they walked across campus. Those days seemed to be a lifetime ago. How could they be the same people who were now being held captive in a dank basement by a bunch of psychos? Things weren’t supposed to be like this. They were supposed to be finishing school, going to parties and having fun. Just last month they were cruising around Champlain on a rented jet boat. She remembered how Marshall wished Vermont had a seashore so he could find some decent waves…

  The daydream collapsed with the reappearance of Grizzl
y, who now stood directly behind Marshall’s head. In his hands he gripped a large double-bladed ax. Grizzly raised it high above his head and Alex shut her eyes, knowing what was to come.

  She braced herself for the sound of metal slicing flesh and bone.

  “Alex?”

  She slowly opened one eye.

  Marshall looked at her through groggy, half-open eyes. He seemed oblivious to where he was or that an ax-wielding psychopath towered above him. His eyes showed no fear, but rather puzzled amusement as to why his girlfriend was hung up like a coat in a closet. A crooked half smile pulled up one side of his mouth.

  “What’s going on?”

  The smile remained on his face even after his head fell to the dirt floor and rolled past her feet. Blood shot from the stump of his neck like an opened fire hydrant, spraying everything that lined the opposite wall. Bugger jumped as the hot liquid splashed the back of his neck.

  “Goddammit!” he shouted, leaping out of the way of the bloody torrent. Meanwhile, Marshall’s heels rattled the wood of the table in a spastic, postmortem dance.

  Alex watched in morbid fascination, watching her boyfriend’s execution as if it were a scene in a slapstick comedy. When she began to laugh from behind the fabric in her mouth, she knew her sanity had finally snapped.

  Bugger reached for a handkerchief and wiped the blood from his neck and face. It smeared across his skin and stubbly facial hair. “Make a bigger mess, why don’t you?” he said, punching Grizzly in his huge bicep and snatching the ax from his hands. “Give me that! You can’t do anything right, can you?”

  Meanwhile, Marshall’s legs continued to twitch on the table, heels clattering against the wood.

  “Just let me do this,” Bugger said, removing a blood-crusted meat cleaver wedged into the side of the table. “You just get back out there and keep hunting.”

  Grizzly grunted and threw his arms up. Somehow understanding Grizzly’s secret language, Bugger tensed his neck and replied through gritted teeth. “Why? I’ll tell you why.”