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Chapter 6: Child's Slay
Aleks looked up at him, tilting her head as she nodded.
"Though I don't think our phones work..."
She had hoped that they would, but right now with Ghostface tormenting them again, she didn't think even phones worked well.
But she still pulled her phone out, turning it on and opening her music player. She found a Vaporwave song, pressing play on it before letting the music ring out in the bus with the three of them.
Zach turned the volume up on a likely track...Mute Channel.
"Zach, no offense man?" Ryan prompted, "I liked you better when you didn't listen to this weird future funk dead robot shit."
Zach grimaced, "It's..okay," he hesitated, "When you get used to it."
But the thought gave him pause. Did he really like this music, or...
"You know," he told Aleks, "Now that I think about it... I don't even know why I listen to this stuff."
-Zach and Ryan
"It makes us forget the horrible times..."
Aleks said absently, like it was the easiest thing for her to say at the moment.
Which it was indeed, this music helped them to forget about all the shit they were going through right now.
"But hey...at least we're not the ones screaming right now, its the music instead, right?"
She attempted a joke, reaching over and gripping onto Zach's hand.
Dave looked up groggily to find Fitz Smith staring down at him. "Go away, Fitz. Can't a man waste away in peace?"
Noah
"Oh yeah?" He asked raising a brow, His smile broke at her words and tear down of his shtick, he couldn't blame her, but he it hurt nonetheless.
"Crazy stuff, murder suspicions, suicides, it's like a bad soap opera."
Brooke folded her arms, "You don't know the half of it. How about gay suicide pacts and overdone symbolic imagery?"
She paused, "Oh, wait...you do know about that. In fact, you quite literally wrote the book on it," she held up the little notebook, "In two volumes."
"Well, sure," said Fitz dismissively, "Rest for the weary, moldering in the dirt with the creepies, crawlies, and assorted pests."
He shrugged, "Have you brushed your teeth today?"
***
Zach's smile twitched. In the driver's seat, Ryan rolled his eyes.
"So...uh..." began Zach, "You don't think we should, like...check on the others?"
"I thought we had an agreement, man."
"I know we did, but...I mean...we fixed the bus..."
"And one of the bitches we're leaving behind is the one who fucked it up, so I don't think it's a good idea to go inviting them for a ride. We help the others by getting out first."
Zach sighed, but he didn't protest.
***
"You know, one thing I just don't understand..." began Theodora.
The bus came trundling past her and Teague on the road, cutting her off completely.
"Good Lord."
-Fitz, Zach, Ryan and Theodora
Noah
He would shrug, a proud of himself smirk on his face
"I'm a thorough person, what can I say?"
Pedro grabbed his bow, and took Emma's hand, hoisting himself out of the pit. As he got up, he took his wallet out again and placed the five hundred dollars in Emma's hand.
"Even if you don't spend it now, you could find a use for it later on," He considered giving her a gold coin. She had done him a solid, getting him out of there. If she were apart of his world, it would have been obligatory, "Kids always need money."
But that was just it, wasn't it? She WASN'T apart of his world.
"So what exactly is your plan, Senorita?"
---
Teague's jaw dropped as the bus sped passed them.
"But…but…it was out of gas."
How could this be?
He started waving his arms, hoping they'd see him.
"Hey! Stop!"
---
"Where are you off to, Babe Ruth Jr.?"
Ted nearly jumped out of his shoes at the now familiar voice. He turned from the side door, to come face to face with Audrey Jensen.
Crap. She was going to ruin his plan.
"I was…going to take a leak."
That was such a lame excuse. Why did he say that? That was probably the lamest excuse he'd ever come up with.
"Word of advice, Gentle Giant, lying doesn't suit you," The short girl said, frowning. Of course she saw right through it. She was a living lie detector.
Piper not withstanding…
But maybe this was a sign from God. A sign that he couldn't do this alone. Maybe she could help him.
"Alright. I wanted to get my phone." It wasn't a lie.
"You didn't bring it with you?" The look on Audrey's face said it all. He guessed that was the real difference between him and her…and a lot of teen nowadays. Yeah, his phone was nice. But he didn't HAVE to have it with him constantly.
"Nah. I forgot it." It was still in his bunk. Along with the particular item he wanted to get. No. NEEDED to get.
"And you thought it was smart, with a killer on the loose, to go out by yourself?"
Ted shook his head, silently laughing.
"Yeah…not my brightest idea. I'm not Noah Foster, that's for sure."
Audrey frowned again.
"Maybe that's a good thing."
Ted's eyes widened at that remark. Just what had happened between them? They were thick as thieves…
"Will you come with me?"
Audrey was silent for a minute, before she smirked.
"Why not? Let's go, Teddy Williams."
---
They walked out the door and started making their way to Ted's cabin. Audrey was grateful that he wasn't asking questions about Noah…about her dad…Why all the progress she thought she had made with her PTSD seemed to be going down the drain…
"What's wrong?"
She spoke too soon.
"Just thinking about stuff. That's all."
Stuff she still blamed herself for.
"Is this about what Fitz Smith said?"
He was right. It always came back to her. When she first reached out to Piper, she put it all in motion. People were dead because of her. People she cared about. People she loved.
Her Dad and Rachel came to mind…
"Hm. Thanks," Emma pocketed the very likely dirty money he just gave her. What would she spend it on? Her mother's funeral? Maybe a drink at Sal's. Or a ride out of this town to someplace new.
It was futile to plan ahead. She lost hope for the future hours ago.
"My plan? Catch Ghostface in the act. Preferably with some bait, which you'd have been great as but I digress," Emma pondered her options, before a devilish grin appeared on her face. "Kieran, though, is even better bait. I know how these killers are, him included. They're theatrical. Every time they off someone, it's a big event. What better event is there then slaughtering your predecessor? We nab Kieran, and we've already got cheese in the trap." She bit her lip, proud of the plan they were cooking up. "Looks like our interests do in fact align, Mr. Sanchez. This could be the start of a fruitful partnership." Her smile faded as she moved on to business. "One condition: Ghostface is my kill. You could do what you want with Wilcox. Our business is done. But Ghostface is mine." She extended her hand to shake. "Deal?"
***
"No, Fitz," Dave responded, dead-pan. "The day's only just begun. A new dawn benights us. All that appears to be light is truly dark. The beginning of nothing. God, the irony." He shook his head, eyeing the label on the bottle. "I've squandered my best years reading such preposterous poetry, looking for meaning in a senseless scheme beyond my control. Yet here I am, aged and tired, still alive while young girls are murdered. It's a joke is what it is, Smith. A cruel, cruel joke, played on us by a pack of savage gods. Oh, how I'd like to march to the gates of Olympus, the bowels of hell, the gates of heaven and decry them in person!"
His expression soured. "But I'm too drunk to a damned thing. Too weak." Dave downed a good deal of bourbon then.
-Emma and Dave
"It seems like a decent plan to me, Senorita," He shook her hand.
And it did sound like a good plan. For a teenager, she seemed to be aware of most of the common things to avoid in Horror Movies. And this WAS a Horror Movie. There was no doubt in Pedro's mind about that. The only question was what KIND of movie were they in?
And what set of rules were in play?
"You have to consider one thing though: According to your Principle and Vice Principle, bullets won't work on him." Unless they were armor piercing, that was, "So how are you going to do the deed?"
"Like he would do it," Emma replied. "Catch him when he's vulnerable. Unsuspecting." She played with the steak knife she was holding, imagining how it would go down. "First, I'd unmask him. Maybe after I kicked his legs in so he won't run. I'll see who he is, who killed my mother. Then, slowly, I'll carve him up. I'll make him apologize and beg for mercy until he cries like I have many times before. And then...he dies."
Silence fell upon them for a moment.
"It won't be easy. Then again, few things are." With that, she stepped forward. "C'mon. Every second we waste here is another step closer to freedom for Kieran."
Pedro started following her, but asked, "Why? Why not just shoot him? Be done with it after you unmask and have him at your mercy?"
Did she not realize that was the downfall of so many idiotas in movies?
Not that he was one to talk, considering a few of his bosses wanted some deaths drawn out, but here, there was no place for it.
***
Lance Wilson snuffed out the last of his joint before he started making his way back to the Common Hall.
God, he was so high right now. And he was all out of weed too.
Things couldn't much worse than this.
As he drew closer, his spirits lifted up as he smelled it. More weed...
Coming from his ex.
Taking a deep breath, he walked up to her, and said, "Hey."
Emma pivoted on her feet and faced her uneasy ally. "Have you ever had a vendetta, Sanchez? A score you had to settle?"
Thoughts turned to his pendejo father. Of how much he had wanted to kill him...
"Si."
"Then you understand the need to get even," Emma rasped. "Ghostface--no matter who it is under that mask--has taken away my friends, my family. I've been put into an endless grind of suffering that I don't think I'll ever recover from. The best retribution I can think of is to make the bastard suffer as much as possible." She stepped closer, concluding her point. "And a bullet in the head is pretty anticlimactic for the shit I've put up with."
Emma turned around, continuing to lead the way, looking for some sign of Kieran.
"And how many people have been killed, because of that line of thinking?" Pedro asked, still following her.
"Do you realize how many deaths happen, just because the pendejo didn't just shoot him when they have the chance?"
"That's the thing with Ghostface, Pedro," Emma replied, pushing past some branches. "He moves. Like a ghost. Most people don't get the chance. And when they do, it's either too late for them or the killer was prepped with a vest or something like that. He's not some rando criminal." Then, curious, she asked, "You act like you know a big deal about this shit. What knowledge are you basing this keen speculation on?"
"Countless hours of watching every horror movie I could get my hands on," Pedro explained, rolling his neck, "And make no mistake about it, Senorita. This is a horror movie that we're in."
Giving it some more thought, he continued, "Though to be fair, the line Horror and Comedy, for me, vanished a long time ago."
Emma stopped in her tracks and turned around, smiling thinly. "You seen a lotta movies, huh? Know all the tropes and cliches? You can write the book as to how to stop maniac killers in Halloween costumes? Well, that's good for you in your fantasy world. I imagine, as a drug dealer, you retreat there a lot, hopped up on whatever you smuggle into this country. Here's the thing." She stepped forward, looking up at the thug. "You've seen a lot of horror movies. Meanwhile, I've survived horror movies. Two, to be exact, going on three now. So if I'm gonna choose between my intuition or a drug dealer cinephile, I'm probably gonna go with the first one. Besides," Emma licked her lips, stepping closer to Pedro, unafraid. "If my calculations are correct, I'm the final girl, which means I got a good few sequels left in me. You're just some canon fodder to get killed early in the first act to fill up some time. Does that sound like a fun movie to you?"
"Funny thing. I mostly did wet work," Pedro replied, not backing down, staring Emma eye to eye. If this girl thought she could intimidate him, she had another coming.
"But answer me this; What if you're wrong? What if this isn't about your familia this time? What then?"
"But it is. Ghostface made it about my family the moment he killed my mother!" Emma snapped back. "There's no changing that. It's an inescapable fact. And shitty for him, that fact is gonna get him killed. That bastard doesn't control the narrative. I do," she smirked, looking the criminal straight in the eye. "Because this is my movie. And it's got no room for your bullshit horror rules. Soon, it won't have room for you if you keep this up. Comprende?"
Pedro smirked at the girl's attempt to threaten him. He could leave now. No one would blame him. Clearly this girl was loco...
And she was also his best shot at getting Wilcox, and this other Pendejo.
"Crystal, Senorita. Lead the way."
Emma narrowed her eyes and turned back around without saying a word. This guy had his uses, definitely. Then again, she learned long ago not to trust anybody.
Exhibit A: their target, Kieran Wilcox.
The hunt was on.
Deanna shifted, turning at the sound of his voice as if she had been startled slightly.
She could do this, she had her brother watching after all.
"Oh...hey." She said gently, shifting on her feet as she held the joint in her hand.
Her gaze fell to the ground briefly, before looking up at him again.
"What's up? Can I help ya with something?"
Aleks looked as she saw Teague, and she tensed visibly.
"Don't stop Ryan...we need to get out of here."
She reached out and held tighter to Zach's hand, keeping her gaze downwards.
"Zach...when we are out of here...we can get help and save the others...its whats best..."
Hell it killed her to leave everyone behind, but they had already lost so many, she couldn't lose Zach or anyone else if they could help it.
"Faster Ryan, and get us to the nearest town..."
"Thorough," Brooke echoed, "Yeah. Yeah, very thorough," she sighed, "So...you knew. About Stavo and his...phoenix."
She folded her arms, "How long?"
***
"Er..." Zach peered out the window, "Ryan, I think we..."
"I see 'em!" Ryan rolled down the driver's side window, extending a single hand with a single finger held aloft, "Catch ya on the flipside, you fucks!"
***
Theodora watched the bus continue down the road, blinking warily.
"Some days I wonder whether I should've tried selling insurance."
***
"We're just leaving them?" asked Zach.
"We'll come back for them!" said Ryan, "With help. Anyway, Teague's shady as fuck."
"Cause he gave you detention?"
"Unfair detentions!" Ryan insisted, "'Sides, he's needed here to keep the other idiots from eating each other."
A road sign loomed up ahead of them: 'CAMP LIMITS'.
***
Fitz considered Evans's manner, "Simone cursed God when Terrance died. Made a great weeping mess of herself. Ugly business. She turned to me, makeup running down her pallid cheeks as she gripped my shoulders in her hands and besought...Why couldn't it have been you?"
He sighed tremendously, "The marriage wasn't working out anyway. I suppose it was the boy's last gift to us, having it all come out. But that's my business," he looked Evans over, "You know, there's nothing unmanning about tears! Helps digestion. Why, a man can hold in his sorrow only so long before it begins spilling out the back end. That's what my governess used to tell me at least."
He squinted at the doorstep, assessing how damp it was, before deciding to hell with it and sitting down.
"Ugh..." he grimaced, "Moist as Poseidon's wet nurse."
***
"Honey, you've really got to find another hobby," Rachel told Audrey, drawing up alongside her, "Not that I don't enjoy these little chats, but frankly, I wonder that they're really killing your mojo."
-Brooke, Zach, Ryan, Theodora, Fitz and the Ghost of Rachel
Noah
Noah would scratch at the back of his neck, he did that when he was guilty of something. If he ever wanted to be better at this whole detective thing, he would have to work on that.
"Since a week before I first suspected and accused him of being the killer...Boy did Kieran have us fooled, but can you blame me after finding out something like that?" A nervous chuckle rose from his throat as he glanced at her.
***
Drew
Now feeling clean, and born anew Drew would walk back to the common hall, wearing black jeans, a black tee, with a gray hoodie over it, and a jean jacket over that. He hadn't expected it to be as cold as it was in Louisiana at early dawn. Luckily however, he was prepared just in case.
Opening the door, Drew embraced the common hall as if it was his own domain, sure to gain a few looks for his now dye-less hair, and looking even more like the inferior smith who had passed before his arrival.
"You got another one of those?" asked Lance, arms crossed.
***
Teague considered flipping Ryan off, to make things even. Instead he just watched as the bus drove off.
"What? And miss all this fun?" he snarked, shaking his head.
"Is this what we get? For trying to educate the masses?"
***
"Well maybe if I didn't start it, you'd still be here, to nag me in person," said Audrey to the ghost of her dead girlfriend....before she remembered Ted was still there.
The giant had stopped at her words and turned around.
"Who are you talking to?"
Audrey stared at him for a moment before she sighed.
"Rachel."
From the look on his face, Ted realized instantly who she was talking about.
"Your girlfriend?"
"Yeah. My very dead girlfriend."
"Oh, I've cried tears, Fitz," Dave lamented as the man sat down beside him. "I fear I may be under-stocked now, though." He sighed, twirling the bottle in his hand.
"I imagine Peg would have thought the same if she were still here," Dave reflected, watching the liquid spin and spin. "Yes, she'd be laughing at me. Thinking I can relive my daughter's life in some student I've just met. Call it pathetic." He nodded somberly. "She'd be right. I'm a damned fool, always have been. Whether it's when I met Peggy or when my daughter died o-or right here and now, my head's been in the clouds, dreaming of castles in the sky. Meanwhile, I can't build myself a stable home on the ground." His eyes then watered just a bit, proving his previous statement wrong. "My friendship with that girl was selfish. She wasn't a person to me but a ghost come back to life. To repent. Ha! Repentance. How naive I am to go on thinking I'm worthy of repentance..."