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Jacker lifted Kyle up by the throat, and then slammed the boy’s head against the wall again. More blood gushed forth, and Kyle’s lip split open. Jacker hit the boy’s head against the wall again, and then again. This was the part where the boy’s eyes were supposed to roll back in his head. He was supposed to start gagging on blood, and Jacker was supposed to drop him and run. That’s the way this was supposed to go, but everything had changed now. This wasn’t a memory, but a nightmare.

Kyle looked at Jacker and smiled. A flash of green light illuminated the night sky as Kyle started to laugh. “I see you now, Hank Waxman.”

Jacker slammed the boy into the wall again and heard his skull split. Dark red blood sprayed out of the gaping wound on the side of Kyle’s head, but the boy still laughed.

“I see you, Hank Waxman!”

Again, Jacker crushed the boy’s skull against the wall. Again, the boy laughed. There were specks of white bone in the pulp of flesh on the side of Kyle’s head now, and Jacker sent the boy’s skull into the wall to do even more damage.

“I see you, Hank Waxman!”

Kyle’s voice was marred by the flaps of skin that drooped off the side of his head. Meat and bone, broken teeth and a swollen tongue, teeth and blood, and two eyes still staring up at him.

“I see you, Hank Waxman!”

Jacker backed away.

“I see you, Hank Waxman!”

Kyle crawled toward him, his head broken and dripping, his brain pulsing beneath the gore. He reached out for him, but Jacker turned and ran.

“I see you, Hank Waxman!”

Jacker awoke, his head mopped with sweat, and struggled to breath. He gasped and clutched his throat, then reached down to wake Aubrey. She was startled and turned to see what was wrong.

“We’ve got to go,” said Jacker. “Now. Right now.”

“Has the sun gone down?” she asked and looked over at the drawn shade.

“I don’t care. We have to go, right now.” Jacker got out of bed and started to put his clothes on.

Aubrey was nude, and pulled the cover over herself. “What’s got you so spooked?”

“This place,” said Jacker. “We’ve got to go. I’m going with or without you.”

“Okay, for crying out loud. Give me a second to get my clothes on.”

“Hurry up,” said Jacker as he left the room.

He went downstairs and found the others. Paul and Alma were in the living room, while Stephen and Rachel were in the kitchen.

“Hey big guy,” said Stephen. “Did you unwrap your present up there?”

“I’m leaving.” Jacker wasn’t interested in Stephen’s banter. He grabbed his wallet and keys, which he’d left on the counter, and headed for the door.

“Jesus,” said Rachel. “What happened.”

Jacker stopped and looked at Alma. “You need to leave.” Then he looked at the rest of them. “You all need to leave. Don’t stay here. You don’t want to be here when he comes for you.”

“Who?” asked Paul.

“I don’t know!” Jacker was still sweating and swiped his brow. He was panicked, and his heart thumped hard enough that he could feel it in his throat.

Paul came over to him and pointed to the door. “Go outside with me. I want to talk to you.”

“Be careful, guys,” said Stephen. “The sun’s not all the way down. Don’t get caught.”

Paul walked with Jacker out into the yard. Then he took his friend by the arm and spun him around in anger. “What have you been using?”

“What?” asked Jacker.

“You’re high. What did you and that slut do up there?”

“I’m not high.”

“Bullshit,” said Paul. “I can fucking smell it. What was it? Meth? Were you two smoking meth up there?”

“Get the fuck off me.” Jacker pushed Paul away. “I’m not high.”

“Do you think I’m fucking stupid? I can smell it. I smelled it ever since you went up there. I know you were cheating with her.”

Jacker was confused and angry. “I’m not high.” He took Paul’s sobriety coin out of his pocket and threw it at his friend.

Paul caught the token and clasped his fist around it. “You’re a cheater.”

“I had some drinks with Stephen,” said Jacker. “There. You happy? You caught me. I’m a fucking drunk, but I’m not high.”

“I’m not talking about drinking,” said Paul. “You fucking cheated on her.”

“On who?” asked Jacker, abashed.

Paul stopped and his posture relaxed. “I don’t know,” he admitted as if worried by his own addled thoughts. He put his hand on his head and backed away as he repeated, “I don’t know.”

“It’s this place, man,” said Jacker. “I don’t know what’s going on in there, but it’s not good. That place fucks with your head. Do yourself a favor and get as far away from it as you can.”

“I’m not leaving Alma,” said Paul.

“Then you’re going to have to figure out a way to get her away from here. You’ve got to. You’re not ready for what’s happening here. No one is.”

The front door opened as Aubrey came out. “Everything okay?”

Jacker chuckled and shook his head. “No, not at all. Come on, we’re leaving.”

Paul grabbed Jacker’s shoulder. “Come here, man.” They embraced, and Paul placed his sobriety token back in Jacker’s hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. Be careful out there. I love you, man. I need you safe and sound, and sober.”

“Thanks brother,” said Jacker. “I’ll be fine.”

Aubrey took Jacker’s hand as they headed up the hill, away from the cabin. Jacker saw Paul going back inside, and felt sorry for him. As much as he wanted Paul safe, he knew that his friend would never leave Alma. He’d worked too hard to get her back, and loved her too much, to leave her here.

Aubrey and Jacker ran back toward the elementary school. Aubrey said that she knew a different way out, through a sewer on the south side of town, but they would have to get past the middle school and the high school to get here.

They stayed quiet as they went, and reached the middle school quickly. They weren’t worried about the figures in the building now that they knew someone had set up mannequins around town. They stayed close to the school to use it as cover as they snuck toward the park on the other side of the high school. A few security trucks passed, still blaring the warning to Hank Waxman about involving the police, and about how they knew he was a wanted man.

“This is it,” said Aubrey as they reached the park. There was a small playground that was now dilapidated, the once colorful plastic slides weathered and dingy. Past the playground stretched a wide, grassy park.

“It’s on the other side of the park,” said Aubrey. “There’s a ditch that runs up to the fence. We’ll have to crawl through the drainage pipe, but then we’ll be out. The grass is pretty tall out there. If the security trucks come, we can just lay down to stay out of sight.”

They stayed low as they ran across the playground and into the grassy park. They had to lay down once as a truck drove along the road near them, but it passed without incident and they quickened their pace through the field.

“This is it,” said Aubrey as they got closer to the fence. “I can’t believe we made it.” She pulled Jacker down so that she could kiss his cheek. “Let’s get the fuck out of this cursed town.”

Someone pumped a shotgun.

“Thought you might try to get out this way,” said a man’s voice. Three men rose up from the weeds near the ditch, each holding a gun.

“Oh fuck,” said Aubrey as she put her hands in the air.

“Turn around and get on your knees,” said the tallest of the three men. He had a grey beard and a barrel chest. His gruff voice sounded tortured by a lifetime of smoking.