Screaming a string of obscenities, Derrick turned and attempted to climb back inside the chute leading to the barn. He jumped up and grabbed onto the ledge with both hands, but the thin metal bent under his weight, and he dropped to the floor.
Looking down on them, the suicide dummy shifted and became more relaxed, as if sedated by their fear. With its free hand, it reached above its head and clutched the rope. Its fiery eyes made every action visible. The light gleamed off the old butcher knife Mallory had seen on her first visit and now the dummy’s fingers clamped down on the blade’s handle, changing the prop into a weapon. In one swipe it freed itself from the noose.
“Oh, shit,” Derrick continued to scream, “oh, shit!”
Machinegun bursts of lightning flickered overhead. Passing through the stroboscopic flare, the demonic dummy appeared to teleport toward them, its shape found, then lost, then found again in the blast.
Seconds before the beast cut itself free, Mallory heard the metallic shriek of rusty hinges. She scanned the room, looking for its source.
Ten feet across the silo, a fire-lit square hole opened in the darkness.
“Mallory,” Tim shouted. “Mallory, are you there?”
“Yes!”
The creature dropped in front of her, blocking the way, casting the cold shadow of a mountain.
Thunder clashed.
The monster lunged.
Tim yelled.
Mallory tried to dodge right, but Derrick’s strong hands seized her shirt and pulled her to the left. He caught her by the shoulders, fingernails digging into her skin. There came a sound similar to cutting through a watermelon rind. Then she collapsed against him, propelled backwards by an irresistible force. Agony clutched every nerve in her body. She looked left, to the strongest source of the pain.
The butcher knife’s handle jutted from her chest.
Her shirt turned red around it.
Stunned silent by disbelief and pain, she looked up from the wound, immediately finding Tim across the room, gazing back in shock. She tried to speak, but couldn’t. Then the dummy jerked the knife out of her in one quick action, the blade trailing thin streamers of her blood. Derrick released his grip at the same instant, letting her fall against the wall. Her legs buckled and she slid to the ground.
She glanced around in a daze—to Tim, to the thing, to Derrick edging away from her. Astonishingly, she didn’t feel any pain now, only a numbing ache that squeezed her upper body.
Maybe it’s not too bad? she wondered. Maybe the blade didn’t go too deep?
But when she raised her other hand to the wound, she reeled with alarm at the feeling of warm blood flowing between her fingers.
Gushing.
CHAPTER 48
Despair seized Tim’s heart, striving to tear it in two.
It had been horrifying enough to find that the creature already occupied the silo with Mallory, but when Derrick yanked her in front of himself to act like a human shield, he’d almost collapsed from shock.
In the middle of the room, the creature stepped back and looked down at Mallory. She was defenseless; one more slash would finish her off. And yet, in spite of her vulnerability, the knife-wielding beast let her collapse to the ground.
Instead, it turned on Derrick.
The boy crept away from where Mallory had dropped, sliding along the silo’s wall in an effort to remain unnoticed. When he saw the thing face him, he screamed and dashed for the exit.
Tim knew from bitter experience that raw speed couldn’t outmaneuver this monster, and he turned his head when the knife’s blade hacked into Derrick’s face, stopping him in mid-stride. The boy collapsed to the floor with a terrible cry, and the creature dropped over him like a ravenous wolf tearing at a deer carcass.
Shutting out the sounds of ripping flesh and breaking bones, Tim did the only thing he could: he rushed to aid Mallory. He had to act while the monster remained blinded by its fury, unaware of anything other than its current victim. He ran to her side and wrapped his arms around her.
Mallory lolled in his grasp while he moved her to the hatchway, but she managed to work her way outside on her own. Tim followed her out the second she stumbled clear, then turned and heaved shut the silo’s access hatch, slamming its locking bar in place. He could still hear Derrick’s cries howling through the silo’s inner chamber, aware the sounds would forever echo through his future. He dared not to think about it while he hoisted Mallory back into his arms and helped her across the empty lot in front of the barn.
Side by side, they shuffled toward the cars.
Don’t worry. I’ll get you to safety, Mallory. Even if you hate me for the rest of your life, I won’t let that thing take you, too.
But looking at her now, he wondered if he’d be able to keep that promise. Already drenched with blood, Mallory’s shirt clung to her body like a second skin. And the effects of its loss were starting to show. Her body sagged in his grasp; her eyes wandered.
“Tim, I’m hurt,” she mumbled.
“I know, but you’ll be all right,” he said. “Keep pressure on the cut.”
“It doesn’t feel too bad… I’m so sorry for earlier.”
She’s going into shock.
“Just hold it tight,” he coaxed, slipping his hand over hers. He pressed down, feeling the warm skin of her breast and the wetness of blood. “It’ll be fine.”
They went several yards in silence, Tim’s breath coming in ragged gusts.
“Is Elsa okay?” Mallory asked.
“I don’t know.”
“I hope…” She trailed off, gaping skyward. “Oh, the barn’s on fire.”
He looked up to see enormous flames spreading above the building, casting light clear to the clouds.
“Don’t worry about it,” he told her. “Just keep going. We have to hurry.”
They were still forty feet from the vehicles when the silo’s access hatch wailed and moaned. He turned to see the metal door lurch back and forth against its lock, visible in the firelight. The concrete around its frame cracked and crumbled.
Oh, crap.
Driving Mallory faster, he ushered her toward Derrick’s Mercedes, mindful of the fact that neither of the cars would have keys in them. He had no idea of how to hot-wire an ignition, so the engine’s capabilities weren’t part of his concern. The German automobile was the closest car to them, and since Tim wasn’t certain how much longer Mallory would remain conscious, he wanted to get her out of sight before she passed out.
He hurried Mallory around to the passenger-side door and opened it one-handed. Moving carefully, he eased her into the seat, reclining it backward. He cringed at her moans of discomfort, knowing the shock of her injury would eventually recede, and she’d soon begin to feel the true extent of its damage. Still, he had no choice but to rush.
The silo access hatch bent, cracked. The lament of its metal wailed into the night.
Tim looked across the Mercedes’s hood and shuddered when the small door ripped inward, vanishing along with huge chunks of its surrounding concrete.
How strong is that thing?
Wasting no time, he went to the driver’s side and opened the—
“Hey, man,” a voice called.
Tim whirled about and saw Becky, Adam, and Lisa approaching.
“Where’s the guy?”
“How’d the barn start on fire?”
“What happened to Mallory?”
Rather than answer them, he threw a disquieted glance to the silo just in time to see the creature step out of the darkness.
“There’s no time to explain. Lisa, does your brother have a spare set of keys?”
The others had also noticed the advancing figure, and they all moved closer to the car, ready to dive for cover.