Will made a vague sound of assent. He knew Kelsey was right, but he was still having a hard time getting his head around the notion that they had unwittingly uncovered a vast occult conspiracy. It seemed too fantastic, too much like the plot of one of Jake McAllister’s lurid novels, to believe. Yet, the proof was all around him. And it was intimidating. How could two high school kids hope to combat forces so powerful?
Will looked Kelsey in the eye. “We are fucked, you know that? We are fucking fucked.”
Kelsey chuckled. “I believe that’s what Mr. Brennaman would call a ‘defeatist attitude.’ Hey, we’re the good guys. We can’t lose. It’s like we’re in a horror movie, right? And in horror movies good always triumphs over evil some kinda way or other.” His expression turned uncertain. “Right?”
“No.”
Kelsey frowned. “Anyway, that’s sort of beside the point. What we’ve-”
“The Blair Witch Project?”
“Huh? What about the fucking Blair Witch Project?”
“Evil triumphed, dude.”
“Okay, but-”
“Night of the Living Dead.”
“That’s zombies, man. This is not a living-dead situation.”
“But that black dude, the hero, that redneck fuck shot him in the head in the end.”
“Again, that’s-”
Will had turned pale by now. His hands shook slightly. “Halloween. Michael Myers gets shot six fucking times with a.357 Magnum and falls off a balcony. Motherfucker gets up and walks away. The End, fade to black.”
Kelsey put a hand to his left temple. He was starting to get a headache. “Right, but-”
“And Jason Voorhees, you can’t kill that guy at all. Not permanently. He always comes back. Evil always comes-”
“STOP!”
Will blinked. “Okay.”
Kelsey picked up his beer again. “Sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. I think I may be on the verge of a nervous breakdown.”
“You and me both, man. Listen, I’ve got no idea how to solve this clusterfuck we’re in, but I may know something. I’ve detected a pattern.”
Will cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“Yep. It’s the women.”
“What do you mean?”
“Think about it.” Kelsey swigged beer. He started to pace, moving from one end of the kitchen to the other and back again. The beer bottle moved in his hands, punctuating his thoughts. “Imagine a chain. Myra’s the lead link, she’s the focal point. She’s made our boy Trey her slave. Mrs. Cheever is another link in the chain, a conduit of information. What do they both have in common? You guessed it, they’re women. Then there’s my sister, Melissa. She tried to kill me. Again, she’s a woman. To state the fucking obvious. That guy in the hood, I’m not sure what the deal with him is, but he looked like a subordinate. It’s the women. They’re the leaders of this thing, this whatever-it-is, this black magic coven, this satanic club for girls, what-the-fuck-ever. Need more evidence? Look at your mother. After Mrs. Cheever blabbed to her, she set out to kill you. And it’s real obvious your dad is just another slave. Maybe if you dig around in his office, you’ll find a black hood.”
Kelsey ceased pacing. He stood in the middle of the kitchen, facing Will. He needed a moment to catch his breath. Then he said, “So…what do you think?”
Will swallowed some beer. “I don’t know. This is all so…weird.”
“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the understatement of the motherfuckin’ century.”
Will eyed the half-empty bottle of Warsteiner in his hand. He considered taking another sip, but he set it down without drinking. He was calmer now, thanks in part to the alcohol, but he wanted to keep a clear head.
He looked at Kelsey. “You should slow down on the beer. If more men in black hoods show up, or more demon women, whatever, you don’t want to be fucked up.”
Kelsey glanced at the almost empty bottled in his hand. “Good point.”
He dumped out the rest in the kitchen sink. “Wish I’d thought of that a beer or two back. I’m feeling a little light-headed. Got any soda?”
Will opened the refrigerator, took out two cans of Dr Pepper, and passed one to Kelsey. He popped the tab on his and took a swig. He chugged down half the can.
“Do you think it’s all the women in Rockville?” Will asked. “That would mean thousands of them. Shit, they can’t all be involved. Can they? Every mother? Every sister? Every adult female? Every little girl?”
Kelsey shook his head. “No. Of course not. I don’t think so. I mean, that doesn’t sound…feasible. But let’s say there’s a large number involved. The fact that both your mother and my sister just happen to be involved in this points to a large-scale operation. I don’t believe in coincidence. Still, I’m guessing Myra’s followers have to be, at most, in the hundreds, not thousands. And consider this-she’s actively disliked by a large percentage of the chicks at Rockville High.”
Will found himself nodding along as Kelsey spoke. “Cindy Wells.”
Kelsey jabbed a finger at Will. “Yes! Cindy has never been hostile to Myra. But Myra popped her in the jaw. Why? Who the fuck knows? You know what?” He snapped his fingers. “I bet Slater’s got a fucking black hood in his office! That’s why he didn’t suspend the cunt!”
Will groaned. “Great. What if Slater’s just the tip of the iceberg? I bet other people with authority are involved. Cops, businessmen. Hell, maybe even the mayor.”
Kelsey’s eyes widened. “Aw, fuck. You were right, man. We are fucking fucked. Maybe we should just phone in a bomb threat to the school tomorrow afternoon and get out of town.”
Will didn’t say anything for a while. He didn’t believe something as simple as a phoned-in bomb threat would do the trick, especially if Slater and other Rockville High administrators were in on the whole mass murder plot thing. He was trying to recall something, a word, some strange name his mother had used before Kelsey showed up. He’d been so frightened at the time it had scarcely registered. Now, for some reason, remembering it seemed vitally important.
Then it came to him: “Lamia.”
“Say what?”
“Something my mom said before you showed up: ‘Lamia richly rewards willing sacrifices.’ ” The memory of the exact phrasing made him shiver. “Jesus, that’s creepy. Who, or what, the fuck is Lamia?”
Kelsey resumed pacing, but at a more thoughtful pace this time. “My God, maybe that’s it.”
“The hell are you talking about?”
Kelsey stopped in the middle of the kitchen again. “Say the names, Will. Repeat them, run them together. Lamia, Lamia, Mia, Mia, Myra, Myra…”
Will shook his head. “No. They don’t really sound alike. That’s a big stretch.”
“Is it?” Kelsey crushed the empty Dr Pepper can in his hand and retrieved a fresh one from the refrigerator. He popped the tab and chugged. “We’re dealing with a cult, right? Every cult needs a figurehead, a leader. Evidence indicates Myra is that leader. Maybe she’s a for-real demon, maybe she’s not. Maybe the demon acts through her. The name ‘Lamia’ rings a vague bell. Let’s get on your dad’s computer and do a Google search, see what we can come up with.”
The idea galvanized Will. He finished off his soda and moved toward the archway that led to his dad’s office.
Kelsey started to follow his friend, but came to a dead stop in the center of the kitchen. Something stirred within him, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. He sensed a presence behind him, something trying to move without making a sound.
Kelsey saw Will step through the archway.
The presence behind him shuffled closer, not so furtive now.
Kelsey tugged Blake Mackeson’s.38 from his waistband. He heard Will shriek, then reappear through the archway, backpedaling and stumbling as something closed in on him. Kelsey’s breath caught in his throat. He had a terrible knowledge that he would have to kill again if he wanted to live beyond the next few moments. He gripped the revolver in both hands, whirled around, and pulled the trigger. The big, concussive boom rocked him again, but this time his aim was true. A big, machete-wielding man stood prepared to cleave his head in two. The bullet slammed a hole through the middle of the black hood that obscured the man’s identity. The would-be assailant flew backward and crashed into another hooded man. This second man knocked the body of his comrade aside and charged Kelsey. Kelsey stood stock-still, adjusted his aim, and fired again, just as this new attacker tried to decapitate him with a strange double-bladed axe.