Through the fake neck, Paul could see pretty well. His horse, Dinny, wondered why they just kept going into the shed again and again. His job was to chase hounds who were chasing foxes. This back-and-forth stuff was boring, but being a good soul, he did as he was asked, ears twitching as people screamed. What a racket!
Next to Fair in the cab, Ned remarked, “That horse could be in a movie.”
Fair, Dinny’s physician, chuckled. “Dinny is dipped in gold.”
Sighing, Ned absentmindedly stroked Pewter’s head as she chose to grace his lap with her large presence. “I’ve been a horse husband for twenty-three years,” said Ned. “I’ll bet I’ve spent more money on horses, tack, and membership fees to hunt clubs than I did on my children’s college educations.”
“No doubt, but you have a happy wife,” said Fair. “Think of the men who don’t.”
Ned laughed. “Point well taken.”
Miss Mona, ears still keen, said to Susan, “I hear screams behind us.”
Susan nodded. “Over in the hayfield.”
The jack-o’-lantern flickered ominously, on the fence post at the end of the hayfield.
Buddy Janss, still dressed as Frankenstein’s Monster, clambered up one of the hay rolls, kicking the man dressed as Dracula as he tried to follow. Finally, the faux vampire grasped his ankle, pulling down the huge fellow. From a distance, Dracula appeared to bite the monster in the neck as Frankenstein bellowed, then fell still. Dracula opened his cape, slipping his knife into his belt. He also carried a small pistol but didn’t use it on Frankenstein. The noise would have proven too distracting. As it was, those viewing the drama thought Frankenstein had been bitten, which he was. He was stabbed, too.
Bloodcurdling screams filled the air, the perfect cover for real mayhem. This Halloween Hayride was topping all prior ones for thrills.
The big square churchyard, hand-laid stone fence surrounding it, hove into view. The obelisk shone silver. As they approached, Harry could read the name on the monument: VILLION.
From behind the obelisk, movie villain Jason appeared, chain saw in hand, white mask in place. Swinging the saw around like a hammer throw, he advanced toward them. The chain saw was not turned on, but that didn’t lessen the startling effect. As he rushed them, wailing ghost noises from the graveyard added to the drama.
From the hayfield, Count Dracula ran hard, jumping the low stone wall at the other end of the graveyard, fangs dripping blood as he headed toward Jason.
“Oh, look at the bony arm reaching out from the grave.” Miss Mona shivered a moment.
The colonel nodded, for he had seen this sort of thing in real life. He’d seen much, maybe too much.
Despite the screams, Bunny Biedecke remained asleep.
Jason turned to meet his attacker and swept the chain saw at Dracula, whose head tumbled off backward. But being undead, the Count picked it up, put it right back on. The two creatures struggled; the Count grappled with Jason, biting him in the neck. Jason fell to the ground, grabbing his neck, fake blood shooting through his fingers.
Using one hand, Dracula vaulted over the graveyard stone wall to disappear. As the wagon slowly passed, Jason rose up, returning to the graveyard.
Hearing a strangled cry, Little Mim’s husband, Blair, pulled off his Jason mask and walked to peer over the other side of the graveyard wall. On his side, trying to clear his throat and his head, was Barry Betz, the original Dracula.
“Barry! Barry!” Blair said, hopping over.
The young man couldn’t yet speak. Blair looked over the field and beheld another person dressed as Count Dracula running toward Tazio, as had been planned.
“Watch out!” Blair shouted to Tazio.
She turned, holding up her cross as the Fallen Angel, but this final time Dracula did not shrink back as scripted. Instead, he struck her hard enough to knock her sideways. Grabbing her, he pulled her up; she struggled to escape until he put a gun to her temple. He dragged her to a dip in the land where he had hidden a dirt bike.
“Get on the bike,” he ordered.
Tazio did as she was told. He sat behind her, gun still to her temple. He started the dirt bike. Given that the gas was on the right handlebar, he had to slip the gun into his belt alongside the knife. As the bike picked up speed, Tazio sat still.
From her perch, Cooper could only dimly see the unplanned drama. She didn’t have time to punch in numbers on her cellphone, and pulled out the whistle instead.
The piercing note carried across the fields, over the assembled wagons. Dabny fired up the truck, roaring out of the side farm road. He screeched to a halt beneath a tree.
“Get me outta here!” said Cooper. “Something’s wrong.”
Dabny backed the truck under the tree and stepped up into the bed. He lifted himself from the bed onto the cab and reached a limb. Swinging himself up, he climbed toward Cooper, who was on her way down.
“It’s these damned wings.”
Dabny unfastened her wings as she tore off the mask. Then they both backed down the tree and got into the truck.
“Graveyard,” was all she said.
Within minutes they reached the graveyard, where Blair was helping out an injured Barry.
From the Haristeens’ truck bed, Harry shouted to Cooper, “Some maniac’s got Taz!” Harry hopped off the truck and started running after the dirt bike, now churning away from the graveyard. Mrs. Murphy and Tucker leapt off to follow. In the cab, Pewter thought they were crazy. She stayed put, hoping Ned wouldn’t join in the ridiculous tumult.
Dabny turned the truck around and headed in the direction in which they last saw the fleeing vampire, with Cooper sitting next to him, straining to see anything.
Riding Dinny back to the schoolhouse, Paul caught a glimpse of Dracula on his bike, carrying the Fallen Angel. The abductor dipped down the other side of a swale in the hayfield.
Leaning forward on the solid horse, Paul galloped toward the spot. When he reached the cusp of the swale, he saw below him what he assumed to be a crazed idiot stop to position Tazio so he could hold her tighter. Without a second of hesitation Paul charged down the low rise and came alongside the dirt bike, which hadn’t picked up speed with its cargo. Leaning over, he tried to climb on, and grabbed Dracula’s shoulder; Dracula reached for his gun. Paul slid off Dinny like a calf roper and the horse stopped cold.
Paul wrestled the fake vampire to the ground, the bike’s wheels spinning as they went over. The young man shoved Dracula away, then grabbed Tazio. Dracula retrieved his gun and remounted his bike. He buzzed off.
Tazio’s eyes fluttered as Paul lifted her into his arms.
“It’s all right, honey. You’re safe.” Paul hoisted her onto Dinny’s saddle and Tazio slumped forward on the animal’s neck. Holding the reins, Paul walked them up the rise, across the northern end of the hayfield. Ahead, he saw Buddy Janss as Frankenstein’s Monster, sprawled on a hay bale.
Flagging down Cooper and Dabny, Paul asked for help for Buddy.
“I’ll call an ambulance,” said Dabny. “Which way did Dracula go?” he asked Paul, who pointed west.
Dabny drove alongside the field in the direction Paul pointed.
Now in the hayfield, Harry ran toward the fiend dressed as Dracula, who pushed the dirt bike for more speed. Evidently, he was still a bit wobbly from Paul’s blow.
After loading Barry into the truck, Fair ran, keeping pace about two hundred yards behind Harry, but she was lighter and faster.
After looking over his shoulder to see Harry in pursuit, the attacker circled in the hayfield. He steered his bike behind the hay bales, cutting his engine.
Harry flew through the hay stubble faster than she’d ever run when she was on her college track team.