“And tell them what?”
“Tell them that we’re fucking trapped in here with a bunch of psychos. Tell them to get their torches and pitchforks, just like in those old monster movies, and bash that fucking door in! Now get going, Dookie.”
Still wide-eyed and stunned, the nervous teen peered out the window. Then, swallowing hard, he nodded.
“Okay. I’ll do it.”
“You’re damn right you will,” Perry grumbled. “Just hurry. And be careful. You won’t do us much good if you break your neck on the way down.”
“I’m on it, yo.” Confidence crept back into Dookie’s voice. “Don’t worry about a thing.”
Perry and Leo hoisted him up and helped him through the hole. They watched his head disappear, then his shoulders and chest, and then the rest of him, until finally, Dookie was outside on the arched roof. He turned around, pressed one hand to the remaining glass, and then crawled away. They watched him leave until the darkness ultimately swallowed him.
“Think he’ll make it?” Leo whispered.
“He damn well better,” Perry muttered. “Now let’s get back downstairs and find someplace to hide, before any more of them show up.”
They left the room and slowly made their way back down the hall to the top of the stairs, listening as they proceeded. There was no sign that Jamal’s death or Dookie’s escape had attracted any more attention. The house was utterly silent, as if holding its breath.
As they started down the stairs, Perry wondered what would happen when it exhaled. What would come crawling out of the woodwork looking for them?
twenty-two
There was nowhere left for her to go.
Kerri had searched, trying to find an exit from the endless, confusing network of tunnels, but with the darkness and the predators haunting her every step, finding one had been impossible. And so, in the long run, she chose to go for the only exit that she was sure existed. An unreasonable exit, but a way out all the same. She chose to return upstairs, to the house where everything had started, and hope that she could find a way past the barricaded entrance and the traps and the wooden walls that had appeared from nowhere. She had no idea what had happened to Heather and Javier, but she feared that they were dead. If they were alive, she reasoned, then she’d still hear them screaming.
Her legs shook with exhaustion. The scratches and cuts on her body ached. She felt feverish, and her mouth was parched. Miserable and numb, Kerri shuffled onward. Her heart seemed to echo in her chest as if she’d been hollowed out. And in a way, maybe she had been.
She’d seen her boyfriend and her friends slaughtered tonight, and in return, she’d killed and survived. There was no way she’d ever be able to return to the life she’d had before the concert. That life was dead. That old Kerri was dead, lying on the floor alongside Tyler and Steph with her brains bashed out.
She would survive, yes, but could she live with her survival? That was the question Kerri considered as she moved along cautiously, listening for sounds of pursuit or any possible hint that her friends were still alive. Instead, the caves were unsettlingly quiet.
Kerri emerged from a tunnel and after a moment, she recognized the landscape. She was back in the cavern that connected to the basement. She breathed a sigh of relief. It looked and sounded deserted. The rest of the killers must be searching for her deeper in the catacombs. All she had to do now was make it upstairs and then find a way outside. And if she couldn’t do that—
—well, if she couldn’t do that, she’d return to the room on the first floor where she and Javier had originally hidden. That was a safe place. The freaks hadn’t found them there. She’d go back to that room, curl up in the darkness, and just go to sleep for a little while. When she woke up again, things would be better. She’d be able to think clearer.
Smiling at the prospect, Kerri began softly humming the beat of a song from the concert they’d seen earlier in the evening. She crossed the cavern, not bothering to be furtive or cautious. Nothing could touch her now. She had a hiding place in mind, and she’d be okay.
It wasn’t until her humming turned into quiet giggles, that Kerri realized what she was doing. Stifling herself, she shook her head, trying to clear it. A new wave of terror washed over her. Was she crazy? Had she snapped? Or was this just some kind of delayed shock—a bizarre reaction to the pressure of the situation? Kerri became aware that she was trembling and that her arms were wrapped around her shoulders, squeezing tightly. She’d twirled her hair with her fingers and then chewed on it, the way she’d done when she was a little girl. She forced herself to stop it and tried to shake the dread threatening to overwhelm her.
I’m losing it, she thought. I’m really losing it. Got to get a grip on myself, or I might as well just give up now and lie down right here.
She straightened up and started walking again. Her hand trailed over the wall, partly for guidance and partly for comfort. A prayer came to mind, and she opened her mouth to recite it. Then she crushed it instead, before it could form. If the Lord existed, then He had a lot to answer for, as far as Kerri was concerned. She would never forgive the people—things—who had killed her friends, and she would not allow herself to forgive God either. Just because He’d written the rules, that didn’t mean He got to break them. Some sins were inexcusable. What He’d allowed to happen to them tonight was at the top of the list.
Kerri reached the cellar without incident, emerging into it from a large crack in the wall. Red clay squished between her fingers as she entered the dank room. She wiped her hands on her pants, glancing down as she did so. When she looked up again, there was a figure standing in front of her.
Kerri screamed, and the figure rushed toward her and clamped its hand over her mouth. Its palm was coated with dirt and dried blood, as was the rest of its body. It wore clothing, but the garments were almost invisible beneath the grime and gore. So were its facial features. She didn’t recognize Javier until he spoke, and even then she wasn’t sure.
“K-Kerri?”
His voice was strained and hoarse. Kerri struggled against him, and he pressed his hand tighter against her mouth.
“Sssshhhh. Kerri, don’t! It’s me. It’s me, Kerri. Javier.”
She stopped resisting and let her body go slack. Javier slowly removed his hand from her mouth, and Kerri stared at him, gasping. She took one faltering step backward.
“It’s me,” he whispered again, holding up his hands in reassurance. “Are you okay?”
“Oh my God . . . Javier?”
“Yeah, it’s me. It’s really me.”
“Holy shit. I can’t believe . . .”
She ran to him and wrapped her arms around him, ignoring the blood and filth. She squeezed him tightly, and Javier returned the gesture. Neither of them broke the embrace.
“Are you okay?” he asked again.
Kerri nodded against his chest. “Yeah. Cuts and scratches, mostly. I almost got . . .” She tried to say raped, but the word got stuck in her throat. “I’m okay. What about you? All that blood!”
“Most of it isn’t mine.”
“But your wrists. Jesus Christ, that looks really bad, Javier.”
“They’re fine. I’m fine. They’ve clotted now. Soon as we get out of here, I’ll go to the hospital and get some disinfectant and a few stitches and be good to go.”
Kerri’s spirits soared, and her head cleared. “Did you find a way out?”
“Yeah. I was looking for you guys in areas that I hadn’t been to yet, but then I got the idea to come back up here, thinking that maybe one of you had circled back around or hid here all along. But, yeah, I found a way out. There’s a sewer tunnel. These things living down here hacked their way into it. It’s got a little river running through it. We can follow the water, after we find Heather and Brett.”