Page 32 of Wrong Turn

“Did you kill Bridget?” I shake my head slowly back and forth. “Where’s Savannah?” I shrug. “Is Amber dead?” I shrug again.

Fallon screams in frustration, grabbing me by the throat with both hands, and bending me back over the countertop.Finally, the frigid little virgin grew some big hairy lady-balls.

“What are you going to do, Fallon? Kill me?” I cough out.

“Maybe!” She scream-cries in my face. Her disgusting weak tears splash down onto my face, filling me with annoyance.

“You don’t have the guts,” I snarl.

Her fingers squeeze tighter as I attempt to laugh in her face. Distracting her as my hand brushes over the area to my right, looking for anything I can use to fight her off.

I knew I should’ve grabbed the cast iron skillet, but Amber would have my fucking head if anything happened to that. I’m about to give up my search, and resort to digging my fingers into her eyeballs when my hand grazes over something cool to the touch. It’s metal, pointy, and has some weight to it.Good enough for me.

I grip the long shaft firmly in my palm, and stab the pronged end into her bicep.

Fallon screams, immediately releasing me. Shocked, she looks at the BBQ fork shoved so far into her arm the tips of the prongs are visible on the other side. I pull it out, cast-off splatter peppering the walls as I toss the utensil aside. She stares unblinking at the seeping holes in her arm, and I take her distraction as an opportunity to reassess the situation. However,as soon as I take a step closer to her, she takes off. Retreating toward the front door, as I’m blocking her exit out the back.

Fallon manages to unlock the deadbolt, and get the door open a sliver, before I crash into it. Slamming it shut right on her fingers. The crunch of breaking bones is immediately drowned out by her ear-piercing wail of agony. Falling back against the hardwood, she takes in her crooked and mangled digits. Her hyperventilating breaths wrack through the atmosphere as I turn to re-lock the door. Amber has a key so it won’t keep anyone out, just keep the annoying one in here with me.

I turn from the door, back to Fallon cowering on the floor, but she’s gone. Sweeping my gaze across the house, I catch a flicker of her foot slinking down the hall, and skulk toward it. Slowly, it recedes into her bedroom, and a smirk pulls at my lips. Such a stupid idea, cornering herself in a room with next to no escape. But I wouldn’t expect anything else from the walking embodiment of purity.

I enter the bedroom, no longer concerned with silence. Fallon turns on her heel, putting her hands up in surrender, cellphone gripped tightly in her fist.Ah, so that’s why she crawled in here. Hoping to call for help. Unfortunately, the jammer won’t allow that to happen.“Summer! Stop! What are you doing?”

I encroach on her space, forcing her back toward the wall, away from the window.

“How can you be so smart, and yet, still so fucking dumb?” I taunt. “I can’t believe you still haven’t figured it out yet? All of our friends have either been killed or have disappeared…don’t you find it weird that Amber and I aren’t as freaked out as you? As Bridget and Savannah were? ”

Fallon lets out a small gasp, everything clicking into place. “Just let me go…please.”

“No can do, babe.” I quickly close the gap between us, swiping the Bigfoot statue off the bed. The furry, metal beast connects with her jaw, knocking her to the ground in a spray of red. Another hit knocks some of her teeth free as blood paints the walls.

Fallon doesn’t fight back. No screaming, no flailing, no tears, no nothing. The only sound to be heard is her laboured, gurgling breaths.

It’s about time the bitch shut up.

Of fucking course she’d fall onto the hardwood floor and not the bed. If she had, it would make this next part a hundred times easier.

Struggling with her unconscious dead weight is more embarrassing than annoying. Maybe I should just leave her here, Amber and lover-boy can deal with it. However, I know Amber will never let me live it down if she has to help me with another crime scene.

I stand straight, stretch out all my limbs, and amp myself up. I’ll get this prude onto the bed, no matter what. But this bitch is heavier than I expected, and the seconds are mounting while I make next to no progress. All this huffing and puffing really isn’t worth it unless I’m naked. Which would be weird given the situation.

Finally, I get her upper half on the bed. Racing to the other side, I hope to grab her hands, and pull her the rest of the way up before she slides back down. Unfortunately, Fallon starts to slowly slink to the floor, and I dive across the mattress toward her. Wrapping my fingers tight around her wrists, I get to my feet on the mattress, using my weight as leverage to lift her onto the bed.

Thank fuck, it's working.

Something pops in my shoulder, and the muscles in my lower back burn from exertion, but I can’t stop, I’m so fucking close.My stance is wobbly, the spring mattress working against me as I stagger back, pulling the sleeping twat the last few inches.

If I throw my back out trying to lift her onto this bed, and not by getting thrown into some wild ass sex positions, while I’m getting choked out and my hair pulled, I’m going to be pissed.

Thinking about sex while trying to lift an unconscious—borderline dead—body…let’s add that to a list of things I willnotbe unpacking with my imaginary therapist.

30

ACCIDENTAL MOTORBOAT

AMBER

The windows of the cabin rattle with the deafening roar of the wind, and rumble of thunder. The racket keeps my return to the house a secret from the two inside. However, as I stroll through the back door, taking stock of the area, maybe there’s only one occupant left. It better be Summer.

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