Page 9 of Walker

We see police running, people running, workers talking on walkie-talkies. We don’t speak, we just stare and hope and pray.

It’s like an explosion went off, bodies after bodies are being carried out of the woods. Some are barely walking, others seriously injured.

This is so much worse than I ever expected. The little girl in the back is wailing at the top of her lungs, I know she is so terrified.

“Sweetheart, is your mom working here?” Lynn asks her.

“She worked the ticket booth,” she answers.

I look out of the window hoping and praying that I just see her standing around outside or something.

That’s when I see a lady running out of the woods holding the top of her head. She is looking around everywhere frantically like she is looking for someone.

“Is that your mom?” Lynn asks, noticing the same lady.

“MOMMY!” she screams at the top of her lungs, trying to bust loose from the truck to get to her.

We watch in horror as someone comes out of the woods dressed up as Michael Myers with a knife in his hand running straight for her mom.

Fuck.

“He’s not a part of the haunt,” the little girl whispers.

Her mom looks behind her and she pushes herself to run as fast as she can toward us.

Lynn opens the door for her, waving for her to jump in with us. I hold on tight to the little girl not wanting her to sneak out of the truck.

The second she is in, I help Lynn pull the door shut and lock it just as his knife hits the window trying to crack it.

I crawl up front with Lynn letting the mom and daughter duo reunite. I look at the mom’s wound on the top of her head.

He literally has scalped a huge part of her head, the blood pouring down her face. “If he wants to fucking play, let’s play.”

He continues banging into the window over and over again trying to break inside to get to us.

The little girl is screaming and crying terrified. I’m waiting, holding my breath. I just know that he is going to get through the window.

We need to get her to the hospital, her face is so pale and she looks so sick.

I’m sick, I never thought I would see him again. He tormented so many people. The nightmares I suffered.

“Fuck this,” Lynn says and gets into the driver’s seat putting the truck into reverse. I hold onto the dashboard to brace myself. “I hope he likes the taste of rubber.” I grin at Lynn.

She floors it, moving far away from him until he is right in front of us. He shakes his knife at us.

She puts the truck in drive, grinning. She floors it right for him. His smile drops to one of horror, turning around so that he can run away.

He doesn’t make it far. His head flies back and bangs onto the top of the hood before he is sucked under the truck.

Bounce, bounce, bounce.

We don’t speak a word turning around to see if we can see him. He is lying on the ground his knife still in his hand.

He puts his foot onto the ground, trying to push himself up.

How is that possible?

I look into the faces of this little girl and her mother, they never expected this. The mom is getting weaker by the second, the shock and the blood loss taking a toll on her.

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