she quickly rolled onto her stomach, checking to see if the machete was lodged in his chest.
It wasn’t.
He held it by the blade in his left hand. The point had stopped a breadth above his chest. Somehow he’d barehanded the blade before it could pierce him. “ Nooo! ” She clasped handfuls of her tangled hair, screaming as all hope vacated her body. It was useless to continue this fight, pointless to think she had a chance to survive. All that was left was to run. Run as fast as she could to get away from him. She started to crawl, but dropped onto her stomach when she felt a whack on her back. It didn’t hurt right away, but the pressure made it difficult to move. Then all at once her back burned with a searing strain. Her arms became heavier, knees wobbling. She could hardly move.
Then the weight lifted with a wet rip. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw blood, her blood, seeping off the blade, dousing his hand in red.
His warped smile returned.
He’d stricken her with the machete diagonally across her back from shoulder blade to hip. A warm wetness oozed down her back, cascading her buttocks and thighs. You will not die here on your knees . Get up you helpless bitch!!! Finally, her mind took control of her body again. Though it hurt like hell she forced herself to stand.
She bolted deeper into the woods. Soon, she could barely hear the putter of the chainsaw at all as the woods thickened, immersing her. She smiled, knowing she’d left him back there.
CHAPTER THREE
(I)
Joel gently patted the ground flat with the shovel. It had taken longer than he’d expected, but Rusky was at last buried. He’d finally quit crying when the process had become such a chore. But, now it was done. Joel could recollect himself, and remember just why he’d been working so hard. Plus, returning home didn’t seem so nice. He’d rather remain in the woods as long as possible.
Nearby was an old tree stump. Using the shovel like a walking stick, he went over to it and sat. Some birds chirped, but other than that the woods were silent. For a moment, he thought he heard the chainsaw again, but it was soon forgotten.
He sighed, staring at the island of loose dirt at his feet.
(II)
Dawn needed to live, and not just for her, but for Kevin as well. Yes, he was dead, but she owed it to him to survive, to get the police, and make sure these sick fucks paid for what they had done.
Her ears caught wind of a dulcet sound. It took a moment to register, but slowly she began to realize someone else was out here. She could hear them, the tone was higher, young, and they were crying.
Had to be a kid.
What’s a kid doing out here? Don’t they have any idea what’s in these woods?
Her bladder pushed against her back, announcing it was at a surplus level. She wondered how long she’d had to pee before just now noticing. Keeping her legs clenched tight, she walked toward the sobs. Hope overruled the dread of someone being out here; maybe they could help. Or , God forbid, they could be hurt as well . Maybe they’d had a run in with the psychopaths. Whatever the case, she needed to find out for sure.
Her footsteps barely produced a sound above a light scuttle. Her stomach was starting to cramp from holding in her pee. She wouldn’t last much longer. Treading softly, she squatted behind a cluster of bushes. She could hear the soft weeping much clearer now.
Then her bladder released, hastily emptying a day’s worth of urine on the ground below her. Spats of warm liquid splashed her ankles. It speckled across her wounds, infuriating them to sting, but the flaming commotion inside of her was even worse, scorching, as hot as the sun from the all night abuse, bringing more tears to her eyes as her bladder continued to drain what she’d kept dammed up for so long. She wanted to scream, but bit her lip to keep her mouth shut. A few faint