Laurie dropped the knife on the ground, next to the man who had followed her over from the Wallace's house and attacked her twice now. She limped over to the closet where Tommy and Lindsey were hidden and knocked on the door gently.
"Tommy, open the door," she said in a voice unlike her own. She sounded almost as if she were sick from the confrontation with the man.
The door opened, and Tommy and Lindsey walked out of it. Tommy quickly latched onto Laurie's hand as he walked out of the closet.
"Come here," Laurie instructed as she bent down to talk to the kids. "Now listen to me: I want you to go down the stairs and out the front door. I want you to go down the street to the McKenzie's house. And I want you to tell them to call the police and tell them to send them over here. Do you understand?"
Tommy and Lindsey both mumbled that they understood, which was good enough for Laurie.
"Now do as I say," she ordered.
Tommy and Lindsey stood up and left the bed room while Laurie, tired from having knelt to the ground, sat down completely and stretched out her good leg. She leaned against the wall for comfort, catching her breath for the first time in what felt like hours. Behind her, she didn't see or hear the man sit up.
Loomis stopped in his tracks when he saw the two children running and screaming out of a house across the street. He glanced over at them and started to walk toward them. The children didn't seem to notice him. The boy was shouting for the girl to follow him and the two quickly disappeared from sight.
Meanwhile, Loomis grabbed onto the revolver in his jacket pocket, prepared to pull it out in a moment's notice. He glanced around the house where they children had ran out. He didn't see any sign of what he was hunting, but he knew it was around. Sighing, Loomis hurried into the home.
"Hello?" he whispered as he walked into the living room. The house was pitch black and seemed abandoned, at least on the first floor. "Is there anyone here?"
Suddenly, he heard a woman screaming upstairs. It sounded to Loomis as if she were struggling with someone. Loomis hurried out of the living room and to the stairs. He ran up them as quickly as he could before he stopped at the top of the stairs. He glanced toward one of the bedrooms. A man in a white mask was attempting to strangle a young woman, who was putting up a great struggle against the man. The woman managed to succeed in taking off the man's mask and the man quickly pushed her away from him so he could put the mask back on. For just a brief moment, the man's face was visible in some light coming from the outside balcony and Loomis recognized the man instantly.
Loomis pulled the revolver out of his pocket and pointed it at the back of Michael's head. He waited until Michael had finished putting the mask over his head before he fired. Michael stumbled away from the girl, who was squealing from the sound of the gunshot. Loomis hurried into the bedroom and stopped in the doorway.
Michael was breathing heavily through the mask; it was clear to Loomis that he was in pain. But that wasn't enough for Loomis to know Michael wasn't a threat anymore. Without hesitation, he pointed the revolver at Michael again and fired. Once. Twice. Three times. Four. Five. With each shot, Michael stumbled further and further away from Loomis and toward the balcony. Once Loomis fired the final shot, Michael fell over the side of the balcony and onto the ground below.
As soon as Loomis heard the plop of Michael's body hitting the ground, he clicked the revolver again and heard he had emptied the chamber. He kept the gun pointed toward the balcony, as if he expected Michael to somehow leap back onto it from the ground. To his left, he heard the girl sniffling. After several seconds, she spoke to him.
"Was it the boogeyman?"
Finally, Loomis lowered the gun. He turned around to face the girl. He noticed right away how young she was and wondered why Michael would've picked her to be his victim. He didn't voice his questions in front of the girl, worried it would cause her to go mad.
"As a matter of fact, that was," Loomis said, hoping to reassure the girl as best as he could.
Loomis then walked over to the the balcony. He noticed right away that Michael wasn't on the ground where he should have been. Panicking slightly, Loomis reached into his pocket to get more bullets just as he heard a voice shout from somewhere below.
"Sheriff's Department, hold it right there!" the voice shouted.
Loomis looked up from reloading his gun and saw a police officer down below, about 20 feet in front of the house, pointing his gun at Michael, who had somehow survived the gunshots and the fall from the balcony. Loomis had seen the officer earlier in the day at the Sheriff's station and thought he remembered Sheriff Brackett introducing him as Hawkins, but he couldn't be sure. Ignoring his own questions, Loomis kept loading his gun as Michael approached the officer.
"Are you deaf?" Hawkins demanded. "I said to hold it right there! That means don't move you moron!"
Michael ignored Hawkins and continued to walk toward him. With just seconds to spare, Loomis finished loading his revolved and pointed it down at Michael, ready to fire it again.
"Michael!" he yelled. Michael stopped in his tracks at the sound of the familiar voice. Slowly, Michael turned around and looked up at Loomis. "Don't move any more, Michael. You know I'll shoot you again!"
Michael kept staring up at Loomis. That mask unnerved the psychologist because of its lack of any features. Michael turned his head as he stared up at Loomis, as if he were recognizing the doctor from their 15 years together.
"Let's put an end to this, Michael," Loomis instructed as he watched Hawkins slowly approach Michael from behind. "There has been enough death tonight. You must return to the hospital to answer for your actions, Michael. Come with me."
Michael turned his head one last time before Hawkins tackled him to the ground. Loomis kept his revolver trained on Michael as the officer restrained Michael and managed to put handcuffs on him. Once Michael was in cuffs, Loomis lowered his revolver and walked back into the home. He bent down next to Laurie as he walked past her.
"I will let the office down stairs know you're here," he said kindly. "I'm Dr. Sam Loomis, by the way. What's your name?"
"L-laurie Strode," the girl replied in a shaky voice. "Who was that man who attacked me? And why won't he die?"
"You'll find out soon enough, Laurie, I promise you that. Now, I'll go downstairs and speak with the officer. You stay up here and rest. Someone will be along shortly to take you to the hospital."
Loomis then stood back up and hurried out of the bedroom and down the stairs and through the front door. He ran over to the officer and Michael, who had been pulled into a kneeling position with his hands cuffed behind his back.
"Did you contact the sheriff?" Loomis demanded of the officer.
"He's on his way," Hawkins replied gruffly. "Thanks for distracting him for me."
"Sure," Loomis said shortly as he knelt down next to Michael. He tore the mask off of Michael and threw it on the ground. He stared at his patient, who had his usual blank expression on his face, with his black eyes looking as if they were glossed over. "What the hell did you do, Michael?"
As if awakening from a stupor, Michael's eyes turned to look at Loomis, but he still didn't say anything. Michael's eyes narrowed as he stared at Loomis. He turned his head slightly as if to answer Loomis before he resumed looking at the ground, his expression as blank as ever.