Authors Note: I do not own any of the original characters from the movie "The Hills Have Eyes", nor do I claim any responsibility for its chilling storyline. Everyone ok with that? Sweet.
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Heat waves could be noticed hovering above the cracking, blazing road. Just one road. No more. A road seemingly never-ending which slithered painfully all the way through the empty, dead desert, carrying those unfortunate or crazy passengers that came to travel upon it. It was so quiet that not even the wind could be heard. Wait - there wasn't even any wind. This, ladies and gentleman, was New Mexico. Lifeless.
But out of, perhaps, nowhere, an increasing humming came from one direction upon the dried out road, and soon, a large, white vehicle came soaring over the hill and startled a scabby turkey vulture from atop a rotting, rusty sign. The iron sign wobbled and rattled against the force of the powerful passing vehicle, and the vulture that was once perched upon it squawked angrily as it flew off to find another resting place.
The vehicle was, in fact, a large mobile home, shining so astonishingly in the sun that if anyone had looked into it they would see their reflection as clearly as they would in a mirror. Out of one of the windows on the left hand side of the moving home, a young boy sat gazing out at the golden desert in awe.
"Cooooooool..." He whispered excitedly.
The boy was around seven years of age, with scruffy hazel hair under a red cap, and cheeky brown eyes. In one hand he held a toy truck, and the other, a pair of cheap yellow binoculars that looked like they came from a cereal box. However, as he had so hurriedly pulled up the blinds of the window, he had accidentally allowed the golden light to charge directly into the eyes of a most impatient teenage girl on the other side of the trembling room. Tutting irritably, she held her hand up to shield her hazel eyes and removed her earphones with the other.
"Charlie," She snapped, "Shut the blinds already."
The young boy continued to watch out of the window and ignored the dirty-blonde haired, hormonal female sitting all alone at the cold, artificial wood table. This got on her nerves. She slapped a hand down onto the table's surface and unfolded her legs impatiently.
"Charlie." She barked.
Finally, the young boy took notice of the girl and looked round at her. She raised her eyebrows bossily, shrugging at him, and waited for his response. He sighed and closed off the source of powerful light hesitantly.
"Go look out the other window if you gotta," The girl added, perhaps with a little guilt, "That one hurts my eyes."
"It's not my fault you're such a baby." Charlie cockily reacted.
As he passed, the girl hit him lightly on the back of his head and he shouted out angrily. And then it began. The young warrior tried to kick at her shins, but the girl was obviously much stronger and capable than he was, and caught him in an arm lock where she was able to rub her knuckles into the top of his head. Charlie roared childishly.
"Hey!" A woman's voice scolded from up front, "What's going on back here??"
A middle-aged woman bustled in from the front area of the car where the adults had gathered to chat away. She was blonde with wrinkles of age showing around her eyes and mouth, nails painted, red lipstick, and wearing shorts and a khaki blouse. The teenage girl threw Charlie away from her and he stumbled into the seats on the other side of the compartment.
"She started it!" He stated, pointing at the girl furiously.
She merely rolled her eyes at he boy's accusation and sighed to herself. The woman, however, folded her arms authoritatively and arched a knowing eyebrow at the girl.
"Sam, don't wind your brother up, you know it's not fair." She tsk'd in disapproval.
Sam's nose wrinkled angrily, "Why do I always get the blame? It's not like I bicker with myself!"
"Sam..." Her mother said in a warning tone.
Sam dropped her jaw to protest but her mother shot up a protesting hand to silence her. Sam felt her anger bubbling, but she still fell back into her chair with a grumble of defeat. Charlie smiled in a gloating manner.
"I know this isn't exactly California Beach honey, and I know you're trying, but we could all do without having to listen to you and Charlie bicker." Her mother clearly explained.
Sam looked down at her book in a sulk, "We could have gone anywhere, but no, dad had to choose the desert..."
"Now Sam, you know your father has always wanted to do a road trip which includes appreciating the most notorious sceneries. That includes the New Mexico desert." Her mother reminded her.
"Yeah, well, it sucks." Sam snorted.
"Now you pack that it, young lady," She snapped, "You're going to learn to be a little more supportive of your father's interests and stop being so selfish. Is that clear??"
"...Yes, ma'am." Sam mumbled.
"Good." Her mother nodded.
As she turned and left the room, Sam cast a stale look at her younger brother and he stuck his tongue out her very arrogantly. God, he was so annoying! Rolling her eyes, Sam sneered and went back to reading her book so to distract herself from doing anything else that would get her in trouble.
Charlie, on the other hand, made his way over to the left side of the room where the exit door was positioned and lifted the pale curtain over his head to peer out at the passing scenery again. He held the binoculars to his eyes and fell silent.
"Honestly, those kids," Sam's mother sighed, sitting back down behind the driver, "They'd bicker on forever I didn't step in."
"I'm sure it's just being crammed into this small space for so long, honey. We'll stop off soon, give ourselves a bit uh' freedom." The man driving suggested.
This was her husband. Muscled body, balding head, and with an awfully warm, friendly smile that instantly drew attention. Beside him, on the right-hand side, sat his wife's best friend and her husband. They had two twins, only 2, who they had left in the care of their cousins whilst being away.
"Aw, I don't mind it," The raven-haired woman chuckled, "It kind of reminds me of the kittens back home. Gosh, I miss them already."
"Oh, come on now Ruth," Her husband comforted her, "Don't you start worrying about them, you know Rick'll feed 'em well... Whiskey and cheesburgers."
Ruth slapped his arm softly and he startled chuckling with Sam's father, who was at the wheel. He sighed, tired, and his wife reached up to begin giving him a gentle massage. Meanwhile, in the back of the vehicle, Charlie had just spotted something intriguing in the sand.
Lowering his binoculars, he squinted his eyes to try and get a better look. Those binoculars really weren't any good, as he could see the subjects a lot clearer without them.
"Sam..." He called his sister.
No response. Charlie cautiously held the binoculars to his eyes again even thought they weren't very helpful - but hey, he was only 7. And yes, there they were. People. Actual people. No way was Charlie imagining it. They were heading straight for he road...
"Sam." Charlie called again.
It was still silent. Charlie whirled away from the window and scurried over to where his sister sat, to shake her violently, making her jump up from her book with a gasp. She tore her headphones away with a return of anger and looked down at her brother as if she had no time for him at all.
"What, you little goof??" She sighed.
"There's something out there!" Charlie exclaimed heatedly.
Sam stared at him tiredly, "... Ok."
"No, really!" He grabbed her arm, "They're out there, I can see them, come look!"
Sam tugged her arm back, "Probably just some vultures or dingos or something, now quit bugging me."
Charlie didn't give in. He kept tugging and pulling and begging for her to come take a look. Sam finally realised she wasn't going to get much peace until she went with him, just to shut the kid up. And so, sighing, she slammed her book shut and got up, and her brother ran back over to the door to take another look. Sam arrived behind him shortly after.
"Well?" She asked, "I don't see anything."
Charlie shook his head in confusion, "But... they were just there...!"
Sam rolled her eyes, "Sure they were. Now, can I read my book in peace please?"
Sam ruffled her little brother's hair playfully which, although it annoyed him, was a subtle sign of her hidden affection for him. But just as Sam was about to turn and stalk back to her seat, the adults let out sudden shrieks and yells from the driver's seat, just before the vehicle was jerked to its breaks. Sam and Charlie were sent flying across the room with sharp screams. Sam tried to grab something, a curtain, the edge of the table, but she failed miserably and collided straight into the bathroom wall with a painful crack, and her brother fell onto the bottom half of one of the bunk-beds. Lucky for some.
The vehicle came to a screeching halt and everything went silent - after Charlie's dad gave a sharp, shocked curse. Charlie rolled off of the bed and rushed over to his sister's side who was lying on the floor on her side, groaning, dizzy.
"Sammy! Sammy!" Charlie shouted.
"Quit it, will you?" Sam hissed, opening her eyes, "I'm dizzy, not deaf."
She sat herself up against the wall and gingerly pressed her finger tips to the side of her head. No blood, but it was still throbbing and stinging like hell, and a severe aching swelled across her forehead like a giant bubble. It would pass.
But that wasn't her concern. The first thing that popped into her bruised mind was, exactly, why had the car stopped?
Up front, the adults were glued to their seats in complete shock, and their wide eyes were fixated upon the three, broken figures that were in the road. Two were male, one was female, who was holding a small baby in her arms. One of the men looked older than the other and was holding his hands out, still, even though he had succeeded in stopping the vehicle without killing himself in the process. They all looked just as stunned as Sam's family, in fact.
But one thing in common with the 3, panting strangers was that, either on their clothes or skin, dry blood was clearly detectable even from that distance...
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Sam, her mother, Ruth and her husband all sat in the spare seats around the compartment, whilst little Charlie sat up front with his dad, who was driving the auto home once again. The humming of the engine echoed from beneath their feet and vibrated in their tight chests. The atmosphere was heavy, weighing down upon them, just as the intense silence was.
The 3 stranger who they had picked up sat next to each other at the back, upon the long, cushioned bench. Their eyes were filled with a sorrowful emptiness, and they wore philosophical frowns on their filthy, sun-burnt faces. They all looked so miserable. In such, dark thought. It made Sam and the 3 adults with her feel very awkward and confused. The baby lying in the older man's arms was awake and gurgling happily whilst fiddling with his chin, lost in her own world of innocence and bliss.
Sam's mother took a deep breath in, as to break the silence, as to announce the next stage of the situation. Conversation was appropriate. The austereness that filled the air needed to be softened.
"Well, my name's Charlotte," She announced, smiling, and pointing to herself, "And this is my daughter Sam, and my best friend Ruth and her husband Mark."
The man holding the baby showed some sign of response; his blue eyes flickered up from the ground and landed directly upon Ruth. It sent an unwanted chill down her spine.
"Um..." She mumbled, unsure, trying to maintain a warm smile, "Can I get you anything? A glass of water, perhaps?"
"Water?" The younger boy asked.
Sam noticed he was around her age, and the blonde girl beside him was a couple of years older. She, above all of them, seemed out of it the most. Lost beyond reason. Down below.
Charlotte nodded, "Yes? Water?"
The boy clearly struggled to show a smile, but even then it was crooked and dry. Sam's fingers twiddled awkwardly in her lap whilst the observed them all. Blood. Dirt. Cuts. Bruises. Tear-stains. Greasy hair. Torn clothes.
What the hell had happened to these people?
Charlotte was just leaving the room when a question suddenly struck her and she couldn't fight the urge to turn and ask. She held up a delicate finger and smiled.
"Would you like ice?" She asked.
At hearing this, the blonde girl finally showed some sign of life and looked up at Charlotte. A strange smile trembled across her lips and, out of nowhere, she started laughing quietly. Sam watched, bemused, just as her mother and the other 2 did. It was bizarre. But then, after having laughed to her desire, the girl's brow creased and she sniffled. Now, she was crying. She looked grateful and amused both at the same time. It was quite distressing to watch.
Sam's mother lowered her hand and her smile faltered. After a few seconds of watching her cry, she cleared her throat awkwardly and left for the kitchen area, leaving Sam, Ruth and Mark alone with the desert wanderers.
"What's wrong, dear?" Ruth bravely spoke up.
The girl shook her head painfully and shut her eyes tight. She couldn't get her words out. God, Sam felt like crying just from watching her fighting to breathe. The young teenage boy beside her wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him; she clung to him, burring her face in his neck. He was fighting back tears, sniffing, blinking, lips tensing and quivering uncontrollably.
"Whatever's happened to you, we're gonna' get you folks some help," Mark added sincerely, "Whatever happened in the past is-... well, you're here now. You're safe with us."
Safe. That word echoed in Sam's mind. Why had these people not been safe? Obviously, there was blood on them and they were all distraught to the point of speechlessness... but why? Hearing the word 'safe' made her wonder what exact danger these 3 innocents had been acquainted with. Poor souls. Well, whatever the story behind them, Sam wasn't sure if she wanted to hear it.
Time dragged on for the rest of that afternoon. Although Sam's dad had planned on stopping for a break, now with 3 passengers covered in blood and unable to talk, he felt it best to press on without any hesitation. These people needed help. And not only that, he didn't want his friends and family subjected to such an atmosphere and position much longer. Charlotte was now up front with her husband, Charlie and Ruth. Mark stayed put with Sam to refill their passenger's glasses of water whenever the time felt right to offer. Each of them had drank at least twenty, each, by now.
"... What's her name?" Sam asked, after a long period of gloomy silence.
This time, both of the guys looked at Sam in reaction. The blonde-haired girl was gradually falling into a light doze on the younger one's shoulder. She looked like she needed it terribly. The two guys didn't quite understand, so Sam pointed politely to the baby.
"The baby." She nodded, smiling tenderly.
There was a short silence. The young boy stared at Sam as though he hadn't seen human life his age for... well, his entire life, and the older man looked down at the baby appreciatively. Sam just smiled politely and waited for someone to answer.
"Catherine." The older man did so.
Sam smiled, "That's a- that's a pretty name."
"It was her mother's middle name," He added quietly, "We... we wanted that..."
"And what's your name, son?" Mark participated, in hope to get things pumping at last.
The man seemed like he wasn't going to answer again. Like he was going to ignore the question, like ever other one that any of Sam's family and friends had asked. And he did. However, it was the younger guy that spoke this time.
"Doug. His name's Doug. I'm Bobby... th-this is my sister... Brenda." He explained, his voice deep and husky; but it wasn't a natural husk, it was obvious that he had strained his vocal cords some how.
No, not somehow. By yelling. Sam tried to improvise and keep the conversation rolling, so she nodded casually and just said the first thing that came to her mind.
"Cool... well, it's, um... it's nice to meet you all," She cheesily said, "Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat? We've got nothing special, but we got some sandwiches in the fridge I think."
Bobby seemed to smile genuinely for the first time since they had met that morning. It was a quick, little smile, one that you had to be watching really carefully to notice, but Sam noticed, and it was real. It gave her hope. Nodding, Sam rose to her feet carefully and stiffly turned herself around as though not knowing what to do. Once her back was turned to them all, she rolled her eyes anxiously; this entire situation was so overly-pressurising! Everyone was definitely walking on egg-shells around these people.
"How're they doing back there?" Sam's mum asked, when Sam came through the doorway.
Sam sighed stressfully, "Well I tried asking, mum, but they seemed kind of reluctant to answer."
Her tone of voice was partially sarcastic. Her mother didn't bother telling her off. The situation had affected everyone, and everyone was a little on edge at the moment. The sun was beginning to set, now, and the sky was almost glowing with tones of a baby fire. Charlie was fast asleep across the seats with his head in his mother's lap. He looked so peaceful, Sam noticed, upon opening the fridge and crouching down to pile out the left-over sandwiches into her lap.
"You're doing good, Sam." Charlotte complimented her.
Her dad nodded also, "Hang in there angel, we'll be coming up to human life soon enough."
Sam closed the fridge, sandwiches in arms, and stood up with a snort, "Ten hours later, he says..."
As she went back through the doorway, Charlotte and her husband exchanged short looks of exhaustion and apprehension. They didn't know what to think.
Sam strolled patiently down the short, 7-second hallway that led past the beds, bathroom and back into the living area as calmly as possible. She didn't want to rush. She didn't want to get back in there A.S.A.P. She felt suffocated in there. And, ironically, as though rescuing her from enduring another second in that ghostly room with those tormented people, something even worse happened. Something that Sam had no idea was the beginning of her very own nightmare - and worse.
There were a number of sharp, loud bangs from under the car, and the vehicle suddenly swerved to the right, out of control, and threw Sam into the wall on her left. Bobby, Brenda and Doug jerked to the side on the seats and Mark was, literally, thrown sideways off of his chair and into the wall. Sam's dad fought desperately to balance the car and line it up on the road again, but it was swaying too violently for any success. Sam dropped the sandwiches as she knocked from side to side and strived to hold herself up, but it wasn't long before one, final skid, in a near full U-Turn caused her to roll out from the hallway and onto the floor beside Mark.
The screams stopped. The screeching cut off. The engines hissed, and everyone panted and groaned. But apart from that, there was silence, just for that moment as everyone ingested what had just happened. Sam was only thinking how unlucky she was that she had to be standing both 2 times that the vehicle stopped in such an abrupt manner.
Mark helped Sam sit up and she looked up at Doug, Bobby and Brenda in concern. Thankfully, little Catherine was unharmed due to Doug's strong, protective arms and the cushions around them.
"Dammit! Bastard!" Sam heard her father curse from up front.
Charlotte called after him, holding the weeping, frightened Charlie in her lap, but he ignored her and swung open the door to the outside. Sam stood up with Mark and he opened the exit door beside them to join him. Brenda clung to Bobby as he also stood and, with Doug, the three of them cautiously followed.
"Jesus, god-damn, christ!" Sam's dad cursed heartlessly, kicking the sand.
He spun away in a stress with his hands pressed to the back of his head. He had already seen the state of the car, but Sam was yet to observe. She stopped with Mark beside her and narrowed her eyes at the two wheels on her left and right; punctured. Flat.
Thick, spiked wire made from iron was entangled in them.
Brenda suddenly inhaled a horrified squeal and made Sam, her father and Mark jump frightfully. Ruth and Charlotte (carrying Charlie on her hip) came shuffling around the corner just at that very moment. Bobby was so overwhelmed by what he was looking at that he was only half-hugging the frantic, hiccupping Brenda who could now hardly stand, and was stroking the top of his head stressfully, not knowing what else to do. Doug was glaring at the wheels; his bottom lip was trembling, he wanted to cry.
"What in the world...?" Ruth muttered at seeing the wheels.
Sam's dad clenched his fist, "Some damn idiot left wire out in the road. Got all four tires in one go. Son of a bitch!"
"Ralph," Charlotte snipped in disapproval, "The kids..."
Ralph just turned away again to try and pass over his anger. Brenda, however, was now mumbling away under her breaking breath to Bobby whilst pointlessly tugging and pulling at his arm, collar and shoulders, as though it would do any good?
"Bobby, it can't be! Please, Bobby... Bobby, it's not them. It can't be them!" She gasped desperately.
Sam watched them anxiously. Something suddenly didn't feel right. It didn't feel right at all.
"Bobby, we got 'em all, didn't we? Bobby, Bobby, please!!" Brenda blubbered nonsensically.
Mark was now filled with alarm and impatience. Sam could see in his eyes that he was getting fired up. He turned and threateningly pointed right at Brenda.
"What the hell is she talking about?" He barked.
"Mark, please..." Ruth whispered worriedly.
Mark ignored her, "What is this??"
"Hey, don't point at her like that!" Bobby snapped emotionally.
Charlie burst into tears again, "Mummy, what's going on?"
Charlotte smiled falsely, "It's ok honey, don't cy - everything's fine."
Brenda pushed Bobby in her wild panic, "Bobby, if they're all dead then who did this, huh? Who the fuck did this?!"
She was screaming, now. It sent disturbing chills down Sam's spine and her heart picked up its pace. It was all so... creepy. Baby Catherine starting crying at this point from all of the aggressive voices she could hear all around. Doug was in a world of his own and didn't even try to comfort her. He just... stared.
"Who's she talking about?!" Mark shouted.
"Bobby, it's them isn't it! It's them!" Brenda sobbed, stumbling about, as though she didn't know where to go, "Shit, shit, oh my god - oh god, they're still out here aren't they!!"
"Alright, stop..." Sam's dad intervened.
"Who's out here?!" Mark yelled, Ruth holding him back.
Charlie cried even harder and Charlotte was having a difficult time trying to comfort him, as she was also rather stressed by the situation. Even Sam's eyes were shimmering with anticipation now. Baby Catherine screamed with distress in Doug's arms.
"What're we gonna' do, Bobby?!" Brenda squealed.
Bobby was gazing at the wheels, still, in utter fear. He had lost any colour in his cheeks and his eyes were watering. Doug looked like he was about to murder someone - Sam almost wanted to take the weeping baby from him, just in case.
"Will someone answer my fucking question!" Mark roared.
"HEY!!" Ralph bellowed.
His voice sliced through the moment like a knife through butter. Everyone stopped and looked at him, except for Brenda who was so terrified that she just couldn't stop crying no matter how hard she tried. Doug snapped back into the moment and instantly started rocking Catherine, although, his eyes were darting about very warily. It was almost as though he was trying to quiet her so that... so that... no one would hear? Ralph came into the center of everyone with his hands up patiently, although his dark eyes held the exact opposite of patience.
"Now... everyone just needs to take a step back... and calm down for a minute," He advised maturely, "None of us have any idea what's going on here, so I think the best option we've got is to jus"-
As Ralph looked up, he paused and his eyes narrowed curiously. One by one, everyone followed his eyesight after each other and, finally, everyone was looking up to the top of a rocky mountain in the horizon. The light reflected in something, a mirror or a piece of glass, and it sparkled furiously for just a split second before disappearing again.
Brenda was crying so hard now that there was no sound coming from her at all. Bobby was stumbling about with her, aimless, while Doug just didn't show anything. What could he show? Ruth held her hand across her sweaty brow and stepped forwards, intrigued.
"I think... I think there's someone up there, you know…" She mused aloud.
Thud
Ruth stepped backwards and everyone heard a faint sort of hiccup from her. Everyone watched her from behind anxiously. Mark, being her beloved husband, stepped up and went towards her in tender concern with his hands out.
"Ruth? Honey?" He called.
Ruth staggered aside and swerved round to face everyone with no balance. The sight was beyond horrifying. Charlotte spun away before Charlie could see and buried his face into her neck, although she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from screaming, unlike everyone else. Ruth parted her lips and a waterfall of blood trickled down her front, where it joined with the blood that was leaking from her stomach, where a single, wooden arrow stuck into her.
Sam's world trembled, her voice burnt as she screamed, almost just as loudly and fiercely as Brenda. Baby Catherine was off again in an instant. Mark caught Ruth as she sank down to the ground and Ralph skipped over to Sam and wrapped her up in his arms just as she turned away to sob. It was a whirlwind of emotions, an explosion of fear that Sam and her friends never thought they would ever experience. They had seen horror films and heard of horrendous, real-life stories from around the world... but never had they felt fear so powerful, so damaging. It was unbearable.
Sam heard Mark's distraught howling and felt her stomach turning. She had no choice. She tore away from her father most violently and crushed down into the dirt beside Bobby where she spilt out her vomit onto the ground. Bobby nearly joined her. Terror. From deep within, scraping at the very foundations of Sam's sanity. It was so excrutiating.
And now she knew why.
Now she knew why Bobby, Brenda and Doug were like that in the auto home.
Why they just couldn't speak.
