Chapter 3: No More Mr. Nice Guy

Of course, there was no sign of Tara's brother when they got back to the spot where they'd kicked him out. Everyone got out to stretch their legs, hug Willow and decide what to do next. The sun was beating down, causing them to sweat and squint as they scanned their surroundings for any sign of where he might have gone.

"OK", Buffy started. "We didn't see any other cars in the last half hour, so he probably didn't hitch a ride with anyone else, which means the farm must be around here somewhere. Some of these backroads look kinda bumpy though, I'm not sure the van can handle them..."

"There's also the matter of petrol", Giles pointed out. "Unless there's a filling station within the next few miles, I don't fancy the idea of driving up and down to every single farm... chances are we'll be stuck with an empty tank."

Xander nodded and opened the rear hatch of the van to grab a few water bottles. "So we split up and go on foot. Ask around. Someone around here must know where the Maclays live."

"And if they've hurt her", Willow growled as she grabbed a battle axe from the trunk and almost toppled over from its weight, "I'll bash their friggin' heads in."

Buffy shook her head and easily pried the axe from Willow's fingers. "Will, listen to me. I'm afraid for Tara too, but there will be no bashing! Of anybody! These are human beings we're dealing with, don't forget that. Now, you and Giles go that way, Xander and Anya over there", Buffy gestured back and forth, "me and Dawn follow the road, and we meet up back here when it gets dark, OK?"

No one had any objections, and so loading up on water and putting on various hats and baseball caps to shelter them from the blazing sun they set out in different directions.

Buffy walked along the side of the road, with Dawn trudging after her, bitching and whining about how she was tired and it was too hot to be walking and why couldn't she have stayed at home anyway?

"Because it's not sa... because Mom needs to take it easy for a few days. And besides, this morning you were more than happy to miss out on school."

"That was before we got stuck in the Sahara desert. I wanna go home."

"Too bad. The only way you're getting home before we've found Tara is by hitch-hiking." Buffy paused. "You're NOT gonna hitch-hike."

"I saw this movie once where a girl stopped cars by pulling up her shirt and showing her bra", Dawn grumbled. "I could do that if I wanted to. Tara had better be in trouble..." The second the words were out her mouth Dawn regretted them.

Buffy spun around and glared at her. "Don't you even joke about that!"

"Oh yeah, you're one to talk! You don't even like Tara. You never even talk to her."

"I –" Buffy stopped herself and regarded the girl she had always thought of as her sister... no, wait, not always, just a few weeks... God, this is tricky. "Dawn, it's not that I don't like Tara, I just... don't know her that well, and we never seem to find anything to talk about. But she's everything to Willow, and that makes her part of the family no matter how new she is to us. Tell you what, once we get out of here I'll make an effort to get to know her better, OK?"

If there was any subtext to that, Dawn didn't pick up on it. "Fine. Whatever. Let's just find her." She kicked at something on the side of the road, then leaned down and picked it up. "Buffy, what's thi... ewwww!" She tossed it away, disgusted, and Buffy walked over to look.

At first, she just saw a bundle of fur and bone, then she realized what she was looking at and almost threw up. The fur – and feathers – were a couple of small animals, mice and sparrows. They'd been tied together with barbwire and fixed to a couple of bones that looked... no way. They had to be from an animal, because seriously, what were the odds of finding human bones lying by the side of a Texas road? The bundle had obviously been lying here a while since at least two of the animals had started rotting, and as she held the thing, she saw white maggots squirming in the eyes of one of the mice. Incredibly, though, one of the birds was still alive and tweeted helplessly at her. Buffy stared at the contraption for a few seconds – she couldn't quite get rid of the idea that whatever sick mind did this, they must have considered it a work of art – before tossing it far into the bush. She took a few deep breaths, reached for the water bottle and splashed some in her face.

"Buffy... who would do something like that?" Dawn was almost as green in the face as her sister was.

"Dunno. Some sick kid, probably." Buffy pointed up ahead. "Here's one farm. Let's see if they know where Tara's folks live."

They walked up to the main building and knocked. A kindly-looking woman in her mid-40s opened, wiping her hands on a towel. "Oh hi honey, what can I do you for?"

"Hi, sorry to bother you. We're looking for a friend who lives somewhere around here, but we can't seem to find her house, and I was wondering you could tell me where it is?"

"Sure thing honey, I know just about every square foot of this county."

"Oh thank you! Her family name is Maclay, and they live on a farm called Sawy-"

All kindness disappeared from the woman's face in a heartbeat. "Never heard of it. Get off my property before I call the sheriff." The door slammed shut.

Giles and Willow had knocked on two farmhouses to ask directions, but both of the women they had talked to made it very clear that they had never heard of a place called Sawyer Farm or a Maclay family, no way, never, nuh-uh, nope, and then slammed the door in their faces. The sun was starting to sink in the west as Giles pointed across a field at another house. "Cannot be more than a mile away. I suggest we ask there and then go back to the car, it will be dark within the hour." He started across the field, then turned back to Willow who made no attempt to follow him. "Are you coming?"

Willow was still holding the doll's eye crystal, and now she stared intently at it as she shook her head. Then she took off her backpack, sat down and started rummaging through it, coming up with a spellbook. Giles sighed and knelt down beside her. "Willow, I really don't think that's a good idea. I realize you're upset..."

"UPSET? This isn't upset, Giles! This is angry, and scared, and frustrated, and tired, and scared, a-and I know I said that already, but you're all joking about music and planning field trips to meat factories while Tara might be getting... did you even SEE Wrong Turn? And I know you and Buffy are still freaked by me and Tara but could you at least pretend to care? If you want to go waltzing around Texas asking stupid questions, fine, but I'm going to find my girlfriend!"

"Willow..." Giles chose his words carefully. "No one is, uh, 'freaked'. I admit we all were at first, except perhaps Xander, but Tara is an extraordinary woman – even more so if what you say about her family is true – and what you two have is something wonderful. I think I can relate a little to what you must going through right now – I do have some experience in the matter, as you recall. But that's exactly the reason why you shouldn't be using magic. Magic requires a calm mind, emotional control. If you were to attempt it in your current state you might end up hurting yourself or someone else. If you want to fall apart I completely understand, but the rest of us are trying to help you and need to keep a cool head to do that." He wiped the sweat out of his eyes. "As far as possible in this weather."

Sullenly, Willow ran her fingers over the pages of the spellbook before putting it away and getting to her feet with a deep sigh. "You're right, I guess. I'm just tired. It's been a long day. OK, so we try one more house and then go back and decide what to do next." She didn't need to add that she would have some ideas of what that might be.

"Finally", Anya muttered. She and Xander had been walking for miles before coming to the only farm they could find on their side of the road. Anya figured she could understand why no one would want to live near these people, they didn't seem to take much care in keeping up appearences; the yard was littered with rusted cars, tractors and farm equipment which looked like it hadn't been used since Coolidge was president. "I thought road trips were supposed to be fun, not sweaty and angsty."

"Yeah", Xander glared at her, "if I have any more fun today I don't think I'm gonna be able to take it. Hello? Anybody home?" He knocked on the screen door, which swung open with a creak revealing a hallway that smelled dirty and dusty. He walked inside. "Hello?"

"Xander, you probably shouldn't do that. Texans protect their homes with firearms, as is their right according to the –"

"Please, Anya, can the editorial wait? I'm just looking. Hellooo?" Xander walked along the hallway, looked up the stairs, and then checked the first room on the left. "Uh... Ahn, come look at this." They both walked in to what looked like a gallery for artist demons. The whole room was filled with mobiles, sculptures and various constructions. All of them stunk like death, which made sense since they were made of body parts – mostly chickens and cows, mostly just bones, but feathers and rotting meat still clung to some of them. And some of them were...

Anya pointed at one of the contraptions. "Xander – those are human skulls." They both stared at it, fighting the gag reflex and too stunned to hear the floorboards creaking behind them.

"Oh no... I've been in this movie before. Everybody out of the pool." Xander turned around and found himself face to face with a huge man. Well, not exactly face to face, since the man's features were hidden behind a mask that looked like... Xander had time to refuse to believe that the mask was made from an actual human face before a sledgehammer came down on his head, killing him instantly.

Anya just stared as Xander's body collapsed, a gush of blood splashing out across the floor and ruining her sneakers. Before she had time to react, Xander's attacker grabbed her and started hauling her further inside the house. For a few seconds all she could feel was shock; everything
(Xander?)
was happening too fast. She started screaming and trying to fight back as she was carried inside a room with a large butcher's table, brown from years of bloodshed, but the man was way too strong to even notice her fists pounding him. As he lifted her up, she looked behind her and had time to think that that meat hook looked way too rusty to pass inspection at any slaughterhouse she'd been to. The pain when she was impaled on it was so blindingly white she couldn't even scream anymore. Time lost all meaning. When she opened her eyes again, the small part of her mind that wasn't busy screaming HURTS HURTS HURTS HURTS could only watch as Leatherface tossed her dead boyfriend onto the table, fired up the chainsaw and started taking Xander's body apart.

Author's note: Leatherface of Texas Chainsaw Massacre is the intellectual (if you can call him that) and possibly legal property of Tobe Hooper. Remakes featuring "7th Heaven" stars suck. And we're barely getting started.