PART THREE
THE GOPHER CABIN - 2:19 AM
Behind the walls of the Gopher's cabin, Heather could be heard barking orders to her two teammates. The loud commotion peeked following a crash and a bang; and Heather's irate voice cried, "Owen, watch it!"
"Sorry," the large teen apologized pulling an article of clothing off his head.
"Opps," Lindsay added and innocently threw her arms behind her back. She had been trying to close Heather's overstuffed suitcases when it sprung open; letting various belongings fly loose. A pair of panties had landed precariously onto Owen's head, which in turn made him step onto Heather's foot.
The raven hair girl hopped around in her designer pumps, shooting deadly glares at both of her teammates. She was growing increasingly impatient with them, and regretting that she had let them change and gather their own things first. Her two teammates took longer than she'd expected and now she had to rush them along with her own effects.
Rubbing her foot one last time, she straightened up to berate, "You're both completely useless! Now is everything ready?"
"So, I was thinking it's not such a good idea to go off on our own?" Lindsay began, already expecting a backlash from Heather. The Asian looked up from gathering her scattered things and surprisingly smiled kindly, "Lindsay, there's no need to worry your little head while I'm here. Besides, I don't have bad ideas."
The unperceptive blonde smiled in relief, pushing all her doubt aside.
"And," Heather turned her back to her, "if the killer shows up, I'll need a distraction to get away."
"What did you say?" Lindsay's query startled Heather, who quickly denied, "Nothing!"
Heather feigned another bright smile as she clapped her hands together, drawing the attention of Owen as well, "So, if we're all packed, than we'll head over to the Dock of Shame and wait for the boat to pick us up."
"Great plan!" Owen agreed animatedly, "How do we know the boats are coming?"
"They have to be coming, we're on TV; the public already knows what's happened. Someone has to come and rescue me. So let's go people."
Obediently the two campers moved towards the cabin's exit, Owen had the door half opened when Heather interrupted, "Oh wait. Before we leave the island, I'd love to go see Chris' secret cabin. See what kind of stuff he's been hiding from us."
"Me too!" Lindsay agreed cheerfully, "um, why?"
"Lindsay, stop trying… you're just going to hurt yourself."
"No, really… why?" The larger youth remained puzzled about this sudden change in plans, "Shouldn't we just wait for the boats like you said?"
"Oh come on Owen, it'll be worth it. Think about all the great food he must have stashed there," Heather grinned, knowing exactly how to coerce the food enthusiast.
"Mmm, food," Owen's eyes glazed over dreamily, "Let's go!"
THE MESS HALL - 2:20 AM
"And than there were three," Harold mused as he rotated on the bench. Only Duncan, Courtney and Harold remained in the dinning hall, still sitting at on the same bench. "What was that man?" Duncan's steel blue eyes did not waver from the mocha-haired girl as he questioned.
"Nothin'," Harold responded, "Just talkin' to myself."
"Okay," Duncan said indifferently, and leaned in closer to Courtney. She continued to stare vacantly into space, and now he had the time to focus on breaking through her stupor.
"Hey Princess, can I get you anything? A snack? A drink? Wanna lie down? Wanna make out?" he prodded, positive that the last implication would at least get a reaction from her. She never even blinked.
Even Harold turned his attention towards the girl, surprised to see the visible and genuine concern from Duncan. After all the tormenting that the resident tough guy had dished out, Harold never thought he'd see the man's softer side. Well, at least not see it and live to tell about it.
"Talk to me, please Courtney," he brushed her fallen hair behind her ear. She finally blinked, feebly trying to hold back another torrent of tears. Her head slowly tilted to rest on his shoulder and spoke softly, "Chef told us not to leave. Everyone left."
"Hey, I'm not going anywhere Princess," Duncan wrapped a strong arm around her and she melted into him.
"But when he comes back, he'll be so mad," her voice dropped to a whisper.
"If he comes back," snorted Harold, receiving a dirty glare from Duncan.
"Pft, let him be mad," Duncan scoffed, "Princess if you wanna stay here, we'll stay here."
Courtney nodded slightly and Duncan was satisfied that he had nudge her out of her depression. He turned his attention to the last Bass member, "What about you four eyes?"
"Me?" Harold was surprised to acknowledged at all, "At a time like this, I figure I'm safest near the criminal."
"Duncan did not murder Chris!" Courtney snapped, suddenly towering over the accusing party. Harold paled, sinking down into the bench with nowhere to run from her wrath. He quickly amending his words, practically pleading with her, "I think it was Chef!"
"But why would Chef murder Chris?" Courtney's demeanor softened.
"Why wouldn't he?"
"Can't argue with that," Duncan grimly joked.
"But does that mean... Chef's looking for the murderer as a cover up?" Courtney deduced. It seemed like a possibility, but before the notion could expand, a second terrified scream echoed across the campgrounds. It was defiantly the sound of a woman screaming, and it sounded rather close by. The trio shot up from their bench and raced for the door to investigate where the scream had come from.
THE COMMUNAL BATHS - 2:20 AM
After Bridgette's complaint about needing to use the bathroom, Geoff and a reluctant DJ quickly escorted the young woman to the communal baths. The building's exterior remained dark and macabre, even though the corpse had been relocated. Each of the teens felt their stomachs drop at the thought of being so close to the murder scene. Unfortunately, for the urban breed trio, it was either: use the bathrooms, or a bush.
Almost timidly, Bridgette stepped into the entrance, glancing back at the boys one last time, "Now, you guys aren't going to ditch me, right?"
"Of course not babe," Geoff assured with two thumbs up.
"Are you sure? Not even if you see the killer."
"Why'd you have to go and say that?" DJ moaned.
"Absolutely, now go do your thing." encouraged Geoff, but her stomach continued to turn in knots. The need to go increased so Bridgette finally resigned to entering the lavatory to "do her thing," as her teammate had put it.
The two young men stood on either side of the washroom entrance, purposefully gazing out into the darkness for any sign of trouble. DJ idly cuddled his grey bunny, while Geoff whistled a merry tune and rocked on his feet. To DJ's surprise, Geoff began to pad away from the bathhouse.
"Where you going?" DJ panicked.
"Man, I gotta wiz too."
"What?" DJ spat, cuddling Bunny a little too tightly, "No way man! I'm not standing out here all by myself."
"Yeah, but bro, someone's gotta be here for Bridgette."
"I know, but can't it wait?" DJ's voice raised an octave in fear.
"I'm just gonna go in the bushes. If anything happens, holler."
"Holler' he says," whimpered the Jamaican as his teammate disappeared behind the brush, "Well at least I've got you Bunny."
The muscular teen brought the rabbit closer to his chest for security as an icy breeze passed by. DJ shivered in his white tank top and drawstring pants, half from the cold night air and half from the dread in the pit of his stomach.
He mumbled under his breath that both his companions needed to hurry up with their "business" and get their butts back here. Another chill passed him by and DJ closed his eyes tightly against the cold. Eyes closed to the danger, the young man failed to notice the presence lurking behind him. More importantly, he didn't see the black gloved hand reaching over his shoulder, and dangling a strip of cloth near his face. A sadistic chuckle filled his ears, followed by a low voice resonating from behind, "Tag. You're it."
The brawny youth's eyes flew open a second too late as a heavy weight leapt onto his back. He let go of Bunny instinctively to defend himself, but surprisingly the rabbit did not flee. DJ attempted a futile holler, but the assailant had already gagged him with the tattered piece of cloth. He struggled vehemently to throw the attacker off his back, or somehow alert his teammates of the danger. Arms secured around his neck in a sleeper hold as DJ stumbled backwards, thrashing about violently. The killer resumed laughing in psychotic delight, as if he was simply riding a bucking bronco. Adrenaline pumping, the muscular teen resolved to not go down, until a loud clang of a heavy metal object reverberated in his skull.
DJ's body crashed onto the ground with a subdued thud. The assailant haphazardly tossed a dented frying pan behind his head, and reached inside his blood covered lime-green lab coat. He smiled down at the teen, the sadistic grin of a clown etched permanently on his masked face. From his lab coat, he revealed an unlabeled black container and the clown bends down to lift the unconscious boy's head off the dirt. Bunny's bright-jeweled eyes watched the murder pry open the container with a knife, unable to tell a soul what he was witnessing. Red liquid splattered across the ground and onto the rabbit's fur, startling the small creature off.
THE COMMUNAL BATHS 2:25 AM
The creaky screen door of the communal bathroom gradually squeaked open. Timidly, Bridgette peeked outside, noting immediately that her male escorts were absent. She opened the wooden door completely, leaning out of the frame to get a better view outside.
The cold air nipped at her and she hugged her arms, glad she had at least put her hoodie on over her thin aqua pajamas. Still unable to locate her teammates, Bridgette anxiously called, "Geoff? DJ? This isn't funny you guys!"
Her sandaled footsteps crunched noisily against the gravel and dried grass underneath. No matter how quietly she tiptoed, her steps were deafening in the absolutely stillness. She crept to the right, cautiously glancing around the corner, "Where are you guys?"
No one answered her and no one was hiding there, so she continued to pace around the building, "I swear, if you two think this is a joke, I'll murder you. Please, let it be a joke."
Rounding another corner, Bridgette finally spotted a familiar if not fuzzy face, hopping alongside the base of the bathhouse. She breathed a sigh of relief as she trailed after the fluffy baby rabbit calling his name. Turning around the final corner of the building, Bridgette's heart skipped when she saw that she really was alone. Her heart beat erratically as she scooped Bunny up, noticing for the first time the discoloration on his grey coat. The dark, sticky fluid rubbed off into her palm and she turned her hand gingerly to identify the substance. Blood, her brain warned her as she began to shiver uncontrollably and shrieked in revulsion.
Hope you enjoyed Chapter Three. Seems like few of you are enjoying this fic, and that makes me happy. More to come soon...