PART FIVE
OUTSIDE THE INFIRMARY - 2:49 AM
On the path to the infirmary, the bloodcurdling screams of Heather reached the ears of the five Bass team members. Wildlife from every corner of the forest took refuge as the terrible sound echoed across the island. The small group froze in their tracks, searching for the source of the scream. Courtney latched on tighter to Duncan's strong arm, shutting her eyes to guard herself from the horrible night her.
"Not again," Duncan grumbled, his eyes narrowing.
"Was that Heather… again?" Bridgette inquired, holding tightly onto Geoff's hand. Harold, who was holding onto Bunny, tilted his head up to listen, than nodded boldly, "She's dead."
"That's not funny Harold!" Courtney cried, scowling at the thin geek.
"Wasn't trying to be," he retorted plainly.
"Screw Heather," Duncan interrupted, "We need to find a phone first. Got it?"
Everyone timorously agreed with Duncan as continued to stomp down the path. The infirmary was only a short distance away, but the sullen and tired campers dragged in comparison to their leader's zealous pace. Rounding a patch of evergreens, the delinquent called back to his team, "There's the tent! Hurry, the Gophers' might still be there!"
Spirits briefly renewed, the Bass hurried to enter the green canvas tent. Inside the tent however, the teens met with disappointment at finding the infirmary vacant. None of them could have guessed they'd just missed Gwen and her companions heading back for the lodges moments earlier. A low growl escaped Duncan's throat and he gestured his thumb back towards the forest, "They must be after the video."
"Couldn't we just wait for them?" Geoff suggested, receiving a dark scowl from Duncan.
"I ain't waiting no more. They're probably at Chris' cabin now."
Once more, the young punk stormed off ahead of the group, but this time they followed him more closely. Everyone but Harold, who remained to scrutinize the infirmary's interior. He focused on the rows of empty canvas cots, and the one of the end piled in dirty sheets. Deep in thought, he let out a heavy but thoughtful sigh before backing out of the tent to catch up with his peers.
THE GOPHER CABIN - 3:01 AM
The moment after her revelation that the teens were being hoaxed, Gwen announced that she was, "going back to bed." The goth made good on her word as she stormed off into the forest just to shorten her trek to the campgrounds. If they had waited just a minute longer, they would have met up with the Bass team, but she was too irate to wait for anything.
All pleas for Gwen to slow down or to consider alternatives went unspoken. When the trio reached the cabins, the raven and blue haired girl made quick work of throwing her boots off and leaping into her bunk. In one motion, she yanked the covers over her head, leaving her two teammates to watch her astounded.
"We're going to go talk to the other team," Leshawna motioned for Trent to follow her out of the cabin. Once the creaky cabin door slammed shut, Gwen peeked out from beneath her sheets, satisfied they were gone. Several minutes passed as Gwen tried to relax and fall asleep. She just about felt she might find rest when the cabin door swung open with a loud bang. Her pale fingers held onto the blanket even tighter over her head.
"The other team's gone," Leshawna announced, in a voice not meant to be ignored. Still, the lumpy mass of covered didn't bother to indulge her teammates with a reply. The determined black girl crossed her arms impatiently, "As much as I'd like to go back to bed too, don't you think we should at least find out where they went off to?"
"Don't care," Gwen mumbled, dragging a pillow over her head.
"Gwen, they might be in serious trouble," Trent gently urged.
"Not falling for it, this is nothing more than a B-movie rip off," Gwen's muffled voice exclaimed.
"But even Heather said he was dead," Trent patiently reminded.
"Heather wouldn't know the difference between dead and living if it bit her on the ass!"
Abruptly, the cover was seized off Gwen's curled up form and she sprung up to see Leshawna balling up the sheet in her arms. Both women had a look of deadly resolve plastered on their faces.
"Give it!" Gwen reached out to snatch her sheet back, but Leshawna just sidestepped out of her reach.
"Girl, even if we are being played, we need to see this through. I ain't gonna forfeit this challenge just because you don't wanna get outta bed."
"Fine," Gwen slouched over, dangling her arms from the bed's rail, "We'll go find the Bass team. But we don't even know what the point of this challenge is… besides seeing how gullible we are."
Sluggishly she crawled down from her bunk and snatched up her heavy black boots. Again, the trio headed out into the cold night to search for their fellow campers.
CHRIS' CABIN - 3:21 AM
It was fortuitous for the Bass team that their would-be-leader Duncan had snuck off to their host's hideaway previously to vandalize the premises. Through the dark forest of Wawanakwa, he was able to expertly lead his four teammates to the hidden cabin. The cabin was quite eerie in the shadow of night, no lights shown around the structure expect for the starlight above. The front door swung freely in the breeze, squealing like ambient music as it opened and closed.
"I don't think the Gopher's are here," Bridgette observed. She and Courtney clung tightly to each other while boys scaled the short stairway.
"Probably not," Duncan entered first, blindly feeling the wall for the light switch. After a moment of searching, he turned back to the others sullenly, "Figures. The power's dead."
"It's probably a blown fuse," Harold offered, leaning over the rail to peek around the side of the lodging. His green tinted glasses quickly located an electrical box at the far end of the cabin. Harold swung over the rail to reach the electrical box first. He promptly experimented with each switch, a dull hum notified them he'd found the correct fuse. The flickering yellow glow from the cabin was almost blinding to the Bass team, who had been stumbling around in the dark for so long.
"Duncan, the Gophers aren't here. Why are we wasting our time?" Courtney called to the green haired punk who had disappeared into the dwelling. He stuck his head back out the door as Geoff entered next, "I want to check it out anyway. Maybe the Gopher's haven't gotten here yet. The video of the murder might still be here… and other 'useful' stuff."
"Useful stuff?" Courtney repeated, releasing her friend's arm, "I get it. You just want to go in there and steal from a dead man."
"So?" Duncan shrugged as Harold slithered past him to enter too, "It's not like he'll miss anything."
"You're a pig!"
"Sticks n' stones, Princess." he grinned smugly as he disappeared back into the cabin, leaving the two girls out in the cold. With little choice left, Courtney stormed up the stairs with Bridgette on her heels.
Inside, the five teens stood shocked amidst the ruin of the cabin. It was clear that something violent had happened prior to their arrival. A cream-colored living chair lay next to the entrance, the stuffing spilling out of a huge gash in the back. Dirt from a knocked over plant dotted the floor along with pieces of glass, pottery and torn pieces of magazines and paper. The most telling sign of violence was the spots of crimson red trailing across the floor.
"Looks like we missed one hell of a party," Geoff whistled at the mess.
"Somehow, I think we wanted to miss this little party," Courtney sidestepped the fallen chair to join Duncan again.
Wordlessly, Harold moved towards the archway leading to the kitchen. Like the front room, it appeared as though some struggle had taken place; a loaf of bread, snacks and canned goods littered the floor. He looked to the open pantry, observing the broken doorframe and the halves of a bronze doorknob on the floor. The asthmatic teen stepped around the kitchen island, spotting a butcher wedged into the tile floor.
The others joined behind him as he pried the knife out of the white tiles. Bridgette started at the sight of the blade, but Harold just shrugged, "I'd rather be safe than sorry, duh."
"Man has a point," Duncan approved, breaking out his own switchblade knife. Geoff hastily searched the room for a weapon too, finally spotting a mop against a nearby wall. He unscrewed the handle from the mop head, manufacturing a makeshift staff. Lastly, Courtney reached for a stick flashlight atop the refrigerator. It certainly wasn't a weapon, but on this bleak night, it was defiantly useful.
The Bass team continued to search the house, entering Chris's bedroom next. Sadly, it yielded nothing more than the signs of a struggle like the other rooms. Silently Harold indicated the floor, the trail of blood they'd seen earlier curving into a closed door. Duncan knelt down for a closer look, while Harold hazarded a guess in a low voice, "Either the killer is hiding in there… or that's the bathroom."
Standing, the punk swatted away the geek and signaled for his other teammates to back away. Pressing himself tightly to the wall, Duncan carefully reached for the doorknob. Everyone gasped when he forcefully pushed the door open and leapt in shouting a fierce battle cry. The teens held their breath in anticipation, but Duncan just remained in the doorway, oddly pensive. The others gathered behind him to see what had left their toughest team member so speechless.
"Geez," Harold's eyes widened before he blacked out. Within the room was the monitoring equipment the camper's had suspected was in this cabin. On the wall was a collection of TV screens, all but one white with snow and buzzing static. The control panel below had been violently smashed and ribbons of film lay spread across it. More startling than the mess was the second body of the night, bloodied and broken underneath a leather roll-around-chair. The chair covered the man's face, but his dark, muscular and tattooed body was instantly familiar. The one TV that still functioned looped the few seconds of footage of what had transpired here before they had arrived. A clown-masked man entered the room, an axe at his side, startling the occupant seated at the console. The man was Chef and he sprung out of his chair to face the intruder, clearly alarmed. That was all the footage provided them, as it looped back to the moment of the killers entry. Chef now lay dead on the floor, the same axe carried by the clown protruding from his chest.
"Guess the murderer wasn't Chef," Duncan seemed harshly detached as he spoke. Courtney burst into tears at that instant, while Bridgette fled cabin covering her face. Geoff was quick to chase after the blonde calling her name out as he ran down the steps. Broodingly, Duncan closed the door leading Courtney back down the hall. There wasn't much more any of them needed to see of the murderer's handy work.
A/N: As promised, chapter 5 by Saturday at the latest. Working on Chapter 6 now too, but I probably won't get it done before I have to run off to work. Quite the pickle the campers have themselves in, eh? Are the Gophers right, is this all an elaborate hoax to freak the TDI crew out? Or is it real, as the Bass team would conclude with Chef added to the body count? And who is that masked clown? Guess you'll just have to keep reading to find out.
Oh, and go check out my TDI artwork at minako25... you shant be disapointed