PART SEVEN
OUTSIDE CHRIS' CABIN 3:56 AM
"Geoff," the named echoed endlessly against the wall of trees, "Where are you?"
A single light scanned the outskirt of the forest for any sign of the familiar tan cowboy hat worn by their missing comrade. The group stayed relatively close together in their exploration, not wanting to chance a second disappearance.
"Geoff! Come back!" Bridgette cupped her mouth to boost her volume.
"Get your ass back here now!" Duncan abrasively joined.
"You don't suppose?" Bridgette fretted, taking hold of Courtney's arm for support. The brunette answered with the fear and concern pooled in her own brown eyes. She quickly averted her gaze, resolving herself to stay focused on scanning the landscape. The sound of movement caught her attention and her flashlight was instantly spotlighting the source. A lone figure arose from the forest cover, hunched over so that only the familiar hat was visible. It was enough for Courtney to cry hastily towards him, "There he is!"
Oddly, their fun loving companion made no response to her call. He stood their stoically staring down at the earth, just lurking at the woods edge. Even so, Bridgette unhesitatingly shortened the distance between them. Her vigorous walk slowed as she expressed her relief, "Geoff, we thought we'd lost you."
Again, he said nothing, fixated on the ground. The overwhelming relief that the blond girl felt began to dissolve, her instincts screaming that something was amiss. Her voice quivered as she repeated his name once more. This time he answered in a low chuckle that resonated deep within his chest. The man raised his head up high to reveal that he was never Geoff. All color and breath left the girl at the sight of the blood speckled clown mask and tattered green lab coat.
"That's not Geoff," Harold coolly observed. The killer displayed his weapon of choice to the teens, than he abruptly launched himself towards Bridgette. The girl's shrill scream ricocheted against the surrounding forest. Courtney screamed too, calling out her roommate's name, while Harold began to back up. Yet while they had the instinct to flee, Duncan lunged to reach his teammate first.
With the killer only a few steps away, Bridgette was convinced she was dead. Her green eyes stayed on the clown as she clumsily stepped back. Her foot slipped on the wet grass underfoot, sending the blonde tumbling onto her bottom. Slender legs flew up into the air just as the killer reached his victim, and he had no way to stop himself from tripping over her. The teen winced as he collided with her, but the opportunity to escape had opened itself he landed face first into the dirt.
In a heartbeat, Bridgette scrambled back to her feet and rushed to meet Duncan half way. He didn't stop for her tough, instead giving her a hard shove towards her awaiting teammates. A sadist grin played on the juvenile's face as he cracked his knuckles, "It's on now, joker. You picked the wrong camp."
"Duncan no!" Courtney implored, sensing a reckless streak in him. She yanked the back of his black t-shirt, forcing him to look at her pleading eyes. Silently she begged him to keep his promise from earlier and not leave her side. His steel eyes softened, and reluctantly he nodded, taking her hand. If she hadn't been there, he would have engaged the killer.
The clown-masked man stood, dusting off the dirt and mud from his lime green coat. He glanced up to see his quarry escaping into the forest, abandoning their missing friend and the map. Cracking his neck from side to side, the hunter casually paced after his prey. Frightened and exhausted, they wouldn't be hard to catch.
THE PATH 4:11 AM
Bridgette's terrified screams ricocheted across the sky, reaching the ears of Trent and Gwen. They had almost reached Chris' cabin, running for their own lives. Both teens froze on the spot, listening for the source of the screams.
"Did that come from the cabin?" Gwen wheezed, holding her chest while she gasped.
"How did he get ahead of us?" Trent wondered, also short of breath. They'd been running from the clown killer earlier, but had lost sight of him in their haste. It was hard to tell where the screams were coming from too; the voice seemed to echo from all directions.
"I don't know. Maybe he's run into the other team. We could catch up with them."
"Right, let's hurry. It probably is at the cabin," Trent agreed, taking her pale hand in his. The cabin wasn't much further away and the orange glow of the lights signaled them like a beacon. The pair stepped onto the opened lawn surrounding the cabin, but saw no sign of the other campers.
They investigated the cabin next, quiet as mice, wary of every corner they turned and every shadow surrounding them. The cabin remained in the same shambled state as the Bass team had left it earlier. Swallowing apprehensively, Gwen dared to speak out, "Hello?"
Though her raspy voice was barely above a whisper, it resonated against the walls of the deathly silent room. Not a sign of life stirred in the cabin and Gwen shrugged to her teammate. Trent returned the gesture and motioned towards the kitchen. They glanced over the empty room, and made the rounds to the vacant bedroom. It left only the closed door adjacent to the bedroom, and they both regretted opening it.
"Sick," whispered the Goth, shutting the door immediately after. Trent's completion turned green after only a glimpse of the bloodied mess inside. Instinctually Gwen rubbed his back to comfort him, even though she felt similar revulsion. She'd seen enough cadavers in one night to last her a lifetime. Forcing a smile, he raised his hand up to indicate that he would recover.
"Any doubts now?" the musician inquired, heading back to the exit.
"I'm convinced," she admitted, following him closely out the cabin. On the porch, they decided to try one more sweep of the area for their fellow campers before moving on. They'd barely taken a step on the grass when Trent started at the crunching of something other than leaves. Checking underfoot, he lifted up the dampened and crumpled map that the Bass had discovered earlier. Beside the map was the familiar tan cowboy hat that belonged to Geoff. Gwen thoughtfully picked up the hat, dusting off the dirt and grass while her partner inspected the map.
"It's a map of the island, and the north side is marked," Trent observed.
"What's there?"
"Says 'Boat of Losers' with a question mark. Do you suppose the others figured out a way off the island?"
"Could be. Getting out of Dodge seems like a good plan. We'll be no worst off going that way than standing around here."
Trent agreed, rolling up the map and using it to point the way north. Gently Gwen moved his arm 90 degrees left to true north and smiled knowingly. He chuckled nervously to himself at his own error. Feeling a little more lighthearted and hopeful, the pair set out into the woods towards the dock. If their assumptions were correct, they would run into the rest of the campers there and be able to get off the island.
SOMEWHERE IN THE FOREST 4:15 AM
None of the Bass knew how much distance they'd put between themselves and the killer. Despite the obstacle course of trees and earth surrounding them, they were able to move rather smoothly through the forest. Their fear peeked and adrenaline pumping; all that mattered to now was surviving.
Duncan headed the escape, followed closely by Courtney. She didn't have much choice but to keep pace with him though, since he was dragging her by her wrist. Harold and Bridgette weren't far behind, but both teens were visibly struggling to keep up. Unaware of her footing, Bridgette unexpectedly snagged her sandal on a root. The girl yelped aloud, alerting the others as she hit the ground.
Bridgette pushed herself up, drawing her knee up to her chest. Scraps and bruises dotted her leg, but the injury she favored was her ankle. The Bass team gathered around her, immediately questioning her condition.
"Leave me!" Bridgette shockingly ordered her peers.
"Okay," Harold agreed, but Duncan snatched his pajama's arm to stop him.
"Absolutely not," Courtney knelt to face her friend, "We're all getting off this island together."
"No we're not," Bridgette resolved, tears pooling in her eyes, "the others, they're gone. Geoff… oh my God, Geoff."
"Bridgette… we… we're not going to leave you," Courtney wrapped her arms around her now sobbing roommate. She tried her best to act strong, but tears were cascading down her cheeks too.
"I think you should."
"This is no time to play the martyr Bridge," Duncan barked, "Geoff wouldn't want you to quit."
"I know… and, I won't quit," she assured, whipping away her tears, "but I'm just slowing you guys down. So, leave me, I'll hide myself real good until you guys come back with help."
"But Bridgette, you're terrified of the forest," Courtney gently reminded.
"Yeah, I was trying not to think about that," Bridgette tried to laugh, "besides psychotic clown guy… lot scarier."
A branch snapped in the distance, causing the girls to gasp in alarm. The campers looked frantically for any sign of their pursuer, but he was not in sight. The crunching dead leaves signaled that he was nearing them. Courtney's eyes desperately pleaded with her bunkmate but Bridgette silently waved them to go. There was no more time, and Duncan lifted Courtney up, clenching his teeth as he warned, "Don't you dare get caught Bridge."
She bravely smiled, careful to stay quiet with the killer so close. She watched them disappear into the maze of trees and cautiously stood. Listening vigilantly, she attempted to pinpoint the location of their assailant. The crunching became ever closer and her heart raced faster with each step. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of the murderer hidden behind the clown mask.
Bridgette's presence went unnoticed, and he continued straight for the path her friends had taken. Her eyes darted from the man to the forest and back again. A million thoughts ran through her mind the further away from her he paced. Feelings of regret filled her as she thought of what a hindrance she'd been all night. She had clumsily slowed them down at every turn and forced the boys to protect her. She even thought she'd inadvertently been the cause of DJ's disappearance. Even now, she was uselessly hiding behind a tree. Revelation dawned on her, and as stupid of an idea as it was, she knew what she needed to do.
"Catch me if you can, asshole," she murmured before darting boldly and noisily behind the murderer. Not daring to look back, Bridgette knew that he'd gotten her message when she heard the motor of his carving knife rev up again.
Her ankle stung viciously with every awkward step she took as she clumsily tried to navigate the green labyrinth. There was no stopping now, and she was oddly relieved when she chanced a look back to see the clown was still pursuing her. It was a fatal mistake to loose sight of her surroundings though and Bridgette turned back just in time to see the tree, but not avoid it.
Dazed and confused, the teen lay in the dirt, gingerly rubbing her forehead. She had enough wits left to remember her stalker and sit up again. Turning on her rear, she saw he was mere feet away from her, ready with his bloody weapon.
Bridgette's hands blindly searched the forest floor until it secured a sizable fallen branch. The clown masked murderer stood over her, raising his buzzing knife ominously above his head. Her only chance was now and she struck the killer's kneecap with all her strength.
"Son of a..." he dropped his knife to hold his throbbing knee. Bridgette sprung to her feet, and darted past her adversary believing the injury would be enough to delay him. It was another mistake on her judgment as he reached around her long ponytail and jerked her down to the ground. Her eyes burnt with tears and she cried out as her back collided with the unforgiving earth.
"That hurt!" the killer breathed, pressing his heavy boot onto her stomach, effectively pinning her down, "What exactly were you thinking?"
"That you took Geoff away from me," she choked, the fight in her draining away, "I had nothing to loose."
"That's pretty gutsy," he forced her up by her shoulder.
Bridgette cringed, standing helpless before her executioner. The clown mask smiled wickedly at her, but her eyes averted into the endless forest. Her thoughts drifted to her friends, and she wondered if she'd given them enough time.
A/N: Don't kill me! This was probably an intense chapter, I know. Oh and to annoymous - I can't tell you if Owen is dead or not. It's part of the suspense. And on a completely random note - freeze dried space icecream... is strange.