Chapter 5

The underside of the bed was surprisingly less dusty than she'd expected. When Tommy had told her to crawl underneath, Deborah's mind had filled with images of dust bunnies as big as small rodents and massive spiderwebs laced across the narrow space. In reality, there were no spiderwebs at all, and only a little dust lurking in the corners. Kenny had done a surprisingly good job of cleaning, she thought.

Kenny.

A twinge of guilt pierced her heart as she thought about him. Was it her fault he'd gotten caught? He'd been talking to her after all, and probably paying more attention to her questions than to his surroundings. Deborah tightened her grip around the fuse in her hand. They just had to get out of here and call for help; after all, Kenny died making sure they knew where the fuses were at. If they didn't get that call off, then his death would just be too cruel and pointless.

That was assuming they could get rid of Jason Voorhees, of course.

The heavy footsteps were in the hallway now, but Deborah couldn't guess where exactly he was. There was, however, a distinctly unpleasant smell creeping through the upstairs of the lodge. It reeked of mud and mold and decomposing plant matter, but most of all was the sickening scent of decaying flesh. She swallowed hard, trying to keep down the bile that threatened to creep into her mouth just from the stench.

The footsteps grew closer and she could hear the door across the hall get flung open and slam into a dresser behind the door with a loud thud. Jason hadn't found them, and she nearly let herself relax. A tiny, horrible part of herself couldn't shake the knowledge that it was just a matter of time before Jason figured out where they were. She almost wished he'd hurry up in that case; hiding under the bed was cramped and uncomfortable, and even without it being as dusty as she'd feared, there was still enough left that her nose was beginning to tickle.

Moments later, the door to the bedroom they were in slammed open, crashing into a nearby desk and sending a collection of bottles crashing to the floor from the cubbies they were in. The resulting clatter was so startling that Deborah instinctively tensed up, taking in a deep breath of putrid, dusty air as she did so. Thankfully, even though startled she made very little noise, but the tickling, burning sensation in her nose had only gotten worse.

From her narrow viewpoint under the bed, Deborah could barely see anything, save for a pair of ratty-looking boots, moving around with each heavy footstep as Jason searched for his prey. He didn't speak or make much of any noise besides the ponderous footsteps, but to Deborah it appeared that he'd lost track of them. She watched his boots wander around the end of the bed towards the window, and then back towards the door. Just as he was stepping back into the hall, the tickle in Deborah's nose got decidedly worse. Knowing exactly what it meant, she held her breath, hoping to stop the sneeze from erupting out and drawing attention to her hiding place.

It worked. Almost. There was no massive sneeze but instead, a muffled, strangled sound that made her nose and throat burn from the effort. But at the same time, it certainly wasn't silent. The boots that had just made their way to the hall turned around and stalked back over to the bed she was hiding under, stopping right in front of her face. Deborah's grip on the fuse tightened as she realized just how much danger she was in, with no easy way to escape her hiding place.

The bedframe limited her view to a very narrow range, but from the wardrobe across the room Tommy could see everything clearly. Jason had stopped right beside her, that much they both could see, but only Tommy could see him raising his machete with intent to stab through the bed. A surge of adrenaline kicked in, and with seconds to spare Tommy burst out from his hiding place, the bat clutched in both hands. His first blow was directed at the back of Jason's knees with enough force to cause them to buckle and throw his huge adversary off balance. Then, he swung for the back of Jason's head, taking advantage of his lack of balance to force Jason to topple forwards. With one final swing, Tommy swung the bat down across Jason's shoulders, driving him further off-balance and shattering the bat.

Deborah had noticed Tommy's feet joining Jason's beside the bed, and she'd already started crawling backwards out from under the bed. It was slow going, however, and only her feet were showing out from under the bed by the time Tommy had finished his last strike. Moments later, she felt hands grip her feet and tug as hard as they could, yanking her the rest of the way out and pulling her sweater up nearly to her armpits. As soon as she was free, Tommy was pulling her up to a standing position, then grabbing her wrist and dragging her out of the room and down the hall. She staggered after him, attempting to straighten out her sweater with her free hand while also holding on to the fuse in her other.

They ran down the stairs as fast as they could, the fear of falling from carelessness easily overwhelmed by the sound of footsteps in the hall above. Nearly directly in front of the last step was a door to one of the back rooms, and Tommy flung the door open, waiting for Deborah to run through before slamming it shut and fastening the lock. Before Tommy said anything, before he even had a real chance to examine the room they were in, Deborah was opening the back window. It was a decent drop on the other side, but not all that bad really, and Deborah knew it was their only escape. Carefully she climbed out through the window and dropped out of view, but the soft thump and lack of any cries of pain let Tommy know she'd gotten out safely.

The door to the room shook suddenly, accompanied by the sound of splintering wood as Jason struck it with his machete. Were he alone, Tommy might have stayed where he was, intending to confront his nemesis again, but the insistent tugging of obligation drew his attention away. There was something he needed to do first. Again, Jason struck the door and large cracks were already forming in the wood. Tommy ran for the other side of the room, vaulting over the couch in the center on his way and hopping through the open window. He landed with a jolt on his feet in the dirt outside, the impact rattling his teeth painfully. This time, however, it was Deborah who grabbed his wrist and tugged him along before he was ready.

"There's cabins to the north," she whispered as she pulled him away from the house, towards the main road. "We can hide there." Behind them, the window they'd just left erupted outwards in a shower of broken glass. They were far enough away that none of the shards could reach them, but instinctively, Deborah flinched. She let go of Tommy's hand to attempt to cover her head and quickened her steps to put as much distance between the house and herself. Part of a log fence loomed ahead of her, and she ran along it until she came to the end, headed for the long cabin just to the west.

Several of the windows on the cabin were shuttered and Deborah was in far too much of a rush to even attempt to open them. But further along, one of the windows had been left alone, so she ran towards it. As she approached, Deborah glanced back over her shoulder to check on Tommy and her steps abruptly faltered at what she saw.

When Jason had broken the window behind them, Deborah had let go of Tommy's hand without meaning to and the two of them had gotten separated. Not by much and certainly not on purpose, but Deborah knew the way to the northern cabins and Tommy didn't, on top of being greatly distracted. The ground was rocky and uneven and dotted by many small trees, which would be bad enough to run across without the added distraction of glancing around for signs of pursuit. As a result, Tommy lagged behind and was several feet behind Deborah when she stopped to check on him. That, however, was not what had made her pause.

It was the sight of Jason Voorhees melting out of the shadows behind Tommy like a wraith, before reaching out to grab him around the throat. One great hand gripped Tommy's neck like a vice while the other was placed on the side of his head, holding him steady and attempting to snap his head clean off his shoulders. Pain and exertion clouded Tommy's eyes for a moment as he struggled to get free, placing his own hand on the side of his head opposite Jason's and pushing back as hard as he could. His own heartbeat pounded in his ears, drowning out all but the faintest hint of Deborah calling out for him as he fumbled in the pocket of his jeans for the knife he'd placed there. Still struggling against Jason's attempts to kill him, Tommy flicked the knife open and stabbed back over his shoulder with all his might.

The hands released him abruptly as Jason stumbled back, the knife buried in his shoulder. It was less out of pain than surprise, but it was enough for Tommy to get free. As soon as he could, Tommy bolted for the house, gasping for air as he ran. The window behind Deborah wasn't open and Jason wouldn't be stunned long, so Tommy was forced to act on instinct.

It was a move he couldn't have done again if he'd tried. He dodged towards the house as he ran, flinging out one arm and catching Deborah around the shoulders. With an almost balletic grace, he spun on his toe, flung the other arm around her as well and pulled her arms in close, then he bent his knees, gathered all his remaining strength, and leapt backwards through the closed window.

Fragments of glass filled the air around them as they fell, for a moment sparkling in the moonlight like crystal. Then, came the hard jolt as Tommy's back and head made contact with the floor, followed immediately by the sudden weight of Deborah's body on top of his chest. The pressure drove what little air was still in his lungs out of his mouth in a pained gasp, but for a few seconds all either one of them could feel was the faint leaden sensation of relief.

The moment of respite was not to last, however. Jason was almost certainly free from his momentary shock, and would no doubt be along any moment to find them in the cabin. Deborah found herself tossed onto the floor as Tommy rolled over, and she glanced back at him, only to discover Tommy waving her towards one of the several bunks around the room, before rolling underneath one of his own. Fighting back an exhausted whimper, Deborah slid under the bed, still clutching the phone fuse tightly to her chest.

Her bed was across from Tommy's, though a bit further down the room, though she could barely see him until her eyes began to adjust to the darkness. He lay nearly completely still and she assumed he was likely trying to make as little noise as possible, but from the way his chest was heaving she knew he was struggling. She herself was winded a bit from the sprint to the cabin, but she couldn't imagine what Tommy must be feeling after nearly having his neck snapped.

Deborah's palms were getting sweaty from the continuing stress, and it was getting harder to keep a tight hold on the fuse. She didn't dare put it down though, after the number of times she'd misplaced things over the past week including that blasted water bottle she'd managed to lose sometime since meeting with Eric that afternoon. Holding the fuse was the only way to be sure it was safe, but her arms were growing so tired now, and having to hold perfectly still was growing unbearable. She waited with dread for the sound of heavy footsteps coming her way.

But they didn't come.

Minutes passed, and slowly the tension ebbed out of her body, bringing with it a nagging tiredness and a faint ache as well. There was no way of telling what time it was now, not curled up in the dark under a bed, but it was definitely getting close to midnight, if it wasn't already past. Staying up this late wasn't exactly something she was used to, and the absence of adrenaline left her weary, but she didn't dare move until Tommy did.

As if on cue, Tommy slowly slid out from under his bed, and Deborah followed suit, though slightly less silently than Tommy had. Outside, the loud chirps of crickets seemed to whisper that they were safe for the moment, and Deborah flicked her flashlight on, bathing the room in bright white light. When she glanced at Tommy's face, she gasped and took a few steps closer to him, raising a hand towards it. Immediately Tommy flinched away, and she drew her hand back, but continued to stare at him.

His cheeks and forehead were smeared with blood, oozing from tiny cuts criss-crossing his face. She'd seen blood before obviously, she'd even seen a decapitated head today. Yet somehow, this time it felt like the world was falling away from her. "Tommy, you're bleeding!" she said softly. A small part of her couldn't help cringing at how obvious her statement was, but at the same time she felt like it needed to be said somehow. Tommy frowned, looking a bit uncomfortable at the attention.

"It's nothing, it doesn't hurt. We need to keep moving-"

"You're going nowhere like that," Deborah insisted, placing a hand on his chest and pushing until he stepped back. The backs of Tommy's knees hit the edge of the bed and they buckled, forcing him to sit on the bunk with a thump and a squeak of springs. "It's disgusting and unsanitary out there, and I'm not having you get an infection from running around with open cuts! Stay put!" Deborah marched down the length of the room to the small bathroom, heading straight for the first-aid kit that was stashed inside. Her hands shook as she picked it up, and she carried it back to the bunk where Tommy still sat with faltering steps.

That sudden moment of courage she'd felt was lost by the time she sat down and shifted her flashlight so she could see to rummage through the box, not able to look up at Tommy just yet. It had been so unlike her to take charge like that and she hadn't meant to be so forceful, but when he'd tried to insist they leave, something had just come over her. Now, though, she felt a sudden reluctance to actually follow through with cleaning his wounds. Deborah didn't consider herself squeamish really, in fact she'd done quite well with first aid training over the past week, but something about the situation, or perhaps the subject, sent butterflies into her stomach.

"This will probably sting a little," she said, spraying a some antiseptic spray onto a pad of gauze, then gently placing it on a set of cuts on the edge of Tommy's jaw. As soon as the gauze touched his face, Tommy flinched and cried out, causing Deborah to retract her hand as well as if she'd been struck. She tried again, and once more he flinched away with a strangled sound. "It wouldn't hurt so much if you'd just sit still!" Realizing that nothing was going to keep Deborah from cleaning his cuts, Tommy gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, but held still for her. Only the occasional gasp for breath through clenched teeth or choked noise let her know that it still hurt.

Disinfecting his wounds didn't take much work or time, once Tommy finally let her work, but it did require her to get fairly close to his face. And suddenly, she pinpointed the source of the butterflies. In the barn earlier she'd unintentionally noticed that he seemed to have a good physique, and his voice before that had been the factor that made her trust him so much, but she hadn't paid much attention to his face. Now she had no choice not to, and it wasn't escaping her notice that even with his face contorted with pain, Tommy Jarvis was far more good looking than she'd initially thought. Hello butterflies, goodbye confidence.

Finally, Deborah lowered her hand. "Okay, that's it. Just- don't go rubbing your face in dirt or anything, okay? I don't think I can put bandages on your cuts." Tommy opened his eyes, but Deborah dropped her gaze to her lap as she set about putting the now bloody gauze in a small plastic bag, so that she could better dispose of it. Her attention was so focused on what she was doing, as well as not paying attention to Tommy, that the feeling of a gauze pad touching her cheek and the immediate burning pain that came after it nearly caused her to fall off the bed.

She cried out in pain, before snapping her head to look Tommy square in the eyes. "That hurt!" she snapped, for a moment losing control and nearly shouting.

"It wouldn't if you sat still," Tommy replied. The tiniest hint of an smile played at the corner of his mouth, and his pale eyes glittered impishly. Deborah sighed. After spending that time cleaning his cuts, she couldn't exactly tell him to leave hers alone either. Resigning herself to her fate, she closed her eyes, and moments later she felt Tommy carefully remove the glasses from her nose.

She had barely even noticed she had any cuts until he'd drawn attention to it, and now she could feel them throbbing faintly. Of course, each time the gauze touched her face, the faint throbbing turned into burning agony for a few seconds, but somehow she'd gotten off lighter than Tommy had. The pain made her eyes water, and as soon as he finished she pulled the cuffs of her sweater down over her palms and dabbed at her eyes. Salt water would hurt just as bad as the disinfectant, and she was tired of crying today anyway.

Carefully she put her glasses back on, then gathered up the rest of the gauze and the can of antiseptic spray and put the first aid kit back together. Still gazing at her hands, she stood up to put it all back in the bathroom, but paused for a moment. With her head still bowed, Deborah swallowed hard, then took a deep breath, before glancing up at Tommy through her eyelashes. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"Yeah." Tommy's reply was equally soft, and she barely heard it before she darted back to the bathroom and put the box back on its shelf. When she got back, Tommy was sitting with his elbows on his knees and his fingers steepled before him, his head bowed and clearly lost in thought. He didn't look up when she stopped beside him, only inhaled deeply before speaking. "How do we get to the house with the phone?"

Deborah thought for a moment. "Well, the fastest way is to take the main road down to Stillwater, but it's also probably the most dangerous right now. That road is covered the whole way with streetlights, we'd be spotted in no time." Tommy fished in his pocket and got out the map again, spreading it out across the bed. "But, we could take the trails down to Blair's Cove instead. It's a bit of a hike, but we can cut back to the main road at the bridge, and Jason might not see us easily if we're in the woods."

Tommy stared at the map a bit more then nodded. "Okay, let's do that," he said slowly. "How well do you know the trails around here in the dark?"

"Uh, not very well, honestly," Deborah said with a grimace. "I mostly stayed in my cabin at night, it's..." she gave a half-hearted chuckle, "... it's not safe to be outside at night." Tommy only raised his eyebrows a touch, before folding up the map and placing it into the pocket of his coat.

With a heavy sigh, he stood. "We're going to need weapons first, I'll go look in the front room. Then we've got to get out of here as fast as we can, it's too risky staying in one place." He walked down the length of the room to the door and Deborah instinctively followed, not wanting to be left behind. However, as they approached the door, she noticed an awful, burnt scent that she hadn't noticed at the other end of the room. Tommy opened the door a crack, before recoiling from whatever he saw on the other side.

"What-?" Deborah began but Tommy shook his head.

"You don't want to see." He didn't say any more before he took a deep breath and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. A momentary flicker of a dwindling fire was all that Deborah was able to see, but after what she'd heard at the lodge, she could guess what was in that room. The previous butterflies in her stomach had now turned into a rock hard lump of anxiety, and she quickly walked back down the room away from the door and the grisly sight beyond.

While she waited for Tommy to return, Deborah rummaged through a few more drawers that lined the walls of the room. Most were empty as she'd come to expect, but someone had squirreled away a few strings of firecrackers in one drawer. Deborah frowned, but picked up the strings nonetheless. Someone had certainly smuggled these in, and from out of state too. She knew for a fact they were illegal, but at the same time she figured if she found a use for them before any police arrived, there'd be nothing to get in trouble for. She stuffed the fireworks in her pocket just as Tommy entered the room again.

"Here." He handed her one of the red flare guns that Kenny had left around the camp. "If we get separated, fire this off. I'll be able to find you." He shrugged. "And it might be useful to scare Jason off in a pinch, or at least blind him." Deborah nodded, a touch unsure about the second suggested use, but after a glance at the combination wrench Tommy was now carrying, she figured they'd be okay even if she failed. Just as she was about to hop out the window, something poked her in the arm.

When she glanced back, she saw Tommy holding out the fuse towards her. "Missing something?"

"Oh." Sheepishly, Deborah took the fuse, clutching it to her chest with her left hand again. "Dreamy Debbie strikes again," she mumbled, crawling out of the window somewhat more awkwardly than before. Tommy followed, but as soon as they were out of the window he paused, glancing the way they'd come before sprinting over to pick up something from the ground. He walked back slower, wiping off the blade of the newly retrieved pocket knife on the leg of his jeans, before closing it up and returning it to his pocket. A small gesture of his hand as he reached her seemed to indicate that he wanted Deborah to lead the way, and with a nod she turned towards the westernmost part of the camp.

There was a small creek between them and the trails to the west that fed down into a larger river that led to the lake at the south end of camp. The soft murmur of water covered their footsteps nicely as they approached, but it lead to a small problem when they reached it. Despite it's narrow size, the creek was too broad to be safely jumped, but there were no good rocks to cross over either. To the north, the main road crossed it with a rickety wooden bridge that nearly shook itself to pieces with each car that crossed it, and the south had a much sturdier footbridge that was right beside the main house and completely out in the open. They'd have to wade across if they wanted to stay in the shadows and away from roads.

Deborah gritted her teeth and stepped in, trying to stick to the larger rocks nearer the surface to keep some part of her feet dry. She didn't want to ruin her shoes by getting them wet, but the other alternative was the possibility of injuring her bare foot by accident, which would be a far greater inconvenience. The water was chilly, but thankfully not deep or fast and while it would have felt lovely seven hours before when the temperature was swelteringly hot, now the chilly feel of the water clung to her skin even when she reached the other side. Silently she beckoned Tommy further into the woods, leading the way to the network of trails ahead.

A gloom settled over the world as they reached the cover of the woods, the dimness of the forest compounded by heavy clouds that were beginning to cover the moon above. Deborah was more focused on not tripping over anything on the way to the trail than anything else, but she looked up in surprise when Tommy spoke.

"Dreamy Deborah, huh? What's that about?" His voice was quiet, but a lightness she hadn't heard until now crept in. Almost as if he found the moniker funny.

With a voice equally as soft, Deborah said, "It's... an old nickname. Everybody at school called me that because I spaced out in class, or read too much, or lost things or... because it began with a D, I guess. It's dumb." She tried to keep her voice light as well, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep a touch of bitterness out of her voice.

"Oh." From the flat, guarded response, she guessed Tommy had noticed. "I was just askin' is all. I wasn't trying to pry."

"No, it's okay." Deborah looked down at the fuse in her hand. "I'm... just a little sensitive about it, you didn't hurt anything. Everyone always says if my head wasn't screwed on just so, it'd... fall... off..." The forced cheer died on her lips, and she stopped walking, borne down by the weight of the night's events. Tommy didn't notice at first, walking past her on the trail before her hand shot out and grabbed his arm. His steps came to an abrupt halt and he looked back at her over his shoulder.

"You okay?" he began to ask, but Deborah interrupted him.

"Not that way. We need to take the other trail now." With a tilt of her head she indicated a narrower trail, headed south towards the lake. Tommy shrugged his shoulders but turned onto the other trail after her.

"What's down the other way then?" he asked.

"It's, um a... graveyard." A palpable silence filled the air. "I'm not superstitious or anything!" Deborah insisted, perhaps a touch too quickly. "It's just, really well lit over there and we'd stand out if anyone came by..."

"What's a graveyard doing all the way out here? I thought the only one in the area was Eternal Peace on the other side of town," Tommy wondered aloud, looking back over his shoulder and missing Deborah's mild distress.

She sighed a little with relief at the topic change. "I think this one dates back before the area got bought, but I don't know who's buried there. I... never ended up going to look. Kenny might have known more, but... well... yeah." The brief silence was back, and she shook her head to banish the thoughts. "Well, y'know the Jason story is real, right? Maybe his mom's buried there."

"No, I know where Pamela Voorhees is buried, and it's not there." This time it was Tommy's turn to be just a bit too quick answering, and Deborah frowned. Every time she brought up Jason or something about his past, Tommy seemed to know more than he wanted to say. It wasn't hard to tell he was hiding something, but she couldn't put her finger on just what it was.

The pace they had set through the woods was fairly slow and cautious, but Deborah couldn't help noticing that since bringing up Jason again, Tommy's breathing beside her had changed. It wasn't the heavy, labored sound she'd heard earlier after Jason had grabbed him, but quick and anxious as if preparing for trouble. "How much farther do we have to go? I don't like it out here," Tommy said briskly, glancing around from side to side.

By now the trees were thinning out, and the trail shifted to follow along a rising outcropping of rock. "Just a little more, we're almost to the cabins, but we should probably take the trail behind them. Almost nobody uses it so it's kind of overgrown, and he might not look back there." Beside her, Tommy made a soft affirmative grunt before falling silent again. The soft chirps of crickets around them were the only sounds as they reached the fork in the trail, the first cabin in the area just a short distance away.

Deborah turned onto the trail that lead around the back of the cabin, and Tommy followed, the gloom of the night deepening again as the trees seemed to close in beside the trail. For once, Deborah was glad she'd been assigned to Blair's Cove over the last week, because she knew the trail more out of memory than sight. As they walked along beside the back of the cabin, Tommy broke the silence once again.

"Watch your feet out here," he said softly, leaning in closer so she could hear.

"I know the area, I'm not going to trip over anything-" Deborah said, but Tommy cut her off.

"I know Jason's used rudimentary snares before, he might have thought to put some out here." He sighed. "Look, just keep an eye out for anything unusual; I can handle it, okay?"

The trail ahead looked just as it always did, overgrown and meandering, eventually curling off around some rocks in the distance. In all honesty, Deborah didn't see anything out of the ordinary, but she nodded nonetheless. No sense in starting a fight when they were out in the open like this; it would be far too risky and besides, she didn't really like confrontation anyway. There wasn't enough room on the trail for both of them to walk side by side, so Tommy took a step back to let Deborah lead, as she knew the area better.

Once they past the first cabin, there was a long section of empty ground before they got to the next, and the lack of cover along the left-hand side of the trail sent a wave of uneasiness through Deborah's heart. Even with the clouds hiding the bright moon, there was still a feeling of being unsafe, like someone was watching them from afar.

Without thinking about it, Deborah quickened her pace, trying to get away from the exposed feeling from that empty patch of ground. The back of the longest cabin in area loomed closer, providing just that extra feeling of security as she approached. The shadows it cast seemed to block out the imaginary eyes on her, and her shoulders sagged with relief. They were almost halfway to the bridge now, with just two more cabins to pass behind before the trail met up with the main road.

She was rounding the back corner of the cabin, when Tommy cried out. "Deb! Wait, don't-" His warning came too late and her foot came down on something that was neither dirt nor stone, followed by loud snap and a hard impact into her leg. That strange sense of detachment she'd felt upon coming across Buggzy's head flooded over her again as she looked down at her feet to see the crudely-made snare clamped onto her leg, digging into her skin and staining the bottom of her pants leg red.

Moments later the pain hit, thudding up her leg with sharp pulses of fire and causing her knees to buckle. The still night was broken with her cry of pain.