August 23
Hackett's property-Dylan
We've been walking for about an hour. I don't feel like talking. All I can think about is Abi. Every time I close my eyes. I look down at the ground because I'm trying to keep from tripping over roots or branches.
I think of my sister Izzy. I had promised to call her when I got home. I Imagine her lying awake in bed, her tiny forehead scrunched up with worry.
I wish I could talk to her. I would give anything for one minute and tell her I'm ok, even if it's a lie.
With a shaky hand, I take out my phone. The battery is at five percent. The next time I take out my phone it could be dead. I could be dead. I imagine Izzy curled up in bed, my dad having to tell her.
"Still no bars?'
I shake my head. "Nothing." I slide it back into my pocket and we keep walking. I hear a loud screech.
"What was that?" I realize it was a bird, a crow or a raven. I'm not superstitious but that was a bad sign right? A warning? That we should head back?
No. We made it all this way. We made it this far. Or is it mocking us? That it knows one or both of us won't be making it out alive.
Come on, Dylan. That's just ridiculous. Everything's going to be fine.
"Maybe we should head to the main road."
"This isn't the main road?" Kaitlyn asks.
"No. This is all still Hackett property. Wait, how do I know more than you?"
"Shut up. So it's like an hour to the main road and then another three or four hours till we hit the next whatever?"
"Yeah." I wrap my hand around my dull aching stump "I suppose this is me now."
"What? You're gonna look great with a hook. We can call you, Hooky McHook face."
"No one's gonna treat me the same are they?" The reality was sinking in. I can feel the claws of depression already sinking into the crevasses of my brain. My mom had struggled with it all her life, not trusting hospitals despite being a nurse, she had self medicated. She had taught me how, (she'd take me out of school once a year and we'd go to coney island, motley crew blasting on the radio, then we'd get high together) not exactly the mother of the year but she always took care of Izzy and me, even though I had to step up sometimes, especially when our father had stepped out. It had taken my dad leaving for her to get sober. Then she got sick. Then she just gave up. Though she claimed it was to save money for me to go to college and go towards Izzy's, the treatments were draining her bank account. A part of me knows that a part of her gave up.
I know what it's like to fight it.
An invisible and difficult creature more terrifying than facing down an actual creature with claws and teeth. I feel exposed, out in the open.
I can't suppress Dylan Dylan for much longer. I'm starting to feel exhausted. Or it could just be the injury, from losing blood. I can't give up now. Kaitlyn was right. They needed me. Though I think she was just trying to make me feel useful.
"Some people won't. But you know what? Fuck 'em."
"I might need some time figuring out the new me first. Before...anything. New and improved Dylan."
"Dylan 2.0. Damn, now I want to be Kaitlyn 2.0!"
"Find something sharp in the scrapyard, we can make that happen."
"Hey. We're here!"
2:45 AM August 23 Scrapyard-Dylan
The creature sinks its large fangs deep into the flesh of Dylan's left arm, and he screams, all the while still trying to make the uncooperative blowtorch work. Just as the werewolf releases its hold, as it gives out a long howl, he kicks it in the face repeatably.
Take that you fugly bastard.
It wiped his head back at him.
Oh shit. That just pissed it off.
It swiped it's claw at him but he managed to dodge it, almost making him drop the blowtorch. No way he was losing his only line of defense. He tries to get it to light.
As it claws into his arm, a spark flashes, there's a beautiful, unending stream of fire as the blowtorch finally sparks to life.
Dylan aims the flame directly into the creature's face. He doesn't even think about the pain as it takes way too long for the ugly bastard to unattach itself from him, jumping back with a howl of distress.
He's temporarily relieved as it backs it's way down the crane. He leans back in the seat and sobs from the pain of his torn up arm. He can't bring himself to look at the mess it's in. He had gotten bitten. Again.
"oh, god, fuck."
He hears screaming, and his name, a call for help.
Kaitlyn.
How long had she been calling for him?
He realized he had adverted it's attention back towards her.
"Oh no."
The thing was advancing on her. He pulls the crane's lever.
But nothing happens. it's stuck.
"Come on you rusty bitch!" He mutters to himself as he jiggles the janky stick back and forth. Finally he feels it moving. He pauses for a moment, as it's getting ready to pounce. Why did he pause?
Finally getting the car in position, he presses the release button, dropping it right on top of it.
"Dylan, thank you, you actually saved my life. For realizes..."
"No sweat. I just wonder who they'll choose."
"What?"
"To play me. In the movie. Maybe one of the Sprouse twins." He put his hand on his hip, his handless arm behind his other, looking to the right dramatically as if to show off his good side.
She gave him a look that said, don't even go there.
"Ok. I'll shut up now."
"We should head back to the lodge."
"What? Are you crazy?"
"You got a better idea? It's better than being out in the open." She thought she had heard him grunt. It must be from the exhaustion and the pain meds wearing off.
She turned to look at him. His right hand is wrapped around his forearm.
"No, crazy, as in I'm not going with you. I'm not going back."
"What are you talking about? Of course you are."
He moved his hand to show her. "I was bit."
No wonder he had been using that witty humor a few seconds ago, to deflect. Now that he mentioned it, there was fresh blood on his shirt, more than there was before they had entered the scrapyard.
"I didn't want you to worry. I can't..." He thought that maybe he couldn't get infected again. Just his luck. A big fuck you from the universe. At least it was the same arm.
As the pain started to intensify, he began to feel light headed. He sank to the ground. His whole arm felt like it was on fire.
"Dylan." She's on her knees beside him. "Oh shit. It's spreading like really fast. " A black substance was spreading up his arm, through his veins in the place of blood.
It was more excruciating than when the werewolf had sunk it's teeth and claws into him. Everything was on fire. Had it hurt this much in the radio hut? He felt like he was being electrocuted. As it traveled through his veins, it felt like every muscle in his arm, his entire body was being filleted open.
It WAS spreading fast.
It felt different than last time. This WAS worse than the radio hut, his hand being severed, the red muscles, trailing out like a tangled mess of radio wires. He had put his body and Ryan through an unnecessary trauma and for what? He was still going to turn. He didn't know how long he had. He needed to put as much distance between himself and Kaitlyn as possible.
"Kaitlyn, you need to leave. Get the fuck away from me. You need to run..."
"No. I'm not leaving you."
"No. No, you have to. Please. GO!"
"I'm not leaving. We'll...We'll think of something else. Shit shit shit, okay.. Shit!" She's walking around in circles now, and Dylan's never seen her like this. Sure it's understandable that anyone deserves a freak out after the night they've had and are continuing to have, but as the guy missing a hand, who was bit a second time, he's feeling slightly jilted that he didn't take his turn first. Apart from Abi, he's had the worst night. The universe must really hate him. He deserved more than one freak out. The pain at least was beginning to subside to a dull ache.
"Think Kaitlyn. Think. " She hits her palm against her forehead as if it would dislodge her thoughts. "Fuck!" Kaitlyn yells, before suddenly standing still, way too still for Dylan's taste. She turns back around to face him. "Okay, okay.. We need a new plan, obviously. I think the first thing should be to" She points with the rifle towards the car, trapping the werewolf, who was starting to stir. "Kill the fucker."
"Are you nuts?"
"You heard what Laura said. " Kaitlyn helped him to his feet. We only have tonight to take care of this or you're stuck until the next full moon. And it's right there!" She points again. She sees the hesitance on his face. "You need to get on board with this, and we need to do this. Then we can freak out properly." As usual she makes an annoying amount of sense. But there was only one problem. Dylan sighs.
"We don't have any silver." They had used it on the werewolf in the van. The silver shell Laura had given Kaitlyn.
"Oh. Right. We need to get back to the lodge and see what we can find."
"Yeah. I'm still not going."
"What? Of course you are."
" Kaitlyn, I've been bit! I need to get as far away as possible. So I can't hurt anyone."
"Dylan, it's past 3 am. We've got, what, an hour and a half tops, before sunrise? We can wait it out at the lodge, maybe you won't turn."
Yeah, I'm sure Nick had a jolly old time waiting it out. He feels himself start to panic. It could be the werewolf virus already taking hold in his blood stream. "We don't know that. We don't know anything."
"There must be somewhere we can put you, back at the lodge, just in case. We can bunker down there until we find a way to kill this thing."
"Ok." He nods. Even though he doesn't like the idea. "And if we can't...and I go all morbin time and try to eat you, you need to kill me. With whatever we...find. "
"What? Dylan, no," If she had any control over the situation and could save Dylan, she would, even if it meant he was the only one she could save. He was her responsibility now. She had to get him back to Ryan in one piece, well relatively in one piece. "I'm not going to kill you." It was a selfish but honorable thing to ask for. She wasn't sure if it came to that, that she would be able to do it.
"Promise me Kaitlyn. If I hurt you or any of the others, I wouldn't be able to live with myself. I'd rather die, okay? Promise me you'll use it if you have to. You put a fucking silver bullet between my eyes." Her eyes are wide and she's a little despondent. She's never seen him like this, never seen him shout before. He's scaring her.
"Kaitlyn!" He says, desperate and pleading.
"Ok. Ok, I promise. " They start walking again. They didn't speak for what seemed like a while. "Just so you know, I think you're being a little over dramatic."
"Dylan Lenivy, that's me, always the drama queen. And just so know that if you were in my position, I'd do the same for you."
"You're a good friend Dylan. Better than I deserve."
"Hey, why would I be friends with someone I didn't think deserved it. You're like, the best person I've met here Kaitlyn. Besides Abi." And Abi was gone.
She stops in her tracks. "No, no. I'm not a good person. " Not by a long shot.
"C'mon, you so totally are. And here I thought I didn't give myself enough credit."
"Dylan would you shut up? You don't 's my fault we're stuck here. It's my fault we're being chased by those things, that Nick and you were bit, that you lost your hand. And now Abi's dead and half of our other friends might be as well..."
"Kaitlyn, what are you talking about?" He thought maybe she was going nuts. She couldn't do that. Not now. Not when he needed her now the most. No, that's selfish for him to think. Then he got a glimpse of the old Kaitlyn. "How is any of this your fault?"
"The van. The stupid van. Jacob asked me how to mess with it. He wanted to stay another night, to try and win Emma back. I shouldn't have told him anything. I should've stopped and just told him point blank to leave it alone. But I didn't. I helped him, and I didn't admit it when I should have." She stops to take in some deep breaths and Dylan listens intently. It was a lot to take in. His eyes briefly flutter to his stump. No, he can't blame her for this. That was all on him. The rest was all on the Hackett's. He squeezes his eyes shut.
"I didn't say anything because I wanted to stay too. I wasn't ready to go. I thought what's one more dumb night of fun, what's the harm?" She laughs at herself sharply. "God, I'm so selfish."
"It's not your fault Kaitlyn, and as much as I hate to admit, it wasn't Jacob's either. I mean who could've predicted werewolves, am I right?"
August 23rd
4:15 AM
When they reached the lodge, Kaitlyn noticed that his arm didn't appear to be shredded anymore. Except for his shirt sleeve. Maybe a trick of the light. She took a step closer. There wasn't a mark on it, not even a bite mark.
"Your arm. It's completely healed."
"But still missing a hand." He examines the stump. How did that work? His other arm, shoulder and neck were healed but not his hand. Maybe re-growing a whole hand was a whole different ball game. Maybe it took longer? It was starting it itch. That could be a sign that it was healing some.
"And you still look like shit and haven't slept for days."
"Speak for yourself." He teases. He stops. He catches a weird light reflecting off the stainless steal pot sitting on one of the tables. At first he thought it was headlights. Sheriff Hackett? As much as he wanted it to be a good thing, that they were going to be rescued, that could be a bad thing. He had locked up two of their fellow counselors for two months. Who's to say he wouldn't be fed up by now and decided to go all trigger happy and ask questions later?
It took him a second to realize it wasn't from police headlights. It was his own eyes reflecting.
"Uh...Kaitlyn, what color are my eyes?"
"Uh..." She stepped closer to get a better look. "They're sort of...Red."
"Not yellow?" She shook her head. "Oh shit.."
Didn't the one at the radio hut and the scrapyard have red eyes? That meant it was the same one, right? And that he was close to turning? They didn't have time to ponder the connection of this new development, what the red eyes meant. Or why he seemed to be turning so quickly. It had only taken about an hour to get back to the lodge. He should have at least another hour. Just an hour until sunrise. You can do this Dylan.
"We don't have much time." Kaitlyn echoed his thoughts. It was scary how she was doing that. "Let's get you down to the storm shelter."
Once he was safely secured, Kaitlyn told him, "See if you can find anything down there that could help. I'm going back to the lodge, see if I can get a good vantage point."
Her footsteps recede and trail off. He's left alone in a dank, musty hole in the ground.
Dylan could hear the rain and wind hammering down on top of the storm doors.
"I hope that's strong enough to hold." The elements started to buffer against the inferior metal and started banging as if someone was trying to get in. "No, nope. Probably not." He backs away from it. His foot finds uneven pavement. It looks like recently pored cement.
They were covering up something here. Normally he'd think they were hiding a body. He wouldn't be far off. There was a body that Jacob found in the lake and this was where Max was attacked. He could smell faint traces of stale blood. It assaulted his nostrils as he inhaled.
"Ugh...Super werewolf healing and now super werewolf smelling too. Yay."
He feels something, like breath on the back of his neck. The hairs on the back of his neck standing up. A feeling like someone's watching him.
Dylan.
That voice calling his name again.
This way.
I can't be going crazy. Not now. Maybe it's the blood loss.
Something's here.
He looks to his left. The fuse box. There seems to be an erie glow around it.
Ok, spooky ghost lady, is this what you wanted to show me?
He walked over to the circuit breaker. A few of them were missing.
"Huh. That's why the power went out. Must've cut the phone line too." His foot kicked something. It's cylinder in shape. It couldn't be the circuits. It sounded hollow but not quite. There's a few of them.
Each have a red band around them.
Shell casings.
Something that looked like shiny beads had spilled out of one of them.
"Silver."
He didn't want to touch them or pick up the shell. He wanted it as far away from him as possible. He had to psychically force himself to pick it up. It made sense. It was his kryptonite.
He finds a ladder leading to a trapdoor. It seemed familiar to him. He had climbed down a similar ladder through a trapdoor earlier in the evening. Is it the one that goes to Mr H's office? What were the odds?
He climbs up it anyway, silver shells in pocket, though the silver was not touching him, it felt like they were burning a hole in his jeans.
He fought the urge to claw at them. He didn't want to fall. That was a long way down. Nothing his super werewolf healing wouldn't heal.
He glanced below him.
Still a long way down. How long would it take for a broken neck to heal? He didn't have time to find out.
He continued climbing.
He lifted up the trapdoor, and sure enough, he was in Mr H's office.
"Oh. That's where that leads to." He struggled through the door, having to shimmy himself on his stomach to maneuver himself away from the hole.
He went into the surveillance room. The camera's were still working. They weren't hooked up to the main power. They weren't all trail camera's. He discovered.
One was of the inside of the lodge. That must have been the one that was turned off earlier.
He couldn't stare at them for long. The light from the monitors was blinding him. How could he help her, if he couldn't see?
Suddenly there was a flash of movement on the screen. It had to be her.
He tries the microphone. "Kaitlyn! Kaitlyn can you hear me? You need to get to Mr H's office...Kaitlyn!"
It doesn't seem to work or she's trying hard to survive and not get eaten. He followed the microphones cord to see where it was plugged into and discovered that it had also been cut.
"Damn it." He had to find another way. " If I can time this right...I can hand these to her as she passes...if she passes."
Before he could hear her, he could smell her. Sweat and something sweet, mixed with something else. Fear?
If he could smell it, so could that thing.
She was close. Very close. He pounded on the office door, desperate to get her attention. If that was the one who bit him and she could shoot it, it would all be over.
"Kaitlyn. Over here. Kaitlyn. Silver shells."
"I'm here. I'm here." She called on the other side of the door.
He rolled them under.
He then heard her retreat. Followed by a loud bang, the smell of gunpowder in the air and the creatures dying howls.
Augstust 23
Hackett's Quarry Lodge-Kaitlyn
As it turned toward her, towering over her, she aimed the gun. She could do this.
She was the final girl. She was Jamie Lee Curtis. Sydney Prescott. She was Ellen fucking Ripley and her cat. She guessed Dylan was the cat in this scenario? He would love to hear that one. He even had an orange cat.
She had to do this. She was doing this. For Abi, for Nick, for Dylan. For everyone of them, that might have met their fate tonight.
Not just yet. One more.
The recoil almost sent her to the ground. The creature howled in it's death throws as the blast knocked it back. The silver bullet striking it's chest. Convulsing. Then it lay still.
"I got you, you motherfucker!"
Behind her, she heard movement.
"Did you get it?"
It started to twitch a little. Dylan flinched. Kaitlyn aimed once more, pulling the trigger.
"Yeah. Yeah, I got it."
"What now? We wait?"
"Now, we wait." She held a brave face and didn't let on how she felt.
They both sat down on the stairs. A well deserved break.
Dylan looked like hell. Exhaustion was setting in. The adrenaline of the night finally wearing off. As far as she could tell, he was back to normal, no black veins and his eyes weren't red anymore.
She figured that Laura had killed Chris, breaking the curse or whoever she had just killed, had been the one that had bit Dylan. It must have followed them from the scrapyard. It must have followed their sent.
It made the most sense. But there were more pressing matters at hand. Dylan's hand.
He was pale and the way he was clenching his jaw, holding his stump close to his chest, she could tell that the painkillers were finally starting to wear off. She could only hope that help would arrive for him soon.
"Who do you think it is?"
"I don't know. It's turned back to human form by now." She was right. A human figure lie by the entrance to the lodge. It was unmistakably male.
"I...I don't think I can look." It could be one of their friends. But thankfully not Ryan from what he could tell. How could he think that?
"I will." She volunteered. He wasn't in a position to stand anyway. Not in his condition. And she didn't know if he could afford to know if it was Nick or someone else they knew. It wasn't. At least, not someone they were particularly close to. But it was still pretty jarring. The boy looked so young. She walked slowly back to Dylan.
"It's Caleb."
"Man. Caleb." How was he going to explain that to Ryan. Ryan who was already grieving Kaylee. "Kaylee. If Mr H is still alive..." And if he wasn't, a whole family, two generations was just wiped out in one night. Ryan. For all he knows, he could be lying dead somewhere in a ditch somewhere. Where the fuck was he?
"They brought this on themselves."
"He still didn't deserve it."
"No. No he didn't."
"He should have been back by now. Do you think he's ok?"
She didn't want to give him any false hope, but what else could she do?
"I honestly don't know. But I do know he's one stubborn bastard and won't go down without a fight." Dylan uncharacteristically stares at Kaitlyn and this deeply unsettles her.
She doesn't blame him for not being his usual talkative self, (or perhaps she was seeing the real him for the first time. Hiding behind humor to hide his real feelings. She could relate with her no nonsense attitude and dry snarky one liners. Or else she'd just fall apart. She supposed if it had to be one of them, Dylan had every right to) given everything they've just been through, but it still doesn't ease the rapid growing sense of dread she feels in her stomach.
"Hey, I'm sure he's fine. Probably already on his way back," she smiles again, and he nods slightly. Or perhaps he blames her for the van and everything that went down afterwards. If Jacob was dead, would he focus all the blame on her? Don't think like that Kaitlyn. Only a few hours till morning. Then we can put this all behind us.
But could they really?
She studies his face once again. His forehead is sweating. Maybe signs of a fever? And his jaw has been clenched this entire time, with his stump held closely to his chest and right hand trembling. She knows he must be in excruciating pain by now, it's been hours since he last took some pain meds and they're all out. It's a miracle he's still even conscious.
Before she knew it, she could see light shimmering through the windows. The lodge was brightly lit by sunlight now, and the soft sound of birds singing was heard faintly behind the window panes.
"Dylan, look. It's sunrise!" Fucking finally. There were no more of those things out there. She didn't get a response. No witty comebacks. Why had he gone quiet? She looked to her left.
He had slumped over.
"Dylan. If you're faking, I swear to God, you're a fucking asshole...Dylan. Please. Don't do this to me now. Dylan, wake up. Wake up."
She puts to fingers to his neck. His pulse was thready, barley existent. "C'mon. You can't...do this..." After saving her life tonight, this isn't the way he was going to die. She won't let him.
She heard the crunch of gravel and car doors close. Sirens. Thank God. They were saved. But none of the others had come back.
She sees at least two body bags being loaded into two ambulances. It must be Kaylee and Abi. Then there was the third. Emma? Jacob? Ryan? She wouldn't know how to break the news to Dylan. If he survived. He had to.
They couldn't be the only ones left.
Dylan was placed on a stretcher and put into the fourth. She didn't take her eyes off his pale unconscious form, looking close to death himself, until the ambulance door close behind him and it's making it's way out of the parking lot. The sound of gravel crunching under it's wheels.
She barley sees the uniformed figure approach her "Ma'am, I need you to come down to the station to answer some questions."