Tuesday, October 24, 2017
HALLOWEEN: THE WRATH OF MICHAEL MYERS (PART FOUR)
HALLOWEEN: THE WRATH OF MICHAEL MYERS
By Daniel Skye
PART FOUR: The Boogeyman
Sunday, October 29, 1989.
Two more days till Halloween.
Tina’s boyfriend was ten minutes late. No surprise there. And boyfriend was a term Tina used very loosely. They fooled around occasionally and Mikey came in handy for rides, but Tina liked to consider herself available.
Samantha Thomas, a sweet and shy looking girl with blonde shoulder-length hair, stood beside Tina, smoking a cigarette.
“Mikey’s running late,” she said, as if she was reading Tina’s mind.
“Mikey’s always running late.”
Mikey turned the block, his tires chirping, engine roaring. They heard his car before they even saw him coming. Mikey loved that car more than he loved his own mother. He would’ve sold her just to repair the transmission.
Mikey sat behind the wheel of his 1967 Chevy Camaro convertible. The top was down, the engine idling loudly. Mikey wasn’t even chivalrous enough to lean over and open the door for them. “You coming or what?” he shouted.
“Prince charming,” Tina said, rolling her eyes.
Tina and Samantha reluctantly got in and Mikey sped off, the tires spinning, the car weaving back and forth before Mikey straightened out the wheel.
Tina looked at him with that black leather jacket and those sunglasses with the dark round lenses. A total cliché, Tina thought. What am I doing with this guy?
They drove through town, almost mowing down several pedestrians along the way as Tina urged him to slow down. Mikey whipped around a corner and pulled into the parking lot of the beer distributor. He drove around back so the manager wouldn’t see him.
Samantha’s boyfriend worked for the beer distributor. Mikey scored the grass. It was up to Spitz to supply the beer for the party.
He snuck out the back and was about to open the trunk when Mikey pushed him away. “Nobody touches this baby but me.” He popped the trunk and loaded three cases of beer in.
“You sure this is enough?” Spitz asked.
“Trevor is bringing more.”
“Whose idea was it to have a party in a cornfield?” Samantha asked.
“It was mine,” Spitz said. And added, “Thank you very much.”
“I don’t know, just seemed right.”
“You were watching Children of the Corn again, weren’t you?” Tina giggled.
“Maybe,” Spitz said. “I still say it’s a good idea. And have you ever seen cops driving around a cornfield?”
“He’s got a point there,” Mikey said. “Nobody is gonna bust us out in the middle of nowhere.”
‘I’ll see you guys after work,” Spitz said.
Samantha blew him a kiss.
“I’ve got a little surprise for you later on,” Spitz said with a wink.
“Emphasis on the word ‘little’, right Spitz?” Tina chuckled.
Mikey peeled out and sped off before Spitz could offer a rebuttal.
Loomis checked in at the front desk of Smith’s Grove Sanitarium. He hobbled down the main corridor, where Doctor Hoffman was waiting.
“What happened?” Loomis asked.
“Jamie is in solitary confinement. She stabbed a nurse to death.”
“What prompted this outburst?”
“Outburst? That’s a very mild way of putting it, Loomis.”
“What set her off?”
“Nothing. She hasn’t eaten in days. The nurse was simply trying to feed her. I reviewed the tapes. The nurse never lost her temper or raised her hands to Jamie. Jamie just snapped, plain and simple. I’m sorry, Loomis. But you failed, again.”
Loomis took umbrage at his remark, but declined to retort. The thoughts in his head took over, consuming him. It dawned on Loomis that he had indeed failed, that it was too late to save Jamie. The curse of Michal Myers had already been passed down. It was only a matter of time before the darkness completely enveloped her. And then they would all be doomed.
“I want to see her,” Loomis demanded.
“We shot her up with thorazine. She’ll be out for a while.”
“Then I'll come back. A word of advice, Hoffman–Run. Run while you still can. Because Michael Myers is going to come for that little girl. And he’s going to kill anyone who stands in his way.”
It was supposed to be a 28 hour drive from Haddonfield to Portland. Rachel Carruthers made it in less than 24 hours, stopping only for gas, coffee, and to use the facilities. All she had was a name and an address.
Maggie Caruso, 1015 Rosemary’s Court. It was a two-story house with a stone façade and gray chimney stack. “Maggie Caruso” was in her front yard, planting flowers in her garden.
Rachel thought she looked happy, relieved, at peace. She felt guilty for being the one to shatter her comfort. But she came all this way. She had to see things through.
“Laurie Strode?” Rachel asked tentatively.
“I’m sorry, you must be mistaken,” the woman said, turning to face Rachel. She adjusted her straw hat and wiped the dirt from her hands.
“My apologies,” Rachel said. Then added, “My stepsister, Jamie, she’s very ill. I’m trying to find her biological mother.”
The woman froze for a moment. “I’m terribly sorry to hear that. I hope it’s nothing serious.”
“Michael Myers,” Rachel blurted out.
A chill rushed down the woman’s spine. Rachel saw the twitch that it produced. “It’s you,” Rachel snapped. “You’re Laurie Strode, aren’t you?”
“Who the hell are you? A reporter? A detective?”
“I’m Jamie Lloyd’s stepsister. Rachel Carruthers. I drove almost 24 hours to see you. I need you to come back to Haddonfield with me.”
“In your dreams,” Laurie scoffed. “I swore I’d never go back to Haddonfield. And I intend to honor my vows.”
“Does your husband know the truth? Does he know why you had to change your names? Does he know that your daughter is in danger? That Michael Myers is still alive?”
“I see what you’re trying to do. Blackmail or threats won’t work on me.”
“What if I drag you all the way back to Haddonfield against your will?”
“Sounds like a threat to me.”
“Laurie, Maggie, whatever you want to be called…please don’t make me beg you. Jamie might not be my blood, but she’s family. I love her. And I’ll do anything I can to help her. Don’t do it for me, don’t do it for yourself or your husband. Do it for your daughter.”
A long, awkward silence ensued as Laurie contemplated her options.
“You’re driving,” Laurie said. “I’ll leave a note for my husband. I just need to get one thing.”
It was a small gathering out in the cornfields, nothing that would attract attention. No lights, but some had brought candles, others had brought flashlights. Spitz teased Mikey and told him to pull up his Chevy and turn the headlights on but Mikey yelled that it would drain the battery.
Trevor and his girlfriend were the last to arrive, but Mikey didn’t care so long as they remembered to bring more beer.
Spitz tossed Tina a beer and cracked one open for Samantha.
“I could really use a cocktail,” Tina said.
“Doesn’t surprise me,” Spitz grinned.
“And I could really use a joint,” Samantha said.
“Talk to Mikey. He’s got the stash.”
“Mikey, roll one up,” Samantha shouted.
Mikey walked over and tossed the bag and a pack of rolling papers to Spitz who nearly dropped his beer trying to catch it all.
“Roll one yourself,” Mikey said. “I’ve got other plans.” He took Tina’s hand and led the way. They walked the narrow dirt trail that ran in between the rows of corn stalks. Tina could hear Spitz and Samantha laughing and talking with Trevor and Lisa, but they were no longer in sight. She looked behind her and saw only darkness. A chill spread through her body.
“Relax,” Mikey said. “You’re safe with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“See for yourself,” Mikey pointed to the whitewashed barn.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What? I thought you liked being spontaneous.”
She followed Mikey inside the dark, musty barn and almost tripped over a bale of hay. Mikey hooked her by the waist and pulled her in close. He leaned in for a kiss, but Tina pulled back when the barn doors creaked.
“Someone there?” Tina shouted.
“Spitz, if that’s you messing around I’m going to whip your ass.”
They waited for a moment, then dismissed it. Mikey leaned in again and Tina closed her eyes. Mikey gasped and spat blood across Tina’s face. Tina’s eyes shot open and she saw the blood dripping down his chin, saw the shape looming behind him. He fell to his knees, a pitchfork rammed into his upper back.
Only room for one Mikey in this town.
Tina’s eyes were wide with terror as she stared at that white expressionless mask, that brown matted hair, those deep eyeholes. Michael overlooked the pitchfork and found a new weapon at his disposal–A scythe.
Tina ran from the barn, screaming at the top of her lungs. Samantha was the first one to hear her. “Just ignore it,” she said. “It’s probably a Halloween prank.”
But when Tina got close enough and they saw Mikey’s blood splashed across her face, they could tell this was no prank.
“We have to get out of here!” Tina shouted, frantic.
“What the hell happened?” Trevor asked. “Where’s–”
The blade sliced through Trevor’s neck with one sickening swing, his head rolling off his shoulders. A geyser of blood erupted from his neck as his body crumpled to the dirt.
“RUN!” Tina cried.
They all scattered through the cornfield, breaking off in different directions. Tina didn’t bother to look back and see if Samantha or Lisa was following. She didn’t want to look back, didn’t want to see who or what was waiting behind her.
Tina heard footsteps. The scythe ripped through the air, coming mere inches from her head. Michael trailed behind her, looking like the Grim Reaper himself in the pale moonlight.
Tina’s heels caused her to lose her balance and trip. The scythe slashed across her back, the blade cutting her all the way down to the bone. Tina’s screams echoed through the night as Michael slashed the blade across her back again and again…and again.
Samantha heard the screams, but her vision was obscured by the rows of corn stalks that stretched up to twelve feet high. She stopped dead in her tracks.
“Tina,” Samantha whispered. “Oh, God…Tina.”
She had to keep moving. Her life depended on it. She ran through the corn stalks, trying to find her way back to the road. She heard a rustle and prayed that it was just the wind. She turned to see Michael emerge from the corn stalks, scythe in hand.
She dropped to her knees, begging, pleading, her eyes welling up with tears. She gazed up at this expressionless shape, this shadow of a man and she saw no mercy behind those dark eyes.
“Jamie!” she cried. “She’s the one you want. I know where she is. Please don’t kill me. I’ll take you to her. She’s in Smith’s Grove. The sanitarium. They have her locked away. I can take you there. Just please let me go.”
Michael dropped the scythe and Samantha sighed with relief. He turned away for a moment, then turned back, reached into his coveralls, and produced his signature butcher knife…
Lindsey made a fresh pot of coffee. She was starting to think that was all she did around there. She freshened their cups and then poured a cup for herself with extra sugar. It was going to be a long night. Brackett and Loomis were discussing strategy with Tommy in the living room, and Lindsey felt she should be a part of it as well. There were no secrets between her and Tommy, nothing they didn’t share.
The phone rang and Lindsey excused herself to answer it, wondering who would call so late. She returned to the living room, white as a ghost. “Doctor Loomis, it’s Sheriff Meeker. He wants to talk to you.”
Loomis went to the kitchen and picked up the phone. “It’s me, Sheriff.”
“Loomis…Tina Williams and Samantha Thomas are dead. Their boyfriends, too. Lisa Morgan was the only survivor. She came straight to us. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. You need to get down to Smith’s Grove. It’s a bloodbath. Doctor Hoffman is dead. The orderlies, the nurses. It’s a goddamn massacre, Sam.”
“There’s something else you’re not telling me.”
“Yes…Jamie Lloyd is missing.” Loomis hung up the phone and returned to the living room.
Lindsey was trembling. “He’s coming, isn’t he?” she asked.
“Who’s coming?” Tommy asked.
“The boogeyman,” she whispered.
To Be Concluded With Part Five: THE LAST HALLOWEEN