Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

“ Y ou don’t have to be an asshole about it,” I muttered.

“Just tired of being left with blue balls, Samara.”

I scoffed, offended. It’s not like I hadn’t jacked him off before or something. Fucking prick.

Jeremy snatched his jersey from the backseat but didn’t bother to button up his jeans as he stepped out into the fall air with no shirt on. After he pulled his top over his head, he leaned down and snapped his fingers at me.

“Let’s go, chop-chop. We ain’t got all night.”

With a roll of my eyes, I scrambled over to the driver seat and got out.

He didn’t bother to close his car door. Rather, he grabbed my upper arm and stomped off like a petulant child, dragging me behind him.

I was really starting to rethink giving Jeremy my virginity. We had been dating all year, true, and I was tired of not being in the same place as my peers in terms of sexual experience, but this asshole was starting to really piss me off.

“Stop,” I demanded, pulling back. My white Converse cheer shoes were being ruined by the dirty terrain. “My sneakers.”

“You should have changed after the pep rally,” he muttered.

The pep rally had been more of an excuse for officials to get students together for a safety lecture than to encourage school spirit. But who had time to change? After the assembly, the cheer squad had to work a booth at the church harvest festival to raise money for the varsity football team. We cheerleaders painted kids’ faces all afternoon so Jeremy and friends could have funds for new equipment and shit. Fucking ungrateful.

Jeremy bypassed the eerily quiet cars to home in on the one rocking side to side at the end of the row. As we approached, the moaning got louder. I recognized the souped-up Miata as his best friend’s car. Ugh. Mitchell was such a douchebag.

“That’s what I’m talking about.” Jeremy said.

“I think I want to go home,” I replied.

“Fuck you, Samara. I’m at least getting a blowjob out of this. You promised me pussy, but I’ll settle for a little head.” He suddenly stopped and rapped hard on the back window. “You lucky bastard!” he called to Mitchell.

I tried to pull out of Jeremy’s grasp, but he wouldn’t release his hold. Instead, he leaned against Mitch’s trunk and used his free hand to whip out his dick.

“What the fuck!”

“What,” he chuckled. “No one is paying attention. They’re busy doing their own thing.”

I shook my head in disgust, realizing just how much I was truly giving up if I allowed this night to go any further.

“Get on your knees,” Jeremy rasped.

“What?” I wrenched my arm free and took a step back. “Fuck no!”

“If you walk away now, find your own fucking way home, you fucking tease.”

“Tease? I was going to have sex?—”

“Save your bullshit, Samara. Are you gonna suck it or not?”

Blinking back the tears, I spun and stormed toward his car to get my bag. I’d find my own way home.

I was only a few paces away when I heard a gurgling “help me” flitter on the breeze, sending chills down my spine.

Slowing up, I turned around and saw Jeremy holding his neck. Blood dripped down his chest, staining his jersey.

I froze in place, my brain unable to grasp what I was seeing. Was this some kind of joke? I knew it was Halloween, but…

Jeremy’s weight slid down the backside of the car and plopped on the ground. He leaned back against the bumper, just staring at me. His mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“Jer?” I took one foot toward him before stopping. “Are you alright?”

My attention was suddenly diverted to the front of the Miata. A hunched figure rose to his full height from the now open driver’s door.

The world yawned and adrenaline turned my blood to ice. The guy was huge. His grungy red and black flannel covered a blood-splattered Weezer t-shirt. A black motorcycle helmet hid his face. When he stepped back, another figure tumbled out of the car.

While the maniac wiped his huge knife on his sleeve to clean it off, Mitch’s bloody hand suddenly appeared on the taillight, followed by his nearly naked body crawling around the back tire.

The injured teen reached for Jeremy, but the dead gaze staring at me said Jeremy was no longer there. Not really. Maybe his body, but definitely not his spirit.

Mitch’s crawling form collapsed, and he faceplanted into Jeremy’s exposed lap.

The killer moved around the two bodies and strolled toward me.

Self-preservation forced my shaking legs to move. I dashed to the nearest car and banged on the window while tugging on the car handle. “Let me in,” I screamed. The doors were locked.

Giving up, I raced to the next car.

I pulled the backseat door handle, and it gave beneath my fingers easily. The door swung open, and I climbed inside, then slammed it shut and locked it.

“Go! Go! Turn on the car and drive!” I sobbed, peering out the window to see where the motorcyclist went. “He killed Jeremy!”

When I didn’t get a response from the people in the car, I turned forward. Zach and Melissa were covered in blood. Their sightless gazes stared off, their mouths slack as if they’d been screaming when they met their demise.

Screeching, I flung myself out of the vehicle, landing hard on my ass in the dirt. Sobbing, I crawled to my feet and jogged on shaky legs to the next car. I flung open the driver door.

Another pair of mutilated bodies.

I spun around and dashed for the open driver’s door of Jeremy’s mustang. But before I could get in, the motorcyclist was upon me. I just barely avoided capture and lunged forward toward the cliff.

With nowhere to go, I backed toward the ledge, keeping my arms out between us. “Please,” I sobbed. “Just…don’t.”

The heels of my sneakers met with air, and I knew I had run out of ground. I held onto the hood of the mustang, cursing Jeremy for parking so fucking close to the overhang of the cliff. Yes, the view was spectacular, but at what cost? I had no escape.

The killer came toward me.