Chapter One

Alex

Sept 30 6:47 PM

“Girls, you know I need nachos on Tipsy Taco Tuesday! I can’t eat them all by myself!”

My three friends and I have been meeting at Tipsy Tacos, the local Mexican Restaurant, every other Tuesday for several years now. Once we found the namesake, we decided to celebrate ourselves midweek, sharing our favorite foods and drinking margaritas while we chatted about the latest work gossip.

My friend Hannah is such a lightweight, and she needs to eat when she drinks. Lainey and Lauren arrived late and mentioned they already ate once they exited their car. That leaves only Hannah and me for dinner. Now, Hannah is complaining that she’s going to look like a pig with a whole tray on the table.

—“Hannah,”

I huff impatiently as I gaze toward the restaurant. “I am here. You don’t have to eat it all.”

When she looks back at me as we cross the lot, the look in her eyes that she tries to hide tells me she just doesn’t want to be the only one eating with me, the fat girl. My friends are all model-thin, popular girls who grew up here in Hallow Creek. Unfortunately, I am the nerdy, plus-size girl who relocated here after college, taking on a photographer position with the small town’s local newspaper. I met these girls through an assignment covering the local pageant, and they insisted we become friends. It was weird at first, considering I’d just moved to town and knew no one. I soon learned that I’d always be the outsider among them; they saw me as the ‘ugly friend’ who made them look better by comparison. What else could I do in a small town in Southern Iowa, though? Without many applicants to step into the role of my new best friends, I have who I have. I guess I should be thankful I have any friends at all.

“You’re right, Alex,”

she says with a forced smile. She doesn’t turn around quickly enough, though, because I can see the exact moment her smile falls away. If I hadn’t been studying her eyes for the sarcasm lacing her saccharin-sweet agreement, I wouldn’t have known. Great. That’s lovely—my friend’s tepid reassurance does little to warm me in the chilling evening. My internal eye roll is the only reaction I allow, though. I sometimes wonder if having friends who barely keep you around is a benefit or a burden, but I think I’d rather have fake-ish friends than not have any at all.

“Whoa, eye candy. Eye candy!”

Lauren practically purrs as we approach the covered storefront pavement. She stares, eyes wide, despite trying not to be so obvious. When I casually turn around, I discreetly check out the five men crossing the parking lot of the hardware store. The tall blond has chin length hair, worn jeans, and a t-shirt that skims his broad chest and shoulders, nicely framing his muscular body. The other man is dressed similarly, with loose jeans and a flannel button-down shirt, his dark brown hair raked back. The rest of the men are all dressed in business casual, looking like they are going out tonight. All of them are hot, and so far out of my league. My friends start giggling though, trying to flirt as they pass us.

The men are polite, several even offer a smile. The one with the glasses gazes straight past my friends, his eyes locking onto mine. I can feel my cheeks flush as he stares, and it’s completely unnerving. A shiver runs down my spine from the heat of his scrutiny. Turning, I grab the door to the taco bar, tug it open, and rush inside, running from any further attention.

“I bet those are the guys who opened the new ‘haunted farm’ out of Route 74,”

Lauren gushes with excitement as she and the others follow behind me. “My boss said that it’s supposed to be really creepy, and that the guys wear masks and are super hot. Oh, we should go after our margaritas!”

“Oh, yes!”

Lainey jumps up and down with excitement. “I’m off work tomorrow, and I know you and Hannah go in late anyway. Alex, your hours at the newspaper aren’t set, so you can go—no backing out! You never drink that much, so you can drive us tonight, and the rest of us can indulge a little more. Oh, let’s do the ‘Uno Taco, Dos Tequilas’ special, too!”

Lainey’s squeal of delight blends in with the other girls’ chitchat as they rope me in without asking. Nothing beats being volun—told that I will be the designated driver for my pseudo-friends.

It doesn’t take long for all three of them to become completely trashed. I allowed myself one margarita as usual, but the three of them emptied two pitchers and six shots. After the nachos were polished off, they looked up this spooky farm while ordering a dessert tray filled with churro cheesecake and Mexican hot chocolate brownie bites.

Somehow, I manage to herd them to my little sedan. I try to tune out their drunken chatter as I follow the GPS directions to MacKittrick Family Farms, the location of this spooky event. Darkness cloaks the two-lane road leading to the farm, which only amps up my anxiety. Trees hang low over the road, throwing shadows in weird directions. I’m skeptical of this place as I turn into the drive, noting how few cars there are here.

“Um, are you all sure this is safe?”

As I park, I express my concerns to the girls with a shaky voice, but they dismiss me.

“The grand opening is still three days away. And besides, I got us free preview tickets. Issalright,”

Lauren slurs. They all stumble out of the car, and I lock up. Still unsure of the situation, I make sure to tuck my key fob into the front pocket of my jeans. Using the flashlight on my phone, I guide the girls up to the entrance. I’m already annoyed, waiting in line as they drunkenly giggle and gossip.

Tuning them out, I wrap my coat tighter around me as I peer around the farm. I can’t help but appreciate the decor. I can see the underlying farm for what it is. The quaint farmhouse has been here a while, with its weathered exterior and sagging eaves. While that could mean the homeowners aren’t able to repair the home on a timely basis, it does lend itself well to a creepy vibe that accentuates the mood they are going for. As darkness shrouds the land surrounding the house, old oak and elm trees create shifting shadows from the moonlight overhead. Tilting my head back, I notice that the waxing gibbous moon looms high in the dark night sky. At least it’s not a full moon—that would be too much for me. It’s almost there, and that creeps me out.

As we approach the gate, I can’t help but notice that the quiet guy who stared at me outside the taco bar earlier is the one checking the guests’ tickets. Butterflies build in my stomach, and I can’t help but think of the reason I’m so nervous. It’s ok, James isn’t here. You’re done with him, and you’re finally ready to move on, no matter what he said.

Lauren completely dismisses him as she scans her receipt on her phone before handing over a ticket. With her ticket in hand, she stumbles forward with a hiccup. Lainey giggles as she steps up and collects tickets for both herself and Hannah. Stumbling over a tree root, Hannah sing-songs, “Spookyyyy”

with a slight lisp, evidence of the nearly full pitcher of margaritas she finished on her own.

Finally, when it’s my turn, I keep my eyes downturned, reaching out to collect the preview ticket. When the man doesn’t immediately hand me one, I glance up nervously. The light positioned over the booth shines bright enough for me to recognize cloud-gray eyes that peer back at me in interest. Now that I’m closer, I notice his eyes—while hidden behind black-rimmed glasses—focus intently on me. His light brown hair is longer on top and hangs down into his eyes before he brushes the strands back with his long fingers. He cracks a small smile as he finally reaches out with the slip of paper, and I feel my mouth mimicking his expression as I accept it. Our connection breaks when I take a step toward my friends, but the weight of his hand on my forearm stops me in my tracks. I glance back at him, only to find he hasn’t stopped staring at me.

“Is everything okay?”

I ask quietly, trying not to draw attention to myself.

“Uh, yeah.”

His low voice is smooth and velvety. His mouth turns up in a shy smile before he glances over my shoulder. “Enjoy your time.”

I spin around again, moving to hand over my ticket. The guy validating the tickets is the rugged blond I thought looked like he belonged in the hardware store. Goddamn, he’s tall. I’m not a small woman at five-foot-eight inches, but I still have to crane my neck to meet his gaze.

“Good evening, miss,”

he says with a broad grin. When he leans in to greet me, I’m instantly met with a comforting scent that reminds me of sunshine. “Your friends are waiting for you, so if you’d hand over your ticket and your phone number if you want, I’ll happily get you ladies on your way to some frightful fun. I’ll even volunteer my services as a guide, but that will have to be after we close up for the night.”

“Oh, you’re smooth,”

I say with a smirk. He grins as he tears my ticket in half. I playfully roll my eyes and step forward, outwardly shrugging off his flirty behavior. A blush rises from my chest under my sweater, and I suddenly wish I could hide.

Oftentimes, when guys shower me with attention, they have ill intentions. I’ve learned from my mistakes, though, specifically my ex-boyfriend, James. He initially approached me when the girls and I went out to a club shortly after I arrived in Hallow Creek. I was twenty-three, and he ended up pursuing me, hard. He never gave up, even when I shot down his offer to take me home that first night. I eventually gave in, but he would drop me when I needed him the most, then come crawling back a few months later. He always showered me with compliments, especially out in public. I thought I’d found the guy I’d spend the rest of my life with, but those little ‘escapes’ he ran off on didn’t feel right. After nearly five years together, I found out he’s married, with a wife who lives about an hour away, plus he was sleeping with a different girl, too. I caught him in bed with someone when I went to his apartment one night about three months ago. I never saw who, because I was so mad, and the other girl ran. He finally confessed that he only came to see me when his wife kicked him out for screwing up and the other girl was busy. That’s when I told him to lose my number.

Breathing deeply and smelling the crisp fall air, I decide to make the best of tonight. The girls are still going strong, all three giggling as they walk ahead of me through the themed gate to the property itself. When Hannah tumbles to the ground, I rush forward to check on my friend, but the three girls just can’t stop laughing.

“Come on, Hannnnuuuuh,”

Lainey complains with garbled words. “Get up. We are here to have the sssspooky fun!”

It takes Lainey and me a good thirty seconds to haul Hannah to her feet while she keeps collapsing in a giggle fit. Lauren eventually holds her upright while I secure her arm around me. Once everyone is vertical and can keep a straight face, we all begin to cross the grounds, looking at what is available.

“Oh, wait!”

Hannah shouts as she pushes away from us. “Spooky selfies for the SnapSpace grid!”

She stumbles to the front of the farmhouse, collapsing into a pose on the steps. I can only sigh as the other two attempt to run after her. While they pose for the camera, I glance around and admire the work these guys have done. The farmhouse looks to have once been painted white, but from what I can tell with the dramatic lighting, there are highlights of a deep red and shadows of dark gray used to enhance the gothic theme. All the hardware is black, mimicking the old, wrought iron look. Even the windows have a dark, sheer lining with a lace curtain. The inside lighting switches from a strobe to a flickering candle. All the little touches only up the horror effect. It makes me grateful they dragged me along. I’d love to do a story documenting the wonderful aesthetic they’ve curated. I wonder if I could secure a section cover with a photo of this house? Maybe with the right angle…

“Alex! Take a picture of us!”

Lauren squeals with excitement as she hops off the steps to run to me. She shoves her phone in my hands with barely a whispered ‘thanks’ before running back to the others. As they primp and fix their hair, my eyes wander across the front of the house. One of the swiveling lights set up outside swings low, bathing the front porch in brilliant white light. It's then that my eyes find another set staring back at me. Bright golden eyes lock onto mine, shining in the brief moment of the spotlight. When the light swings away, the brilliant eyes are hidden in the darkness. But I remember the feeling those light eyes now hidden in the shadows gave me. It felt as if they could see to the bottom of my soul.

The eyes belong to a man—a shirtless man, disguised with a gargoyle mask and body paint. When he shifts in the darkness, I startle, remembering I have a job to do. “Any day now,”

I call out to the girls, and they all settle in a pose. As the phone’s camera app focuses, I feel the weight of the gargoyle man’s stare. It takes a moment as the swiveling lights distort the image, and I feel the warmth of a blush as it rises in my cheeks.

Fuck me.

“Excuse me?”

I’m startled out of my reminiscing by a disembodied voice. The girls on the steps and I all scream, frightened as a person emerges from the shadows. But, to our surprise, a man dressed in a simplistic plague doctor costume strides toward us. Did I say that out loud?

“Ah, my apologies,”

the man says as he approaches me, a distinct British accent reaching my ears. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I only wanted to be of service. I can take a picture of you with your friends, if you want.”

“Ah, no thanks,”

I mumble. “We’re okay.”

“Are you sure you don’t want a picture with your friends? Your beauty shouldn’t be hidden behind the camera.”

If I wasn’t blushing already, I am now.

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

I duck my head and rush to meet the others. I hand Lauren back her phone before tucking my hands into the pockets of my coat. We wander toward the rest of the farm, and I can’t help but feel anxious after that encounter. “What now?”

I ask the girls.

“Oh!”

Lainey squeals with delight as she hops up and down. “Let’s go get hot cocoa and warm up before we go into the corn maze!”

She points to some food trucks parked near the edge of the property, right near the parking lot. Second in the line is a hot cocoa vendor. We all agree, but as we approach, Lauren spies one important detail.

“Oh my god! They sell boozy hot cocoa!”

Fucking hell, if I wasn’t the designated driver, I’d totally indulge at this point. I internally groan as the girls debate what alcohol they want. Is there a better recipe for chaos than mixing alcohol?

Collecting their warm and heady refreshments, we find ourselves huddling around a bonfire. While it's quite a way from the main area, the fire is halfway to the corn maze. It’s the one thing about this outing I’ve been trying to avoid. They don’t understand that my anxiety spikes when there is a possibility of getting lost because I just don’t bring it up. Mazes freak me the fuck out, and they have for years. It all stems back to when James and I went to a hedge maze at his friend’s parents’ house, and he left me roaming the maze by myself. It was dusk, and I felt like I was never going to find my way out. When I finally did hours later, it was to find James drinking with his buddies and laughing off my anxiety.

Now, I stand here, wondering if I’ll even be able to step closer to the corn maze. The girls are oblivious to the cold sweat breaking out on my forehead. It’s not long, though, before they are throwing away their paper cups.

“Come on,”

Hannah says, grabbing my hand and dragging me toward the entrance of the corn maze. “Let’s go get lost!”

Her screams of excitement and fun are lost on the breeze, and as I stumble toward the towering corn stalks ahead of me, but when I feel eyes on me, I spin and survey the area. There, on the other side of the bonfire, standing in the same spot we just were, is the plague doctor actor. And somehow, from his stance, I can tell that this won’t be the last time we see him tonight.