Epic Escape (4 page)

Crack.
An oak tree exploded on screen. Acorns, dirt, and limbs flew toward the audience.
Gasp. Giggle.
The image of leaves and branches got thicker and swirled around the air. Megan swiped at her cheek instinctively. She could have sworn she felt a leaf. The visual effect was that intense. Her seat shifted, and a dropping sensation washed through her stomach, like on an amusement park ride. She reached out, but couldn’t feel her armrest. The movie screen got closer and closer.

Megan slammed through it.

G
rit dug into her palms. Megan shifted her hands and breathed in--night air, dirt, and leaves. The darkness surrounding her matched what she had seen on-screen. She wasn’t in the theater. This made no sense, but Megan’s first thought was that she’d flown through the screen and landed inside the film. Impossible. Rolling to her hands and knees, she blinked and shook off her 3-D glasses. “We’re in the movie,” she whispered.

Leaves stopped flying and floated softly to the ground. Megan dropped back on her heels and tucked her glasses into her purse with trembling fingers. The light of the moon lit Veronica, Chase, and Riley. Were they okay?

Veronica, eyes wide, gestured backwards, waving the black plastic glasses in a wide arc. “What just happened?”

Megan took Veronica’s glasses before she poked out an eye, and froze as she saw the faces of the movie theater audience behind them. The view narrowed to a pinprick before the theater disappeared completely, leaving only woods. Her heart seemed to stop and when the beat returned, its pace had doubled.

Riley rolled to his feet. “Is this a prank?” He glared at Chase. “Did one of your friends give us something?”

No one answered him.

Chase tore off his glasses. “What the hell? I’m out of here.” He headed straight into the dense trees and left.

Riley brushed a leaf off the knee of his blue jeans. His shoulders tense like he wanted to fight but couldn’t find the enemy.

Veronica wrapped her arms around her waist and searched the darkness.

Megan wiped her sweaty palms on her jacket and said again, “We’re in the movie.”

Veronica’s fearful expression cleared. “Of course not. That’s ... it’s … we got thrown out of the theater or something.”

Leaves rustled, undermining her words.

Veronica peered around as if trying to get her bearings. “Or someone’s playing a trick and dumped us in the woods.” Her words dwindled on an uncertain note. “At night.”

The rustling sounded louder.

R
iley stepped toward the tree line. “We should go. I’m not waiting for his friends to show and continue this prank, not with you two here.”

Veronica turned in the other direction, and yanked out her movie ticket. “But the theater’s over there.” She used the ticket to gesture to the place where they’d seen the audience then paused, her eyes narrowed, fixed on the ticket. She lifted it to the moonlight. “Guys.”

“What?”

“Give me your tickets.” Her voice sounded freaked and excited at the same time.

They handed them to her, and she held all three up. Two of the tickets had changed. One still read the title of the movie,
Cabin of Terror
. The other two said,
Find the cabin
, and
Get through eight to escape
.

Megan’s mouth grew dry and her heart continued to pound, but Veronica’s shoulders relaxed, her tension seemed to have eased now that she had some type of direction. She thumped the tickets against her palm and shoved them into the pocket of her jeans. “We need to see what Chase’s ticket says.”

The rustling sounded even closer.

Megan swiveled her head to the tree line. She swallowed. “Yeah, let’s find Chase and go home.”

Riley held back branches as they struggled through the dense underbrush and pine needles crunched under their steps. The night air smelled earthy, like a forest, and bugs buzzed--nature in the dark.

They reached the end of the woods. Ahead lay a large clearing with a dilapidated cabin at its center.
Not good.
The cabin looked like the Bates Motel’s smaller, poorer cousin.

But at least they’d found Chase. He stood at the door, jiggling its handle. Having no success with the lock, he lifted a nearby empty flowerpot.

Riley strode past and kicked at the rotten wood. The door gave with a crack and swung inwards.

Chase straightened with the key in his hand, shrugged, and followed him.

Megan took the steps slowly, careful with the rotten wood. A single, bare light bulb, sixty-watt at most, lit the living area and kitchen nook, showing a near empty room. Dust and stale air were the only occupants besides a small table and two chairs. Why had anyone bothered to lock up?

Making her breaths shallow so as not to suck in the dust, she moved further in.

Riley headed to the kitchen and yanked out one of the two chairs. He dragged it along the wooden floor, wedged the back under the front doorknob, and started searching the cabin.

Megan wondered how to help. The other three seemed so take-charge, and all she could think to do was brush the twigs off her clothes.

Veronica said, “Let me read your ticket, Chase.”

He handed the stub over without interest, focused on trying to get a signal on his phone. When Veronica laid the tickets out on the kitchen table, Chase became interested. His read,
High or low, up is the way to go.

Veronica tapped the ticket with the title. “This is where we are.” She touched the next ticket. “
Find the cabin.
That’s what we had to do. Yours must be another clue.” Her finger swiveled the last in a circle. “
Get through eight to escape
.” I don’t know what this means.”

Riley opened an overhead cabinet. The items inside clanked, and a large hunting knife fell out. The blade nicked his arm on its descent. Riley sucked in a breath and jerked back.

Veronica ran to his side.

Chase bent back to his cell phone. “Huh.”

Megan shifted on her feet and asked, “You okay?”

“It’s nothing.”

Veronica pulled Riley to the table. She opened a drawer, stepped back, and opened the overhead cabinet. Staying a safe distance away, she searched through the other drawers. No other killing or gutting utensils fell. In the third cabinet, Veronica pulled out a partially full bottle of Irish whiskey. “Score.”

Chase held his phone in the air and moved around the cabin while punching keys. “I could use a drink.”

“Did you reach anyone?” Riley eyed the cell.

“I can’t get a signal. How many bars do you have?”

Riley held his hands in the air. “I don’t carry an electronic leash.”

Veronica shrugged but didn’t explain about her lost phone.

“Mine’s dead.” Megan knew that the battery needed to charge when she went to bed last night but hadn’t wanted to get up. She’d fooled herself into thinking she’d plug the cord in while she got dressed.
Idiot.
Looking around, Megan doubted the phones would call inside the movie anyway, but didn’t blame them for not believing their situation. It was impossible to believe.

Riley must’ve been thinking the phone wouldn’t work also, because his mouth twisted and he said, “I felt this pull and I couldn’t stay in the chair.”

“Me, too.” Veronica pointed at the door. “The theater’s that way, we should go back there.” She sounded worried but logical.

“Yeah,” Chase said, “Great plan. We walk back the same way, by the vortex.”

As soon as Chase said the word
vortex
, Veronica paled and turned away, like having her back to him could refute their reality.

No one said anything more, but Megan knew, they were thinking the same thing:
They were in some weird parallel universe inside the movie.

Veronica held up the amber liquid again and patted the table. Riley perched on the edge and reached for the bottle. She moved the bottle out of reach, grabbed his outstretched arm, and lifted his torn t-shirt. The fabric didn’t give, so she tugged at the hem. “Off.”

Riley reached back with his good arm and pulled the cotton shirt over his head, wincing. Veronica’s eyes widened at the sight of a shirtless Riley, so Megan sneaked a peak. Wow, it wasn’t only jocks like Chase who had great bodies.

Veronica stood still for a second then she went into nurse mode. She extended Riley’s arm and poured the liquid over the wound. The alcohol smelled like oak, vanilla, and burning. Riley didn’t protest, but he sucked in a breath.

Veronica said, “Megan, give me your shirt.”

Megan shrugged out of her navy jacket and the pink shirt, leaving her in the camisole. Despite all her plans about wearing just this, she felt exposed and quickly put her jacket back on.

Veronica tossed the shirt to Chase. “Rip a length of that into a bandage.”

He held the shell-pink shirt between his large hands and tore the fabric like it was a piece of paper. At the first rip, Megan bit her lip, feeling it in her heart.

Chase finished ripping and handed the strips to Veronica. “Don’t worry,” he said with a smirk at Riley. “You’ll look pretty.”

Chase gave the remaining shreds to Megan. She took the soft fabric in her hand. There was no hope in saving it. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back saying one more farewell.
Goodbye, favorite shirt. You were taken too soon
. When she opened her eyes, she saw a square wooden panel in the ceiling just over the table. “What’s that?”

Veronica tied off the makeshift bandage and Riley got down. “Storage?” Veronica said, “Maybe a good hiding spot?”

Megan tugged at the table’s remaining chair, intending to get a closer look, but the legs seemed stuck to the floor. She jerked harder, but the chair refused to budge. Chase reached out a hand. He stood close enough that Megan could smell his cologne. Her face heated, and she stepped out of his way.

Chase put the chair on the table, and climbed onto the seat. The wood creaked at his weight but held. He pushed at the panel. Nothing moved. He applied more force, his biceps bulged, and the shirt tightened over his chest. The panel made a scraping sound and slid a bit to the left.

A rattling noise came from inside the cabin. The rattling was not like an empty hairspray bottle, but a threatening sound, the rattle from something alive, something nearby.

C
hase stilled, standing on the chair’s seat, arms stretched overhead.

Veronica asked, “What’s that?”

Rattle, rattle.

Chase narrowed his eyes and extended one leg. Balancing on one foot, he kicked a plastic grocery bag off a shelf. A fat, round, June bug fluttered free.

“Scary,” Chase said dryly.

Riley, Veronica, and Megan froze. Their gazes were riveted past the June bug, repelled, frozen.

A grey body undulated.

“That’s huge,” Riley said, “Move, Chase.”

Chase gave the wooden panel a hard thrust. The square slid out of view. He lifted his tall body through the hole. When his head reappeared, his voice took on a mocking twang. “So, is this yall’s first time in the woods?”

They didn’t answer.

He looked out at their unmoving postures. “What the hell? June bugs aren’t poisonous.” Outside, branches crackled. Inside, a rattle sounded again from the shelf. Chase leaned further out of the hatch, and jerked back.

He must’ve spotted the rattlesnake.

Riley said, “Rattler’s
are
poisonous.”

Chase’s voice lost its mocking tone. “Get on the chair and let me pull you up.”

Megan shook her head. Footsteps sounded from outside the cabin, but she didn’t look away from the snake.

Veronica said, “Megan, go.”

“No. You go. It’s nesting. Probably protecting its eggs. Maybe even has a mate nearby.” Her throat squeaked around the words and her hands clenched.

“They don’t have nests or eggs,” Veronica said, “Rattlers give live births.”

Oh god, did she think that was comforting?

The doorknob clanked and jiggled. Riley lifted Veronica, and Chase pulled her through the trap door.

A bang sounded against the front of the cabin. As if he heard, the grey and black snake slithered and began its descent from the shelf.

“Megan,
go
,” Riley said.

“No.” Megan backed away. She’d rather face whatever was outside trying to get in than a snake. The snake reached the floor.

Riley grabbed her, his arms tight around her waist, and he lifted her onto the chair. Her purse slipped down her arm. She tried to catch the handle but missed. The purse landed near the tail.