Valley of the Scarecrow (15 page)

Pat was starting to get worried. It had been at least an hour since Kim had stormed off and there was still no sign of her. He’d been sure she’d go blow off some steam and maybe even try talking to Dan, but Pat knew his friend well enough to know he’d make her hit the road and leave him alone. With nowhere else to go, Pat was sure she’d have ended up back here at his tent, but that hadn’t happened. He was still alone and when he finally poked his head outside to check things out, no one was over by the burned-out fire pit and it was quiet everywhere else in camp.

Too quiet.

Pat lay back down and tried to go back to sleep but he couldn’t do it. He hated himself for admitting this, but no matter how badly Kim had treated him tonight, he still cared about her and even though she’d walked off like a first-class bitch, he was worried about her. She was still really drunk when she’d left and who knew what might have happened to her? She could have passed out in the grass and was lying out in the cold somewhere without a sleeping bag. Hell, she didn’t even have on her coat. Even if she hadn’t passed out, she might have wandered off and gotten lost. Everything looked the same here in the daylight, never mind at night, and she might wander for hours out in the endless fields of corn and
dense forests. She might even have fallen somewhere and hurt herself; the possibilities were endless.

“Yeah, and she might be over there safe and sound getting humped by Dan,” Pat said, not believing it but fearing there was a chance it might be true. “Dan wouldn’t do that…would he?” Probably not, he figured, but now that the seed of doubt was planted in his mind, Pat couldn’t stop wondering if that was where Kim was and screwing Dan was exactly what she was doing. “Shit!” he muttered, reaching for his clothes to get dressed. One way or another, he needed to find out where she was.

He dressed warmly, putting on a sweater and his coat, and as an afterthought grabbed Kim’s coat as well, in case he found her outside somewhere, lost and cold. Flashlight in hand, Pat left his tent and headed over to take a look in Dan’s tent. He was hoping for the best, that Dan and Rich would be sleeping in there alone, but he was prepared for the worst, that Kim would be naked and curled up in Dan’s arms. Neither scenario ended up being true. To his surprise, Pat found Rich sleeping alone.

What the hell?
he thought.
They’re both gone? Together?

Pat never even thought of checking Liz’s tent. Jealousy was kicking into high gear and he was sure Dan and Kim had snuck off somewhere to be alone, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out there was only one possible reason why they’d do that. They were fucking each other. Pat was sure of it. He was also sure Dan would regret it big-time in the morning when Kelly got wind of it, but both he and Kim were likely still half drunk and didn’t give a shit about the consequences right now.

“That bastard!” Pat said, not that he could really blame Dan. Kelly was a pretty girl and a wonderful woman but let’s face it, Kim was a wet dream on legs. If it were he in
Dan’s shoes and he’d had the chance to bone her, he doubted he’d have had the willpower to say no either.

The real pisser was that it should have been he with her right now. Kim was his girlfriend, or at least had been up until a few hours ago. They’d been getting along great too, at least until the booze had started pouring. Not that any of that mattered now. Kim was gone and in the grand scheme of things he was okay with that. Screw her if she didn’t want to be with him. He wasn’t going to let her get him down. He’d been shit on by other women too—most recently by Sheila, his goth girlfriend back in Cedar Rapids—and he was sick and tired of always getting the short end of the stick. To hell with Kim. To hell with all women; he was going back to bed and getting a decent night’s sleep.

Still, he wondered where they had gone. Where could you take a girl around here where no one could see you doing the nasty? The cornfields, sure, but it was pretty damn cold out to be rolling around in the dirt. Pat spun around and looked over at the church.

“That’s it. That’s where he took her.”

It made perfect sense. Inside the church it was warm and dry, and far enough away from the tents that no one could hear what they were doing. Pat couldn’t see any flashlights moving around inside, but that didn’t mean much. It wasn’t like they’d want to broadcast where they were to anyone who might wake up to get a drink of water or to take a leak.

They obviously wanted privacy, which brought a smile to Pat’s face, giving him a great idea how to get back at both of them for what they’d done; her for breaking his heart, and him just for being a two-timing douche. He’d sneak up and scare the shit out of them, hopefully catching them red-handed in the act. There was no reason to
do this, and really it was a pretty childish thing to do, but fuck it; he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep yet anyway and it just might be fun.

Pat turned off his flashlight and, as stealthily as possible, made his way back over to his tent to toss Kim’s coat back inside and quickly pick up his camera bag. If he wasn’t getting laid himself, at least maybe he could get the money shot on film. And man would it piss Dan off knowing he had photographic proof he’d cheated on Kelly. He’d owe Pat
big-time
to get that memory card. Not that he’d ever rat out his friend and show Kelly. They could deal with their relationship problems on their own without him interfering, but still, it would be great having something to hold over Dan’s head and make him sweat it out for a little while.

Camera and flashlight in hand, Pat snuck over to the stairs of the church and tiptoed inside the doorway as silently as possible. Cupping his ear toward the darkness within, he tried to listen for any sounds that might give away their whereabouts. He couldn’t hear anything. Wherever they were and whatever they were doing, they sure were being quiet about it, but Pat was determined to root them out and catch them in the act. He took several half steps into the front room, feeling somewhat giddy, enjoying the hunt as if they were playing a childish game of hide-and-seek. He had an insane urge to shout out to Kim and Dan, “Ready or not…here I come!” but, of course, he didn’t. Instead he moved over to the near wall and started edging closer to the reception area and coat room, where he was sure he’d find them.

He opened the door to the coat room and quickly snapped a picture, the camera flash dazzlingly bright in the small, dark space. The room was empty.
Shit!
he thought, knowing he’d probably just blown his chances
at surprising the couple. Wasting no more time, Pat stuck his head into the reception area and snapped off another picture with unfortunately the same result. This room was empty as well.

Well, hell…where are they?

Surely they wouldn’t go into the basement, would they?

Then Pat glanced at the doors leading into the sanctuary. “No way,” he whispered, and then thought,
They’re not sick enough to do it in there, are they? Not with the dead body of Reverend Miller hovering over them?

That was just flat-out wrong!

Even he wasn’t
that
horny.

Moving to the doors, not nearly as worried about being as sneaky as he was before, he flicked on his flashlight and pushed his way into the room beyond. Unfortunately the sanctuary was empty too, but it wasn’t until Pat realized just
how
empty it was that he started to worry. Walking carefully toward the empty altar, he could see the ropes that had bound the dead man to the cross lying on the raised wooden platform, some obviously cut by something sharp but others looking like they’d been torn in half by someone incredibly strong.

“Where the fuck is the reverend?” Pat said, the pretense of being quiet completely gone now. “Dan? Kim? Where are you guys? Get your asses in here and look at this!”

No one answered, neither his question nor his summons, and the first stage of panic began to set in. Not fear yet, but something close to it and moving closer by the minute. Something wasn’t right here but Pat couldn’t seem to wrap his head around it. Who had moved the dead body? And why would they do something like that? What purpose did it serve? Pat had none of those answers
and it made him feel uncomfortable just standing alone in the dark staring up at an empty cross.

It naturally occurred to Pat that maybe Dan and Kim had done this and were secretly concocting some crazy plan to try and scare everyone, but that just didn’t make sense. Why would they do something like that? They wouldn’t, but if Pat ruled them out of the equation, who did that leave? Everyone else was back in their tents fast asleep. Unless someone else was here that none of them knew about.

“Get your ass out of here,” Pat said, speaking to himself but not liking the sound of his voice. He could hear the fear in his tone, even though there wasn’t anything to be scared of. Not really. For all he knew, the damn ropes had finally rotted through and the mummified holy man had tumbled down into the basement through the hole in the floorboards. An explanation like that was possible, right? Edging closer to the collapsed area of the floor, Pat shone his light down into the hole but from what he could see from here, there was no sign of the reverend’s body down below. He couldn’t see much of the basement from this view and the cornstalks were in the way but damned if he was going down there to have a better look. Not by himself anyway. No, the best thing to do was go back to camp and wake everyone up. They needed to see for themselves what had happened and together they could decide what to do next.

Decision made, Pat ran for the front door.

He bolted out of the sanctuary, dashed across the reception area, and was hitting full speed by the time he entered the front room and saw the abomination standing in front of him. Blocking Pat’s path outside was the largest man he’d ever seen, a shadow-shrouded, long-haired hulk who
filled the entire entranceway to the church. Pat tried to put on the brakes and stop in time to run the other way but his forward momentum carried him straight into the behemoth’s waiting arms.

No! It can’t be!
Pat thought, knowing in the back of his mind it was Reverend Miller wrapping powerful fingers around his neck but not wanting to admit it. Admitting it would make it real and the last thing he wanted right now was for this to be real. He prayed he’d wake up back in his tent but as soon as Joshua began to laugh and squeeze tighter, Pat knew his nights of dreaming were probably over.

“Christ! Let me go, you freak!” he tried to scream but with his windpipe about to be crushed it came out more like a whimper.

“Blasphemer!” Joshua growled, lifting Pat completely off his feet. He began to see stars, his vision frosting up on him and he knew he had to do something quick or he was going to die. He tried punching the reverend but his blows had little to no effect on the man-monster. Instinctively, Pat reached for his camera and snapped a picture right in his would-be killer’s face, the flash exploding only inches away from the reverend’s strangely illuminated eyes, causing him to scream and release his constrictor hold on Pat’s bruised throat.

When his feet hit the floorboards, Pat fell backward onto his rear end, painfully whacking his tailbone in the process, but that was the least of his worries. The camera flash had temporarily blinded his adversary but it wouldn’t keep him out of commission for long. He knew he should get up and run, but instead he reached for the flashlight he’d dropped when he’d first been grabbed. Clicking it back on, Pat couldn’t believe his eyes; something straight out of a comic book or low-budget Halloween movie towered
above him, rubbing its eyes. Pat only wasted a moment looking, but that was more than long enough to notice the bulging muscles, the cornstalks fused with living flesh, and to be repulsed at the sight of the monstrous creature who had once been Joshua Miller.

Son of a bitch!
Pat thought as he hurriedly climbed to his feet.
He looks even more like a scarecrow than before. How the fuck is any of this happening?

Joshua took a step into the church, taking a wild, clumsy swing with his massive arm, obviously still not able to see clearly, but knowing his prey was somewhere nearby. He rubbed his eyes again, squinting into the darkness and looking directly over at Pat, who had backed up near the staircase leading to the bell tower. “I see you, boy,” Joshua said, his voice cold and angry. “There’s nowhere you can run. Nowhere you can hide. This is
my
church…
my
village, and you and your friends are just the soulless vermin trespassing on unholy land. Filthy rats! You know what we did with rats back in my day, boy? We stomped on them. Mashed their worthless skulls beneath our heels!”

The scarecrow took another step closer.

With his path outside effectively cut off and not liking his chances of beating the reverend into the reception area, Pat took the only option left, making a move for the staircase that headed up to the second floor. Even as he ran he knew he’d be boxing himself in, knowing there was no exit from the bell tower room from their thorough search of the church yesterday afternoon, but running anyway. Pat heard the scarecrow growl and without having to look knew the monstrous man was right on his ass. He started screaming for help, hoping someone outside in the tents might hear him and come help, but his throat was already swelling shut from nearly being
strangled and no matter how hard he tried, his injured vocal cords could only produce a low-pitched squeal. He gave up trying, knowing he was on his own, unless he could make it to the tower and ring the bell. His screams might not be loud enough to wake up his friends and bring help running, but the church bell certainly would be. In his heart, Pat knew there was no time for his friends to come to his aid and that he’d probably be dead long before they got there but he had to try. He’d run out of all other options.

Unfortunately, he’d also run out of luck.

Just as Pat reached the top of the staircase, the hanging bell rope in sight, Reverend Miller caught up to him and clamped one of his powerful taloned hands around his ankles and stopped him dead. Pat did a sudden face-plant onto the hard wooden floor, knocking himself senseless, smacking his chin so hard he saw stars. Joshua rolled Pat over onto his back and started dragging him back down the stairs, Pat’s head thumping on each riser until they’d reached the bottom. Pat tried to shout, tried to scream, even tried to beg for mercy, but his head was spinning and the scarecrow definitely wasn’t in a compassionate mood to listen.