by mike Evans
Nothing. Not even an animal moved. Matt had scared away every living thing still capable of moving earlier in the day with Moon’s ear piercing cries, and none of them had decided it safe to return yet.
Schmidt made his way back up the hill, aiming the light down, unable to see even two feet in front of his face. The clouds had moved in and a light rain had begun, taking his level of patience and annoyance with being out there to entirely new levels. “I fucking hate this job. I should have been an accountant, or a scientist, or some shit. I would’ve had a damn roof over my head, benefits, I wouldn’t have to deal in twenty dollar increments to people that sucked dick for a living… it would've been perfect.”
He walked into something, thinking at first it was a spider web, but this was absolutely not. He screamed when the wetness hit him and he backed up quickly, pushing at what was touching him instinctively. Everything his senses were trying to tell him were getting it all completely wrong. He had only backed up a foot, and he immediately knelt down to pick up his flashlight and pistol. When he did, the foreign object swung back hard, hitting him in the face and getting something in his eyes.
Schmidt wiped at it wildly, unsure what in the hell it was, and was more than a bit scared to find out. He dropped the light and gun a second time, cursing aloud, and went into a full-on army crawl after he got back up to his feet. He got the flashlight, pointing it up and knew that he was looking at something that had been skinned, but didn’t know what the fuck it was. As he stared intently, trying to get answers for himself, a handful of blood made its way down and into his eyes, blinding him all over again.
He wiped at it wildly with his sleeve and rolled out of the way after finally getting some tears to push it out for him. He screamed and could hear a taut rope catching on a branch above him. A voice could be heard screaming, and he looked down at his phone, ignoring it. “Not now, damn it, Ramsey! Sent me somewhere all fucked up, damn it, you mother fucker.”
He finally got the light and then found the pistol, feeling a little better with it in his hands. He brought up the light slowly until he saw a butchered torso, skinned to the meat. The midsection had been split up the middle. He thought that it was a deer at first. Schmidt reached out a hand to stop it from moving until he’d gone up the rest of the way and saw Moon’s bashed in face staring back at him. His eyes had been cut out, along with his ear and nose. “What the fuck?! I’m fucking out of here, screw this place! No way in hell. I don’t care how much fucking money there is in this shit, there’s not enough to trade my ass for it.”
Schmidt looked around frantically, trying to find the path back down the hill to the four-wheeler. He was screaming at the top of his lungs for Billy. He went down the opposite end of the path that he needed to. He stopped for just a moment and could hear Ramsey screaming on the other end of the phone. He’d all but forgotten that he even had it in his pocket. He fumbled for it, pulling it from his pocket, looking around with the flashlight left and right, not seeing anything. There were no sounds, no movement that could be heard.
Schmidt held his chest, wondering if his heart was going to explode from his sternum. The thudding from his heart felt like it was in his ears. He knelt down, turning off the light, realizing he was pretty much telling whoever was out there exactly where he was located. He knew that he should feel more confident because he had the pistol, but whatever did that to Moon was not of a sound mind, and he didn’t have a laser sight on the pistol, which would make hitting anything more than ten feet away a difficult task to accomplish in the dark night.
“Ramsey, are you still there? Ramsey, hello?”
“Yeah, I’m here, what the fuck are you screaming about out there? Is something wrong?”
“Is something wrong? Uh, yeah, I’d say there’s something very goddamn fucking wrong.”
“Well, what is it for fuck sake?”
“It’s Moon… or what’s left of him.”
Ramsey was pinching the bridge of his nose, ready to murder Schmidt himself. “Care to elaborate on that just a little, by chance?”
“Sure. When I got to go up that big fuckin hill by myself, because you sent lazy fuck with me, I didn’t find Moon. I went into the cabin as you suggested, found nothing, again, and then went to look around for Moon. I was sure that he was taking a shit or just hiding and wanting to fuck with me. When I didn’t find him I came back up towards the cabin and ran into something-”
“Could you get to the point?”
“Oh, sure. I walked into this fucking wet, sticky thing. When I ran my light up it, I thought it was like, a deer, or some shit, at first. It was all skinned up like it was ready to have the meat and shit cut off it. When I got to the top of it where the rope was attached, I would have seen Moon looking back at me, had his eyes not been cut out of his fucking head!” Schmidt screamed.
“What do you mean, you found something in the woods, and then you found Moon? Or the thing hanging in the woods skinned was Moon?”
“Listen real close boss, he sure as shit looked like Moon. His head had been crushed, but there was enough there to make me think it was Moon. I’m getting the fuck out of here; you better watch out, I don’t think that we got the right guy earlier.”
“I’d have to agree with you. I’m calling everyone in, you get your ass back here. If that crazy fuck comes here, I assure you he won’t be leaving. We’ll make what we did to his dad look like a sweet daydream.”
“Whatever man, I’m getting the fuck out of here. I’ll see you in a half hour or so. You gonna call Laughlin?”
“Yeah, and let him know that we can’t handle our own shit, I don’t fucking think so. He’ll get rid of us and bring someone else in. I don’t think that is what anyone wants.”
“You are aware that there’s a nationwide manhunt open for that guy? Or at least there was back when the case was open. I think that was what Moon had said today. I know I saw something about it.”
“Just get back here!” Ramsey yelled as he slammed down the phone. “Get everyone you can here. If they got guns, tell them to bring them. We got company coming here, I think.”
James—who had been watching his boss for the last fifteen minutes—held up a hand, the only one to question the boss, and asked, “Hey, uh… what’s going on, Ramsey?”
“You know the thing from earlier that we took care of? Well, I don’t think we got the right person. I don’t know who the fuck that was.”
James nodded slowly, not liking the implications of what that could mean. “And by chance is this stranger coming here, Ramsey?”
“Sure as fuck isn’t going to surprise me if they do. I plan on being ready though.”
***
Schmidt stuffed the phone back in his pocket and tried to figure out where he was. The sounds of the four-wheeler was comforting, as he knew whatever was going on in these woods would never be able to keep up with one of them. He sprinted, tripping, sprinting again, and tripping again, until he finally saw the outline of Billy sitting atop of the four-wheeler. “We need to go now, Billy! Billy we need to go, goddamn it! What are you, fucking deaf or stupid? I’ve been screaming at your ass for the last ten minutes, you dick, why haven't you been coming to help? I don’t care how bad your knees are, you get off your ass next time and come help me, you fucker.”
By the time he made it back to Billy, he was more worried about what was behind him than what was in front of him. He jumped onto the back of the four-wheeler, slapping him on the shoulder. “Get this fucker in gear, Billy! Haul ass out of here, man, I'm not kidding. Let's go, come on, now!”
Billy didn’t move and Schmidt quickly got the suspicion that something was very wrong. He shook his shoulder a little harder and Billy’s head started to come back towards him, until it fell completely backwards and in between himself and Schmidt. Schmidt screamed, falling off the four-wheeler. Billy’s head followed him, landing next to his face. He bent to the side and what little he had eaten came out onto the downed Billy.
; Schmidt looked up at the four-wheeler, seeing he was tied to it by his hands, and his neck was nothing now but a fucking stump. He crab-walked backwards from it and looked around with the flashlight. He went past it the first time, not catching it in the light, but when he went back the second time, he saw a pair of legs.
He took the light up slowly, feeling like the man would never fucking end. Schmidt instantly realized that there was a good reason why Billy was dead. Because until tonight, the only time he’d ever seen someone bigger than Billy had been in movies. When he saw the mask from earlier swaying back and forth, he stammered, “Who-who-who the fuck are you?”
“That was Billy Lang; what is your name?” The Stranger asked.
“What is my name? Why the fuck do you care?” Schmidt yelled.
“I can find out by taking my time, if you prefer. You let me know which you’d like to take place. I know my preference.”
“My name’s Schmidt—Chad Schmidt. And I don’t have anything to do with you. I won’t even hold it against you that you killed my friend here.”
Matt started down the hill, carrying the bow with an arrow already nocked on it. Schmidt yelled, “Hey, just settle down there, mother fucker. I don’t want anything to do with you.”
A whistling came through the air and Schmidt screamed, looking down at his hand. A slow drip, drip of blood was falling into the leaves below. He touched his hand with the other, because the fact that an arrow was now stuck in it was more than he could believe. “You shot me… You fucking shot me!”
“Do you know who the man was that you killed earlier?” The Stranger questioned.
“Yeah, he was—or I thought that he was—the one who was killing everyone a few years back. I need help with my hand. Please, I’m sorry about that, I-”
Matt slid the bow back around his shoulder, walking slowly. “You are sorry? You’re sorry for what, that you killed him? You are sorry that you killed the wrong man? Or are you sorry that you killed the wrong one, and the right one is standing here before you? You said you wanted help with that arrow, huh?”
“Please, I’ll leave town, you’ll never see me again.”
“You don’t know much about me. The arrow isn’t a threat, and it isn’t me trying to get a point across.”
“Then what is it?” Schmidt begged to know.
“Foreplay.”
Matt began walking towards him, but Schmidt lifted his gun, aiming it with his left hand and wishing he were a lefty at that moment. Matt disappeared behind a set of trees, and when Schmidt hobbled back to get a look, he saw nothing. He ran to the four-wheeler, pulling out a knife, and cut off the rope from Billy’s hands.
“Get the fuck off, you dumb shit! You must be deaf if a big ass like that could have fucking snuck up on you! So fucking glad he sent you with me, you were super fucking helpful, dick.”
Billy’s hands finally came free and even with nothing holding him up, he still sat atop of the four-wheeler solidly. Schmidt was trying to push him off with his shoulder and had only put down the pistol for one minute while he was cutting the man free. He looked down at his hand, broke the arrow free, screaming as he did so, and then pulled it back out through the newly made hole, screaming the entire time.
Matt sat watching this happen; when he got Billy off, he sprinted to keep a distance with him. He didn’t have to wait long as the smell of gas had gone unnoticed to Schmidt’s senses. Schmidt disappeared for a minute and then the small four-wheeler died, coasting to a stop with a cursing Schmidt atop of it. “What the fuck is happening tonight?”
Matt sprinted the rest of the way to catch up while still keeping his distance from Schmidt. He yelled as loudly as he could, “You’re going to die tonight, Schmidt. You, James, and Ramsey will all bleed, scream, and experience pain like you have only ever wished upon others.”
Schmidt held up his middle finger, not knowing where to point it towards. Matt looked at the arrow he was holding and shook his head no. He knew that he needed to get into town but wanted to make sure that each man got exactly what they deserved. Schmidt sprinted until he had nothing left—and what he’d started with hadn’t been that impressive.
When he could run no longer, he collapsed onto the ground. His shoulders were rising and falling and he was hitting the grass with his gun. Matt stood, watching him; only the small amount of moonlight that had come out had kept his path lit. He threw a branch near him and Schmidt leveled the gun, firing wildly. Matt stood in a safe spot and continued to taunt him. When the gun finally clicked empty, he moved in. He realized that the man was not angry—or he probably, most definitely was angry, but he was, for the most part, past frustration and was crying. This wasn’t something he was used to seeing until after.
Schmidt dropped the gun in the leaves and pulled out something from his pocket. He put it on speaker, and Matt could hear the ringing. Ramsey answered, “Schmidt? Billy? Who is it? What is going on out there?”
“He killed Billy… The son of a bitch killed Billy, goddamn it. He cut his fucking head right off,” Schmidt whimpered.
“What do you mean he cut his head off?”
“It’s pretty fucking self-explanatory there, Ramsey! He shot me with an arrow and he’s toying with me. That sadistic fuck is messing with me! He let me leave on the four-wheeler only to have it run out of gas a minute later. He had it completely empty—must’ve cut the gas line or something, but it’s fucked, just like me—I mean us, because he’s hell bent on coming for you. He specifically wanted to know what my name is. He must’ve gotten Moon to tell everything to him.”
“How much distance do you have on him? You said that you were on a four-wheeler for a bit; how much time until he’s caught up to you? Are you good to keep going, or are you done?”
“I can’t run anymore. There’s a reason I deal drugs man; I don’t have the stamina to keep up with this shit. Good luck to you though. I’m sure that you are going to be all right. I mean, at least you have James and the others.”
“I want you to keep running. You get back here, I don’t care what you have to do, Schmidt!”
“I’ll do my best but-” His speech was cut off.
Ramsey said, “Hey, I think your phone is breaking up, Schmidt. Did you hear the last thing that I said? Schmidt? Schmidt, come on buddy, say something, would you, please? I need to know what is going on out there.”
Matt held his hand over Schmidt’s mouth. His face was shaking, and he was trying to beat Matt’s hand off his mouth. He got tired of that quickly and engulfed his head in his bicep placing his forearm over his mouth. Matt bent down, holding out one free hand, and whispered, “Give me the phone, now!”
Schmidt desperately nodded his head yes what little he could, and Matt took it gently, not removing any of the pressure from his squeeze.
“Schmidt? Schmidt, did I lose you? Fucking hell, where are you?”
“I’d say he’s going to have a half hour or so head start on you,” The Stranger said.
“Hello?”
“Hello. You killed my father.”
“Look, that was an accident; we didn’t mean nothing by it. Swear by my mother, wasn't nothing personal.”
“Does she know you’re doing that? Putting her life in jeopardy, I mean? Is she on the way there, by chance? Maybe I could hang her by her feet in the bathtub and peel her skin off one long strip at a time, while she’s still alive. How would that be? Wouldn’t be anything personal, just something I decided to do on a whim. You know, it doesn’t matter. I’m pretty good about keeping my promises, and I’d be fine to make a house call.”
“What did you do to Schmidt?”
“He’s alive, for now, but won’t be for too much longer. I’m just about ready to break his spine and then start cutting off limbs. When I’m done with your entire group, everyone in the United States is going to know that I didn’t die, and that I am back. I’m going to make your little town famous, I assure you. Everyone will ask why it was that I picked your group, as if I’ve e
ver had to have a reason. Now, did you need to say goodbye to Schmidt?”
He waited for a moment. Ramsey sat with his mouth open. He was trying to find the words to speak, and while he was not overly close to his mother, he was not necessarily on board with the idea of having her gutted and skinned.
Matt rubbed his hand through Schmidt’s hair, patting it. “I guess he just doesn’t love you like you thought he did.” Matt thought about it and held the phone to his ear. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Ramsey. Make sure you don’t send James home. He is going to be just as big a part of tonight as you. Not as big as you though, since I had Moon describe everything to me in detail before I smashed his head in with an axe.” Matt dropped the phone, let up on Schmidt’s mouth, and he screamed.
