by Mav Skye
There was a slight knock on the door, and they all turned and looked at it.
Chloe stood. “It’s probably Diana. She must have forgotten something earlier.” Chloe moved through the living room and put her hand on the door knob.
“Chloe. Stop.”
Chloe paused, alarmed at the sound of Wes’ voice.
He stood and strode straight to the door.
She stepped aside. “What’s the—?”
She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence.
He opened the door to a clown with a chainsaw.
It was a Ronald McDonald look-a-like with red yarn hair and a yellow jumpsuit. The night accentuated his glowing yellowness. The chainsaw’s steel teeth glinted under the porch light. The clown smiled eerily at Wes and grabbed the rip cord to rev up the motor. He didn’t get further than that.
Wes threw his fist in an uppercut, knocking the clown clear off the porch. The chainsaw flew out of its hands.
“Way to go, Dad!” shrieked Chev from the living room window.
Chloe drew her gun and pointed it at the clown. “Put your hands up where I can see them.”
Wes said, “You can put that away. I’m taking care of this.”
“Wes.”
“I’m taking care of this!” he barked, stepping through the doorway.
Chloe lowered her gun. Wes blocked her view of the clown. She snatched her cell out of her pocket, pulled up Donny’s number and called him.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Chloe. You on shift?”
“Yep. Still on. Everything okay?”
“Need you here. Now.”
Ronald McDonald stood and threw a punch at Wes. He caught the clown’s arm and twisted it backward.
“Ow!” the clown shrieked.
Donny asked, “What’s that noise?”
Chloe said, “Wes is beating up a clown on the front lawn.”
“Uh oh.”
“Yeah, guess he knocked on the wrong door.”
Donny said, “I’m on my way out of the hospital.”
“Hospital? Are you okay?”
Wes punched the clown again, knocking it to the ground, close to the chainsaw. Its face was now smeared in blood. Chloe cringed.
The clown stuck out its giant shoe, tripping Wes, then reached for the chainsaw and yanked on the rip cord. It roared to life.
Donny said, “Bruised ribs. I’ll live. What the hell is that?”
“The clown has a chainsaw.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Chloe hung up and raised her gun, then lowered it again. The men were silhouetted in the street lights.
Ronald McDonald might have managed to start the chainsaw, but that was as far as he got. Wes grabbed his ankle and yanked.
The clown fell on his stomach, both hands still clutching the power tool. Wes stood and jerked hard on the clown’s legs. The clown screamed as Wes dragged him over the sidewalk to the road. The chainsaw hit the sidewalk curb, knocking it out of the clown’s hands. The blade bounced backward toward Ronald McDonald’s face.
Wes swung the clown’s legs the way he used to do with the kids when giving them a helicopter ride.
The clown flew up in the air. The chainsaw, barely missing the clown’s face, skidded into the sidewalk gutter, making a noise like fingernails on a chalkboard.
Wes hauled the clown to his feet, and punched him, sending him spinning across the road.
Wes rolled up his sleeves. “Do you think you can just knock on my door and threaten my family?” He grabbed the clown by the collar and hauled him to his feet again, then slugged him another one. A tooth went flying out of the clown’s mouth along with a string of blood. The clown got on all fours and started crawling down the sidewalk.
The neighbors on both sides of the street came out of their homes. Tanya’s Prius braked on the opposite side of the street from the crawling clown.
Wes kicked him in the butt, and the clown went sprawling forward. “That’s right!” Wes was screaming now, all the anger and frustration from the last few weeks pouring out of him. “You roll away like the stinking dog turd you are, little yellow man.” He marched over to the gutter and picked up the chainsaw. He pressed the throttle, and the chainsaw buzzed. Wes howled like a crazy man.
The clown jumped to its feet and ran down the middle of the road in its giant red shoes.
“Oh, wait, you can’t leave!” screamed Wes. “You forgot your murder machine!” He chased the clown down the street into the night. The echo of the clown’s shoes slapped against the pavement and the buzz of the chainsaw droned into the night like an insect’s song.
“Wes!” Chloe took a few steps into the road, watching them disappear from the streetlamp.
When she turned around, everyone was looking at her: the kids, her neighbors, Diana and Tanya.
Then the neighbors across the street started clapping. A man yelled, “It’s about time someone showed them clowns that people live in this town, not fools.”
Another yelled, “Send my regards to the chef.”
Chev yelled, “Go, Dad!”
Chloe glanced down the street, which was now empty of both husband and clown, then turned back and headed toward the house, not knowing what else to do. She put her arm around the kids, and they walked into the house together as the rest of the street clapped.
A half an hour later, Chloe saw lights flash outside the living room window. She ran to the front door, the kids piling in behind her. Wes walked up the driveway with Donny behind him, Chloe stepped aside and let them into the house. She folded her arms across her chest. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”
Wes lifted his mouth in that sexy half grin of his and shrugged. He was caked in mud and dried blood, and his knuckles were split open. Dark rings formed under his eyes; Chloe thought it looked more from exhaustion than bruising. Donny said, “I found him down on Main street beating the fuck out of that Ronald McDonald clown.”
“Is it—?”
“Dead? Nah. Just scuffed up pretty good. Ronald McDonald is cuffed and in the car. I thought I’d bring your husband home for dinner.”
Chloe set her hand gently on Wes’ shoulder. “Thank you, Trooper Hanks.”
Donny tipped his hat. “Seems to me, it’s your husband you should be thanking.” He nodded at Wes.
Wes lifted his chin and saluted.
“Well, we’ll be seeing you.” Donny turned to leave. His cell buzzed, and he glanced at it, grinning.
Chloe said, “Kara Leigh?”
“Yeah, she sent a picture of Mckayla.”
“Oh, let me see.”
He shook his head, his cheeks flushing. “You’d throw up if you saw this.”
“No, I wouldn’t.”
He put his hand out, fingers spread. “Trust me, you would.”
Chloe grinned back at him and waved as he walked out into the night. “Oh, remember the dinner at Diana’s tomorrow!”
He said, “I’ll see if I can swing by.”
Chloe turned around, and Wes was facing her. He held out his arms, and she ran into them. She didn’t have any words left in her, and he didn’t seem to either, but when his hot breath whispered against her cheek, “I love you,” the tension between them from the last few days melted away.
It was Shayla who ruined the moment.
“What is wrong with you guys? Those stupid clowns are after us. Us. Don’t you see that? It’s not the time to kiss and make up. We need to fortify this place like they did in Night of the Living Dead and board up the windows and doors. The Harvest Parade is in two days. The clowns will be swarming this town, this house, like zombies. Aren’t you listening to me?”
She picked up a glass vase off a wall shelf and threw it at the living room wall.
Chloe tensed in Wes’s arms, and moved to go pick up the pieces, but he held her still.
Wes sighed into Chloe’s hair. He spoke gently, “Shayla?”
“What.”
“At leas
t it’s not a zombie clown apocalypse.”
Chloe stepped back and looked at Wes. “Did you make a joke?”
Shayla shook her head, but there was the hint of a smile on her face. “That wasn’t even funny.”
He said gently, “I won’t let clowns, zombies—or zombie clowns hurt this family.”
“Promise?” asked Shayla.
Wes held out his wounded hand to her. “Promise.”
Shayla hesitated a minute before taking it, and he pulled her into their embrace. Chloe put her arm around the blue-haired girl, and Shayla embraced Chloe back. “I didn’t mean what I said about you earlier.”
“I know,” said Chloe.
“I love you,” Shayla then added, “Mom.”
Chloe hugged the teen close to her. “I love you, too.”
A moment later, Chev’s bedroom door squeaked open, and he wormed his way into the middle of the three of them, completing the family circle. A hug was a small comfort in the world of clowns and chaos, but even the smallest of comforts must have an end as well as a beginning.
It would be their last embrace.
Subscribe to my newsletter! In addition to learning when the next book in the Girl Clown Hatchet series comes out, you’ll receive an exclusive link to a youtube video of me reading my illustrated poem I Killed a Clown Today. Click Here.
About the Author
Mav Skye has never chased down a clown and whacked it with a hatchet. She hopes to keep it that way. When she isn’t plotting world take over or hiding from the sun, you’ll find her spray painting random objects to make them look cooler, talking true crime, and dreaming up wild stories.
www.mavskye.com
I’d love to hear from you. Hit me up!
@MavSkye
mavskye
www.mavskye.com
[email protected]
Also by Mav Skye
Stand Alone Novels
Wanted: Single Rose
Clown with a Hatchet Series
Girl Clown Hatchet
Chasing Clowns—January of 2017
Clown Apocalypse—April of 2017
Supergirls Series
Supergirls 1: Behind the Black Door
Supergirls 2: Night without Stars
Supergirls 3: Ghost of a Chance—Coming Soon!
Tales to Chill Your Bones series:
Scarecrows
Witches
ShapeShifters
BunnyMan
Abyss
Tales to Chill Your Bones, Boxset 1-5
Graveyards
Deadly Women
Werewolves
Dolls
Clowns—Coming Soon!
Short Stories
The Undistilled Sky
Harvester of Days
