It felt good to put the screws to Benjamin for once. The arrogant prick had, on more than one occasion, stuck it to David and all of his crew just because he could. It was nice being able to turn the tables on him and make him squirm.
“Fine,” Benjamin said after a lengthy silence. “I'm on my way now.”
David hung up without responding. He turned back to the monitors just in time to see St. Thomas entering Jessa from behind.
***
Samantha huddled in the corner of the bathroom with Briana's comfy pink robe covering her. She hadn't been able to stop shivering when her fellow actress barged in and locked the door behind her, so Briana had taken off her robe and was now trying to calm Sam down with a naked pep talk.
“Whatever it is, you can talk to me,” Briana cooed. “I've been there. Trust me. I won't judge you.”
“Hu-hu-he,” Samantha stuttered, trying to get the words out, “he wuh-wuh-was in the road. I ha-ha-ha-hit he-he-him wu-wu-with my ca-ca-ca-car!”
“Where was this, baby? You can tell me. It's okay.”
“In th-th-the ah-ah-all-lee,” Samantha said, her cold, quivering lips unable to form more than basic sounds. “I wu-wu-was try-hing tatatata take-ha sh-sh-short cut tu-tu-to sah-sah-set.”
“Did anyone one see you?”
Samantha shook her head no.
“Are you sure?”
“I thu-thu-think s-s-so,” she managed, causing a new round of trembling to rock through her.
“What was it—like a homeless guy?”
Samantha nodded, tears streaking out of her eyes and spilling onto the fluffy pink robe.
“It's a coin toss,” Briana said, pacing back and forth lost in thought. “On the one hand you can pretend it didn't happen and just get the car fixed. I know a guy with an auto body shop in Pacoima that chops cars on the side. They'll handle it without questions or even a record of them working on it, if you pay them extra. These days though there are so many fucking cameras out there that you never know when it might come back to bite you in the ass.”
“Hu-hu-he ju-ju-jumped out at muh-muh-me,” Samantha managed, now growing scared at the thought of being questioned by the police. Briana was right. What if the guy died? She'd hit him hard and his leg was mangled. What if the story she told the cops contradicted the evidence and they ended up hauling her off for murder? She'd seen it a thousand times on the murder shows on cable; dumb criminals tripped up by their own mistakes and locked up for years. She didn't want to be one of them.
“You other option is that we can sit here and come up with a story to give them that will clear you of any wrong doing,” Briana said with a knowing look in her eyes. “I'm sure you've heard all about how I accidentally ran over Harry with the car?”
Samantha nodded. Everyone in the business knew that story. Harry Steele was a cocky new male porn star who loved to brag about how he competed in motocross sports and MMA before getting into the business. What he didn't tell anyone was that he loved crack cocaine, which was how he got forced out of both and into the seedy underworld of adult movies. He didn't have to. Word got around fast that his transition from rising X Games super star to lowly meat puppet, the term affectionately used by industry folk for male performers, was due to his reckless enthusiasm for rocked up cocaine and how violently irrational it made him. When Samantha heard that Briana, a former contract girl who used to compete in beauty pageants, was dating the loud mouth she thought it was a bad joke. Harry put on a good face for a few weeks, swearing off drugs and alcohol long enough to convince her to move in with him. Once Briana's bags were unpacked he was right back to his old crack smoking self. His work dried up when he stopped showing up to set on time and soon he was pawning her jewelry to feed his rampant addiction. According to the police report that leaked on TMZ, they were arguing over him going to rehab when he hauled off and punched her in the face, knocking her to the floor. For the next few hours he held her hostage, beating her in between smoking crack from three different pipes and threatening to kill her. Briana claims she eventually managed to escape the apartment, but that he chased her as she ran outside and locked herself in the car. She told police that she pulled out and was driving up the street when Harry ran out in front of the car, and the reason there were no skid marks was because he unexpectedly leaped out at her.
Harry never lied about beating her, but claimed he didn't know what he was doing because he was so high on drugs at the time. He said that as he ran out of drugs an overwhelming guilt settled over him, causing him to want to flee in shame. According to his version of events, he ran out the front door to get as far away from what he had done as possible. Briana chased after him in a fit of anger, jumping in the car and running him down in the middle of the street before leaving him for dead. Harry survived, but was paralyzed from the waist down. He was sentenced to ten years for what happened that day and, as far as any of them knew, was now enjoying his showers in the prison sitting down.
“Well I'm sure then that you know it wasn't no accident either,” Briana admitted. “That bastard terrorized me for three full hours, hitting me over and over again and burning me with his crack pipes.”
“Gu-gu-god,” Samantha sputtered.
“It was only when he'd smoked up all his stash that he started feeling sorry for what he did. I couldn't let it go. I couldn't let him do that to me and just walk away. So when I saw him running down the middle of the street in his underwear I knew what I had to do. I honked so he'd turn around. Had to do it three times to get his attention, then I ran that cocksucker down and left him for dead. And do you know why I got away with it?”
Samantha shook her head.
“Because I stuck to my story and never backed down. That's what we need you to do. We'll come up with a good story and you'll stick to it. Yes, you hit a guy and drove off, but you were scared for your life. That's why you left the scene. You were terrified.”
“Hu-hu-he bu-bu-bit m-m-me,” Samantha said, holding up her arm to show Briana. “when I stu-stu-stopped.”
“That's perfect,” Briana said, kneeling down and hugging Samantha. “He jumped out at you, high as a kite and acting crazy, and you hit him. When you stopped to help him he attacked you so you fled. You came straight here so you could get help. They can't arrest you for that!”
Briana reached into the pockets of her robe and pulled out her iPhone. She dialed 911, but it went to a busy signal. She dialed again and got the same thing.
“That's odd,” Briana said, staring at her phone. “Must be the service in this old warehouse. I swear I never get service on any set I shoot on, especially downtown.”
There was a loud knock at the door that made them both jump.
“What's going on in there?” Evan's muffled voice asked from the other side. “Do we need to find a replacement or are we making progress? Our director is going to need to know soon either way.”
“We're gonna be just fine,” Briana lied. “Give us a few more minutes and we'll be out.”
“Okay, I'll let him know,” Evan said, the sound of his footsteps shuffling off coming from the other side of the door.
“Thu-thu-thu-thank-ke-ke-kah-yu-yu-you,” Samantha managed. “I'm su-su-so cold.”
“That's just the shock,” Briana said, sliding back down next to Samantha and hugging her with one arm. She used the other one to redial 911 on her phone. “That will pass. We're just gonna sit right here until you start to feel better.”
Samantha leaned over and let her head softly rest on Briana's oversized fake breasts. She felt feverish now, her stomach churning loudly as her skin began to crawl. Somewhere under the nausea there was a hunger forming in her with a mind of its own. Her thoughts, which had felt clouded and tangled, seemed to melt away as the urge to feed rose through her like a burning metal spike. She felt like she was falling, vanishing into the hunger, the only thing that made any sense anymore. It was only when she heard the high pitched shriek coming from above her that she realized she was bit
ing into Briana's ample breasts, tearing the skin away from the saline implants in jagged strips.
Warm salty metallic blood flooded into her mouth giving her indescribable pleasure. Briana shrieked again and began hitting her over the head, but Samantha just dug in deeper, clamping her teeth down hard onto Briana's breastbone. Briana writhed naked and helpless in the slick puddle of her own blood as her co-star fed on her, eyes wide in fright, mouth gaping open in a silent scream giving her an expression of being locked in the throes of ineffable ecstasy. The last thing she saw before she passed out was her implants flopping out onto the wet tile with a splash.
***
“We don't have time for this shit today,” David shouted at the locked bathroom door. He mistook the sound of low moaning behind it for an impromptu lesbian tryst, which only made him madder. They could screw around and get high and eat each other out all they wanted to off set, but today he needed them fully focused. “If we get off track again today we could end losing hours and going heavy into overtime. And I don't have it. I've already called Benjamin. He's on his way.”
“Correction,” Benjamin said, sliding up behind David and the rest of the assembled crew with the stealth of a garden snake moving through tall grass. “I'm already present.”
“She's been locked in the bathroom for over an hour,” David said, waving his hands over his head in frustration. “I'm out of ideas.”
“Her car was all busted when she showed up,” Evan explained to Benjamin. “She went straight from the parking lot to the bathroom. I sent in Briana to talk to her.”
“And now she's not answering either,” David screeched in anger. “I'd fire everyone if I didn't have my fucking balls in a vice grip to bring this thing in on budget.”
“Briana is a drug addict,” Benjamin said, rolling his eyes. “That's why she was with Harry so long. It's possible they are in there too high to respond. For all we know they are overdosing right now. Is there another key to the door?”
“Another key?” David's eyes bugged out in amazement. “Oh why didn't we think of that? Gee thanks, Benjamin.”
“There's no need to be rude, David,” Benjamin said with a sneer. “I'm just asking questions to see how I can help.”
“I put a call in to the location company to see if the owner has a spare key around,” Evan said calmly, trying to lower the tension on set. “I haven't heard back yet, but my phone has been getting really spotty reception the last few hours.”
“Everything has gone to shit since your girl showed up,” David snorted.
“What do you suggest I do, David? Please tell me.”
“I don't fucking know! Shit! I swore I wasn't going to lose my temper today. You know what? Fuck it. If you're not going to do anything about it I'm going to call the cops. They can handle it. Then I'll just have her replaced.”
“You have insurance on this shoot, correct?”
“Of course I have fucking insurance,” David screamed. “Hive Mind made me take out two million, just in case.”
“Fine,” Benjamin said. “Then you won't mind if I try knocking down the door?”
“Have at it, my man,” David replied, stepping out of the way. Evan lowered his head, using his right hand to cover his smile. He knew the porn gossip columns would have a field day with the news that Benjamin had to kick a door open on set and drag out his drugged up starlet, Cherry Haze. Someone on set was bound to have anonymously leaked it already from a secret email address. He couldn't wait to check the usual ones on his cell, to see how close they’d gotten to the full scoop.
“Listen up, girls. This is your final warning,” Benjamin said theatrically, puffing his chest up and giving everyone around him a show. “Either open up now or back away from the door. I'm coming in.”
Benjamin charged towards the door, lifting up his right foot and planting it squarely in the middle of the door. The force of the kick was more than enough to do the job. The old wooden door remained as firm as ever, but the frame around it and part of the dry wall tore off, sending Benjamin sprawling onto the blood-slicked floor. The girls were on him in seconds. Benjamin pulled himself into a ball and began to scream as they bit the back of his neck, head, and fingers.
“GET THESE FUCKING CRACK WHORES OFF OF ME!!!”
David and Evan watched in horror, able to see what Benjamin couldn't. The simple fact of the matter was that the women climbing all over Benjamin weren't human anymore. These weren't junkies doing bizarre things on a bath salt high. Briana's entire chest had been chewed open down to the white of her bones. Samantha had streaks of oily filth bleeding from her eyes and mouth. She'd bitten through most of her lower lip in her savage hunger.
“Jesus fucking Christ, bro,” David exclaimed. “What's wrong with them?”
“I don't want to find out,” Evan said grimly.
“BLOODY HELL! DON'T JUST STAND THERE! DO SOMETHING!” Benjamin wailed in pain afraid to lift his head. Samantha looked up at David and Evan, and let out a primal roar that sent chills down their spines. David stepped back quickly, tripping over an apple box and landing hard on his ass.
“Son of a bitch!” he roared.
“Fuck it,” Benjamin screamed. “I'll do it myself!”
The angry agent shoved Samantha back as hard as he could. Her arms flailed wildly as she stumbled back, tripping over the toilet and crashing into the wall. Benjamin turned and punched Brianna as hard as he could in the stomach, but it had little effect. Scrambling to his feet he began to back slowly out of the room.
“You're fucking finished in this business,” Benjamin bellowed. “Do you hear me? That goes for both of you! And I'm pressing charges! A stint in prison is what you both need to get clean. Fucking animals!”
He wheeled around to David and Evan, anger blazing in his eyes.
“And if either of you repeats a word of this,” Benjamin began, but he never got the chance to finish. Brianna and Samantha lunged at him in unison, tackling him around the knees. Benjamin slipped on the blood-slick floor and went down again. The girls climbed over him like ravenous hyenas, biting and tearing at his face and chest. A high-pitched cry like air escaping from a stretched balloon filled the air. David felt queasy as he watched in horror as the girls feasted on their former agent. The last thing he saw was Samantha bite through Benjamin's trousers and tear off his genitals. David could no longer hold back. He doubled over and hurled so hard his legs cramped.
Evan, on the other hand, saw an opportunity to contain the problem and wasted no time taking it. He shot forward with the grace of a jungle cat, leaning in to the bathroom and pulling the door shut again by the handle. He held it in place while David scrambled back up to his feet.
“Hurry. Get something to secure this,” Evan shouted as something thumped hard on the other side of the door. “Some rope or a stinger. I don't give a shit. Just do it fast! We all gotta get out of here before this shit spreads.”
“I think we're too late,” David said. The lighting guys had opened up the side of the studio to move in prefabricated sets for the next shot. David could see clear out into the parking lot where an army of ragged looking creatures in tattered human clothing was latching on teeth first to any living thing that moved. They were trapped. It would only be a matter of minutes at most before they reached him.
“Shit! What the fuck are we gonna do?”
David walked over to the prop cart near video village and stared down at the guns they'd been using on the show. There were several automatics, but they had all been modified to “solid plug” so that the barrels of each were blocked off. Gunpowder flashes were easy enough to add later in editing and no one wanted any mistakes on set with live rounds of ammo. They'd compensated for the lack of bullets by using zirc hits to create a ricochet special effect spark against a steel door. Even if David had the bullets to go with the guns he'd be unable to get them to fire. The firing mechanism had been removed from most of them as an extra precaution.
There is only one working gun on
this set, David thought. St. Thomas's pistol.
He picked up the handgun Stephen had used earlier in the shoot to kill a rival drug dealer that crossed him. They'd filled the blanks to half load, but he'd warned Stephen not to mess around anyway. A half load blank could still tear through a phone book at point blank range. Digging through the ammo David quickly realized he only had three shots left and that he'd have to get far closer than he planned on ever being to one of these things in order to kill it. He scooped the blanks up anyway, his fingers fumbling as he stuffed them deep into the pockets of his designer True Religion jeans.
“On the count of three we run to the scissor lift,” David yelled, waving the gun towards set. They'd opted to use construction lifts for several shots instead of setting up the crane, purely to save time. Once activated they could reach as high up as nineteen or twenty feet which would be well clear of the monsters below. They would simply have to wait it out until help arrived.
“Got it,” Evan shouted back.
“One, two, three!”
Evan let go of the door and charged with David through set, climbing onto the scissor lift. The wretched undead were already starting to push their way into the building. The sounds of screaming could be heard echoing off the studio walls. David turned the key and began raising the lift without noticing a cable was still attached. It looped underneath a heavy light pointed onto set, pulling it down as they rose up and out of harm's way. A loud crash rang out as the light fell through the paper scrim covering the window, and the barn door fell off rattling on the ground.
“What's that smell?”
“You mean the raw sewage smell?” Evan asked. “I think it's coming from them, to be honest.”
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