As Mac lowered her heels to the ground, I reluctantly released my hold.
A moment later, a man named Harold, dressed in dirty overalls and carrying a baseball bat, called for our group’s attention. The dozen or so paying customers gathered around while the Haunted Forest employee explained the rules. Basically, there were a series of paths. We could take whichever ones wewanted; they all ended up in the same place—an open field in the middle of the forest next to a small building. I knew from experience that our group would be ushered into the shed, where the workers would play out a scene meant to scare us. The man in the overalls made sure to note that we were not allowed to touch the employees. And they were prohibited from touching us in return.
Mac listened intently, and I wondered if she was taking notes for Grandpappy’s. They already did special ticketed nights in October when their corn maze turned haunted. They hired high schoolers in hockey masks to chase people while loud music played and strobe lights flashed. It was one more shock-value entertainment that Grandpappy’s provided that a smaller farm like Judd’s couldn’t compete with.
“Y’all ready to run for your lives?” Harold asked with a wicked gleam in his eye.
There was a chorus of yeahs from several folks in our group. We moved as one toward the main path, but our orderly line was quickly dispersed as a person in aScreammask jumped out behind us, revving a chainsaw engine.
People took off, separating and darting down different paths. The jump scare startled a laugh out of Mac, but she kept up a leisurely pace. I stayed beside her as most of our group bolted through the trees, leaving us to bring up the rear.
“You know, I’m not sure this is my idea of romantic,” I said after theScream-mask person revved their chainsaw again and went after the teenagers who’d gone down the trail to the right.
Mac shot me a look. “Who said anything about romance?”
“I did. Very specifically, when you begged for a night in my bed.”
She stopped and crossed her arms over her chest. “Hold up, lover boy. Begged? That is not what happened.”
With a smirk, I replied, “Well, that’s the way I remembered it.”
Mac opened her mouth to argue, I was sure, but her eyes widened over my shoulder. “Oh shit.”
I turned and did a double take when I saw a huge guy dressed in a scary clown costume—he had to be six and a half feet tall—with a deranged expression painted on his face in bright, garish stage makeup. Fake blood splatter was allover his colorful clown suit, and he stalked toward us with an ax held in one meaty fist.
“Ugh, not clowns,” I heard Mac moan from behind me.
Grinning, I spun back and grabbed her hand. “Let’s go, scaredy Mac.”
“I’m not scared.” But she definitely squeaked that last word out as the giant clown man growled and darted forward, raising his ax.
I laughed, pulling Mac down the central path as we ran over packed dirt and pine needles. The clown stayed with us—probably sent to herd the stragglers so they could keep our group moving. I heard a chainsaw off to the right, so I kept us running straight.
We slowed as we rounded a bend in the path, and a black light lit the immediate area. I started as a coffin propped beneath the light rattled and shook, shouts coming from within. Just as we passed by, someone dressed as a vampire jumped out and lunged for us.
Mac and I shuffled out of the way, laughing as we went. Out of the range of the black light, the trail grew darker. It widened considerably, and I thought we must be getting close to the shack that was our destination.
“The clown’s back,” Mac breathed, squeezing my hand.
“I think I see lights ahead for the shed,” I told her, glancing over my shoulder to see the manic clown bearing down on us. “Let’s run for it.”
We took off, Mac’s hand in mine, and I thought maybe her idea of a date wasn’t so bad after all. But then, as we reached full speed, my foot hit the ground, and it felt all wrong. My knee buckled as the hard-packed dirt turned to something soft and unexpected. I went down, bracing for impact and then grateful when I fell flat out onto a springy surface. I had only a moment to appreciate that I hadn’t busted my face on the ground before Mac landed fully on top of me.
I wheezed out a breath and tried to roll over, but we were all panic and limbs, and Mac was laughing so hard that she couldn’t speak.
I glanced around, but the clown was nowhere to be found. We were lying on an old mattress that had been imbedded in the dirt, flush with the surrounding ground. Jesus, this place was lucky they hadn’t broken someone’s leg and gotten sued.
“Are you okay?” I asked once I finally maneuvered Mac down beside me.
She was still laughing. “Oh my God. I saw you go down, and I couldn’t stop.” Tears were leaking from the corners of her eyes.
I grinned over at her and teased, “I knew you wanted to get me in bed, but I didn’t think it would be like this.”
Mac cackled again.
I stood on shaky legs and stepped onto the dirt trail. Holding a hand out, I pulled her up to join me. “Come on, let’s go before that demon clown comes back.”
We made it to the shed and survived the fake slaughterhouse encounter there. The path to the exit was through a graveyard, and we didn’t see our clown friend again. Mac and I jumped and shouted when we were startled, then we teased each other and laughed in between.
