Page 59 of Primal

We plow through the bushes. My throat’s clogged. Lana’s panting, her shoulder knocking mine every few strides.

“Any idea which way she went?”

I shake my head. If survival odds were based on sense of direction, I’d be the first to go. Maybe Vanessa’s digging the hole for both of us.

Lana hisses Kristy’s name into the dark.

I follow her lead, whisper-shouting, “Kristy?”

“Probably doubled back to the restroom,” Lana mutters. “If anyone’s pausing mid-horror show to fix their hair, it’s her.”

A dry laugh escapes me. “Sounds about right.”

Lana pulls out a flashlight. The beam wavers across the trees.

“We’ll swing by the restrooms,” Lana mutters. “If she’s not there …”

I swallow. “Then we head for base.”

We press forward.

“Kristy?” My voice comes out thin. A child’s voice. The kind dark rooms swallow. Bad dreams too.

A glimmer. Off to the right. Neon green.

“There.” I point.

Lana angles the flashlight. More glow sticks pop into view.

“Kristy and I passed these earlier. They should lead us to the trailer.”

“Let’s go.” Lana steps forward—

And bumps into a figure. Tall. Imposing.

“Jesus fuck—”

Lana jerks back, her elbow slamming into my ribs. The beam catches Ghostface—then the flashlight hits the ground.

“That’s him,” I choke out.

Ghostface closes the gap.

“Run!” Lana shoves me sideways.

I hit the dirt before I feel it.

She spins to face him, arms raised—empty-handed.

Ghostface swings. Lana grabs for his wrist, fingers closing around leather. The knife trembles between them.

Is she … winning?

I scramble to my knees. She’s actually—

He twists—ramming Lana into a tree.

No. He’s choking her.