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According to my phone's GPS, Grace and Mel had definitely come this way and wherever they’d gone was somewhere along this trail.
I hit the call button and listened to the sound of ringing until I was greeted by an automated voicemail.
This was weird.
Grace’s pin remaining stationary was enough to kick my ass into gear, moving at a pace that was sustainable in heels. The air grew cooler the further I went into the woods, carrying a tincture of earthiness. Loose leaves gathered at my feet, a few twigs peppered among them.
I rounded a small bend, crossing my arms while keeping my cell’s flashlight aimed in front of me. The outline of two people began to take shape in the distance, coming from the opposite direction. As we grew closer to one another I was able to see the way they were dressed.
I slowed, muttering, “What the fuck?”
“Don’t be afraid,” the girl called to me softly.
Said like a true serial killer, I thought bemusedly. The guy with her resembled Twisty the clown and the dark-haired girl at his side was some kind of jester. This made three people now that were wearing costumes when Halloween was nearly four months away.
Seeing they lacked concern or panic made me feel marginally better. If something serious was wrong, I assumed they’d know. Once we were practically shoulder to shoulder, I stopped so that I could ask if they had seen my friends
The jester eyed my outfit with a pout. “You’re not in the right clothes.”
She sounded legitimately disappointed I wasn’t wearing a costume like she was. Instead of pointing out the obvious, I pretended I forgot. “Oh, I wasn’t planning to come. It was a last-minute thing. Did either of you happen to see a group of girls back there?”
A grin that came off more sly than friendly split her face in two. “They’ve been waiting for you.”
What the fuck? I shifted my gaze from her to the clown whose unsettling stare was burning holes into my face. “Are they okay?”
Her toothy grin melted into a closed-mouth smile. With the slightest shrug of her shoulders, she replied with a carefree, “Sure.”
She and the clown walked away then, leaving me to stare at their retreating forms.
“Thanks for your help.”
“Have fun,” she sang softly in return.
What was going on with the people at this party? I turned away and resumed my trek. After three or four more minutes I spotted an opening in the trees a few feet ahead. Grace’s dot still remained in the same location while mine continued to grow closer.
My signal was steadily depleting, but at least I knew that this was the right direction. I reached the end of the path and came to a dead stop, double-checking my phone to confirm what I already knew would be the case.
“Oh, fuck no.”
I hit call on Grace’s number and got voicemail again. I tried Mel next, but her line rang until I got the same thing. Lamia’s phone was still off. Grace had texted me and I could still her location. She would need to be in range for that. So why wasn’t she answering the damn phone? I was beginning to have a bad feeling about this.
I eyed the gated wooden arch that served as an entrance to a cornfield I wasn’t aware existed. Lantern lights had been wrapped around the thick wooden pillars that connected to a tall mesh fence. A large scarecrow with a glowing head was to the immediate right of the entryway.
This field wasn’t visible from the upper level of Sainte’s home. I wasn’t really sure why this was here at all. Did his parents grow corn as a hobby? I scanned the stalks, straining to hear voices, and picked up on a steady stream of music coming from somewhere beyond what I could see.
“Have to be fucking kidding me,” I muttered. Were they partying back here too? At this point, I wanted to say the night couldn’t get any more bizarre and off track, but I wasn’t going to hold my breath on that.
My common sense was screaming not to go into this goddamn field, but I didn’t have much of a choice. Absolute worst-case scenario I’d run into some masked assholes trying to play Children of The Corn. I could handle that.
I stepped through the wooden arch, adding the sole inscription at the very top to memory so I could decipher it later.
Making my way through the field itself wasn’t too bad, wearing the wrong footwear aside. The cornstalks were taller than me and cut my view off from everything else, but the path between them was wide and clear-cut.
I was pleasantly surprised at how good they smelled. They had a lush and rich aroma, with a hint of honey and something floral. After I took a few more predetermined turns a building began to take shape and the sound of music grew louder, the voice of my man Ozzy becoming clearer. Finally, another arch signified the exit point I needed to cross through.
