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“Who—what are you—“
I try to dig my heels into the earth, to pull my arms free, but they’re dragging me along at double speed, deeper into the park, where the trees grow close together and there’s no streetlamps at all.
One of them flings me down beneath an oak tree. The back of my head smacks against the base of the trunk, and suddenly three Mr. Boneses crowd around me, their painted skull masks tilting, the black holes of their eyes staring down at me.
“Looky what you found…,” the third and largest Mr. Bones says, his voice horribly familiar. “The little troublemaker…”
He bends, reaching for me. I kick up with both feet as hard as I can, booting him in the center of his ugly, grinning mask. His nose makes a nauseating cracking sound, and blood bursts from under the hand he claps to his face as he howls, “You little bitch!”
One of his friends kicks me hard in the back, and the other seizes my arms. I’m shouting and thrashing with all my might, but it takes about two seconds for them to subdue me. I couldn’t fight off one of these guys, let alone all three of them.
“You’re gonna regret that, you filthy fucking cunt,” the biggest one snarls.
Even when he’s choking and snuffling on his own blood, I recognize his voice, which means I have a pretty good idea who his buddies are, too.
He grabs my knees, wrenching them apart, ripping at my scarlet-colored leggings. It takes a man really unleashing his force on you to realize how much stronger they are—even if he’s panting and puffing ‘cause he’s not in that great of shape.
His buddies yank so hard on my arms it feels like they’re about to pull out of their sockets.
Thick, prodding fingers grope my body, pinching bruises everywhere he touches, while his weight crushes me into the dirt. He fumbles with his buckle, that hideous cowboy belt I recognize all too well…
I can’t stop him. Can’t even slow him down.
All I can do is say, “I guess you did try to warn me…didn’t you, Sheriff?”
He freezes in the act of tearing off my underwear.
“How does she—“ one of his friends mutters.
“Shut up,”Sheriff Shane snarls. “It doesn’t matter—she’s not walking out of here.”
His meaty hand closes around my throat.
Fucking brilliant, Remi. When will you learn to keep your mouth shut?
I guess right now…
He squeezes until my eyes water and the trees spin like a carousel. The glow-in-the-dark Mr. Bones masks whirl around me, grinning, cackling…only now there seems to be four of them, one crouched down low and watching from the bushes…
I can’t shout, can’t scream, can’t breathe…the carousel spins faster and faster…
“Fucking take it, bitch,” the sheriff grunts, pulling his cock free of his pants at last.
It flops against my thigh, moist like a slug.
Then several things happen at once.
A figure in black swings a branch like a baseball club, slamming it into the side of the sheriff’s head. The guy holding my right arm turns to see what the fuck is going on, and I take the opportunity to kick him in the jaw. I kind of miss with the first kick, but the second hits just right, sending him tumbling backward.
The guy on my left retaliates with a sucker punch to the side of my skull. Stars explode across my vision, and now I’m not sure how many Mr. Bones are around because I’m seeing double of everything.
While it was a pretty good punch, it was a very bad idea because the plague doctor throws his branch aside and tackles my assailant with a roar, slamming him onto his back and pounding his face again and again with both fists.
The beaked mask slips and I see part of Dane’s face, his expression contorted in rage as he hits the prone Mr. Bones over and over.
Dazed, I roll over and vomit across the roots of the oak tree. My head is spinning, and I can barely lift myself up on all fours.
Images leap around me like phosphorescent flames: Dane pounding the guy that punched me, blood all over his fists. The smallest Mr. Bones darts forward to attack the sheriff, hitting him five or six times in the chest, almost faster than I can see, then rolling away. The one I kicked in the jaw fumbles in his pocket.
