Eventually, they stopped practicing tumbling, and moved on to mounts. Alicia assembled the squad and demonstrated the stunt she wanted to work on. She jumped up into the hands of her bases, arched her back and lifted her leg way up for a perfectly straight needle pose. Then, she was launched high into the air, sweeping the extended leg under her for a smooth pike backflip into the cradle of her bases' arms. Everyone felt a slight rush of fear at the peak of Alicia's jump, but when she landed safely, their unleashed tension propelled them into a burst of amazed, relieved applause. It was a very showy stunt, sure to go over well with a crowd, but at the same time, most of the girls were glad they'd be safe on the ground when it was happening.

To give the other two fliers, Victoria and Melissa C. credit, neither of them seemed intimidated. They asked Alicia a few questions, worked a few things out with their bases, and that was all the preparation they needed.

Lindsey and Samantha stood facing each other in front of Melissa C., knees slightly bent, hands out in front of them to catch the girl's feet. “Ready?” Melissa C. asked.

“Ready,” Lindsey confirmed. So Melissa C. put her hands on their shoulders for support, and jumped up.

As soon as her left sneaker fell into Lindsey's hand, Lindsey knew something was wrong. She let go of the sneaker and pulled away immediately. Samantha was not so lucky.

The weight of Melissa C.'s foot was too much for the girl to bear. Samantha's legs buckled beneath her, and her hands were driven to the hardwood with a loud, sickening crunch. It wasn't unusual to hear a scream or two at Sunnycrest's cheerleading practice, although they were usually giddy, playful, and girlish. The scream now echoing throughout the gym was none of these. It was harsh and guttural, jagged with pain.

Melissa C. removed her foot in horrified shock, as the other girls began to flock to the scene. Samantha's hands were a mangled mess. She still had them side by side, as though waiting to give a boost. The middle was pressed flat in the shape of Melissa C.'s shoe, with blood, muscle and bone fragments squeezing out the sides. More screams came as the cheerleaders saw this.

“Wh-wh-what the hell? What happened?!” cried Victoria.

“S-somebody get the nurse!” shouted Alicia. “No, just call 9-1-1!”

“I...I'm sorry!” blubbered Melissa C. “Oh, my god, Samantha, I'm so sorry! Oh, my god!”

“She...she weighs like a million tons!” replied Lindsey, shocked beyond politeness. “I only barely got out of the way in time!”

Alicia glanced at thin, graceful Melissa C. “That's ridiculous, Lindsey. She can't weigh more than one-twenty-five, one-thirty maybe.” But when she looked back at Samantha she felt her eyes must be deceiving her. Only something incredibly heavy could have done so much damage.

Melissa C. finally emerged from her panic and confusion enough to realize what happened. It was her new body. The new things in her, the things that Agent Stevens and Lawrence said made her more than human. Even though she felt lighter on her feet than she ever had before, she was heavy, immensely heavy. She staggered back, away from the scene. “I, I didn't know!” she pleaded. “I swear, I-I didn't know when I jumped!”

Her eyes were indicating Samantha had an elevated heart rate. They were showing her a diagram of exactly where all the fractures in her hands were. A popup informed her that her mind had finished analyzing the voice print of Samantha's scream, and was matching it to her profile.

What the hell was she? What had she become?

She released what she thought was a sob, but what the others heard as a buckling, mournful howl. She turned and ran from the gym, tears streaming down her face.

....

“Hey, Rick. Hey, Trudy,” greeted Caitlin's mom. She was addressing two of her coworkers. She knew them on a first name basis, but the rest of Sunnycrest knew them by the gold name tags pinned to their chests, opposite their badges: Ball and Taylor, respectively. The two partners were talking by the official SCPD headquarters coffee machine, each holding steaming mugs. Caitlin's mom, her own name tag glinting 'BOYD' in the afternoon sunlight, grabbed a mug and loosed the coffeepot from its dock to pour herself into the conversation.

“Afternoon, Lara,” answered Officer Ball. “How's it going?”

“Going great, going great,” she answered with enthusiasm.

Officer Taylor observed Officer Boyd's cheery mood, and guessed, “New boyfriend?”

Boyd smirked. She docked the coffee pot and raised her mug in a toast. “Yeah, right. More like I'm remembering how great it is to be single. I've been helping Caitlin get ready for the Harvest Dance these past few days. So much fun. I couldn't have done it with a boyfriend sucking up all my free time.” Remembering something, she lifted a finger off her mug's warm ceramic surface to point at them. “I'm sure you two are all sunshine and rainbows as well, after finally getting taken off the McGuff's Pass search.”

“Got that right,” answered Ball.

“She went back to school today. Hopefully that's the end of this; I never wanna have to set foot in those woods again,” agreed Taylor.

The comment almost floated past Boyd, but she snagged it just at the last second. Her eyes widened, and her mouth lifted from the rim of her mug before she could take a drink. “Wait, who did? The girl? You actually found her?! I didn't know that!”

“Oh, yeah,” confirmed Taylor. “She's been laid up in the hospital for a few weeks now. Honestly, I can't believe they were able to save her. She was in a terrible state when we found her. Poor kid.”

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Boyd leaned back on a desk. “Wonder why I didn't hear about it...” she said curiously. Hell, even if she didn't hear it around the department, it should have been on the news. Those missing kids were a huge story for a while, even though it dried up as McBride kept the investigation silent. Even finding one of them would have been a big deal.

“That guy from Washington? Stevens?” asked Ball. Boyd knew him. He had shown up not long after the Chief's mysterious death, primarily, it seemed, to make sure it stayed mysterious. There were rumors that a fifth cannibal was involved in the chief's murder, but these remained merely rumors. Stevens explained that the McGuff's Pass disappearances had been his primary case for years, and that he'd be assisting them in their ongoing investigation. “Assisting” wasn't really how she'd describe it though. Even though they set him up in the station, in McBride's former office, she never saw him. He stayed shut up either in the office or the basement, which he kept locked and had sort of claimed as a base of operations for any work too top secret to share with the rest of them (essentially everything).

When Ball saw the recognition in her eyes, Ball explained: “He's been keeping it on the down low.”

“What's he have to do with it?”

Taylor shrugged. “He took over the whole case after we found her. Sounds like it's been officially placed under federal jurisdiction.” She drained the last few drops in her cup. “Besides, sounds like the poor girl's still in shock. A fragile mental state. Parents don't want the media pestering her.”

Boyd took her first thoughtful sip. She supposed that made sense. “I should pay her a visit, see how she's doing. She's Caitlin's squadmate. I've known her parents for years.”

“Yeah, well, don't let Stevens hear about that,” warned Taylor. “He doesn't want any cops poking around either.”

This didn't deter her one bit. Looking coy, she took another drink. “Nothing wrong with concerned friends of the family, right?”

......

While Cannibal Cruise Liner VII was perfectly enjoyable on its own merits, Cannibal Cruise Liner and Cannibal Cruise Liner II: Anchors Entree provided some much-needed backstory that lent considerable depth and context to the characters and their motivations. Chase couldn't wait to rewatch Part VII with new eyes.

This being a private showing, the atmosphere of this double feature was, naturally, a lot different than the previous night's. Torey and Chase were the only ones there—no fellow patrons and not even any workers. They had to start the movies themselves and help themselves to some candy from behind the counter. The drive-in parking lot was cold, quiet and barren aside from Torey's lone car. Chase honestly found it a bit creepy.

During a lull in Cannibal Cruise Liner II, she heard a noise that probably didn't exist. “What that?” she asked, tensing for combat and looking out the window.

“What what?” replied Torey.

“Hear sound. Like thump of hooves. Might be ghost,” she answered.

“Ghosts have hooves?”

But the mysterious hooved ghost never attacked, and the rest of the movie was quite enjoyable. Though the atmosphere of the empty drive-in was a little eerie, Chase also found it somewhat personal. Even intimate. She felt closer to Torey than she did last night. It was easier to open up, easier to unwind, without the worry looming over her of facing judgment from his friends. She grew so comfortable, so completely at ease, that when Cannibal Cruise Liner II's credits began to roll, she had a question for him.

“I totally forgot about that life preserver kill. Pretty ironic when you stop and think about it,” Torey commented.

“Hey, Tor? You want go to Harv Dance with me?” asked Chase in response.

The question came out of nowhere, with no pause or hesitation. Torey seemed, for a second, unsure of what he'd just heard. Then, Chase watched redness overtake his face as his cool demeanor vanished. “Wh-wh-what? What did you say?”

“Am need date for Harv. Want you come. I go where you are, now you come where me are,” she explained.

This was a reasonable clarification, but it didn't really help Torey pull himself together. “Wh...Wait, why me?” He gave an overworked laugh, uncertain but with a hasty, spottily applied layer of nonchalance. “You barely know me.”

“I barely know all mans,” she replied assuredly. “I like Tor, so no big deal how long for to know.”

The boy's eyes bulged. “You...wait, you like me?”

She was surprised that he would question it. “Yes! Tor nice. Bring to films, give food. Plus Tor look good. Want date who look good.”

At this, he gave another laugh, but this one felt more natural. “If you say so. But isn't the guy supposed to ask?”

Chase considered this. “No, Chase ask. Chase is hunt, Chase is catch. This law of Chase. It make sense that Chase is ask.”

Her hand was resting on the center console. Torey felt compelled to reach over and grab it. So he did. Now, it was Chase's turn to blush. “You know Chase, I really like how blunt you are, how you just throw it all out there. You're a really refreshing person to be around. Sure, I'll go with you.”

“You fresh too, thanks.”

Then, Torey closed his eyes. He leaned in. His mouth drew close to Chase's own, so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her lips. She punched him.

“Aaow!” he exclaimed, his eyes jolting open.

“What you do?” she accused, scandalized. “You try eat! Just want dance, not eat!”

He struggled not to laugh. “No, no...” he assured her, putting a hand to his sore cheek. “I wasn't trying to eat you, I guarantee you that. I was—” He fell silent. Whatever he had been trying to do, he seemed a bit embarrassed to say it.

Still on full alert, she sternly prodded, “What do?”

Sheepishly, the boy answered, “Well, I was, uh...” he averted his eyes, “...going for a kiss.”

The mountain girl didn't understand. “Go for kiss,” she repeated, confused.

“Er, yeah. You've heard of them, right?” asked Torey. Chase shook her head. “It's, uh, meant as a nice thing. There's no face eating involved.”

“No eat?” she asked. “Mouth on face, but no bite or eat? What else to do?”

Torey cleared his throat and, with a shaking hand, rattled his key into the ignition. “Look, uh, sorry, just forget it. We'll talk about it some other time. I'll take you home.”

From up in a tree behind the drive-in, a shadowy figure heard the car's engine roar to life, and saw it too: a hot blob of reds, yellows and white. The two glowing shapes inside had turned whiter during the failed kiss, but as they drove away, were reverting to their usual, darker shades.

Melissa C. switched from thermal vision to night vision, and followed at a distance.