As soon as Seth entered the slaughterhouse, a man stepped out of the shadows and clobbered him with a sledgehammer. The sudden movement made Alex jump, and she clamped a hand over her mouth to suppress her scream. She couldn’t see well from this distance, but she heard Seth slump to the concrete. He started to twitch on the ground.

Holy shit!

The man grabbed Seth, tossed him over his shoulder, and retreated into the shadows. He was gone as fast as he’d arrived.

That wasn’t good. Alex shivered against the pine trunk she was hiding behind. Was Seth dead? He had to be. That blow from the sledgehammer must have cracked his skull. And if Seth was dead, then Will must be dead too. Leaving Alex utterly alone.

She squeezed her eyes tight and choked down a sob. Tears streamed across her cheek, cold against her raw flesh. This couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t fair. This was just supposed to be a fun trip for her movie. Now Jess was dead, and Seth, and probably Will. And it was all her fault.

Why did Seth go in there? Why did he listen to her? They should have just run away on foot, like he’d said. But no, Alex had convinced him to save Will. Stupid. So fucking stupid.

It was too late for him. But maybe Alex could make it on her own. If she waited here for a bit longer, waited until it was truly dark out. Then she could strike across the cornfield, reach the main road, and walk until she found a sign of civilization. She could do it. She’d studied the maps and the satellite photos, and she was sure she could find her way back to Shelby.

But Alex didn’t deserve to escape. Not without the others. This trip had been her idea, and now she was the last survivor. Maybe it would be better if she died too. It was the least she deserved. Alex ran her finger along the hatchet’s blade. The cold metal was still stained with Riles’s blood, black and burnt as it was. She could end things herself before any of these twisted farmers found her.

It was the coward's way out, but at least it was fair.

No, Alex knew she wasn’t making any sense. She squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath, and tried to relax.

There was still a possibility that Seth was alive. Sure, that sledgehammer had got him good. But he was infected with the same parasite that Riles had been, and she’d been nearly immortal. Of course, the way Seth explained things, that was probably one of her wishes. But neither of them truly understood these parasites. Either way, Alex couldn’t give up on him yet.

And there was a good chance Will was alive. Alex had given up on him too early. The man who hit Seth, that must be Pete. Which meant this was the right spot. Will and the car had to be inside, just as Alex suspected. She owed it to both of them to at least check it out. See if there was any possible way to rescue them.

Before she lost her resolve, Alex pushed herself up and started down the hill. She crept across the pavement as quietly as possible. The door loomed in front of her, and she squinted into it, trying to adjust to the darkness. Pete’s sledgehammer lay by the entrance, forgotten, its head spattered with black blood.

Alex peeked inside. She didn’t see movement to either side. Her fingers clenched the hatchet’s rubber handle in one hand and the flare gun in the other.

A sound, from deeper within the building. A soft creak, like a swinging chain. Then a muffled moan. That had to be Will or Seth. Thank God at least one of them was alive. But Alex had to be careful. She didn’t know where Pete was, and he could be hiding. Waiting for her.

As her eyes adjusted, blocky details faded in from the shadows. Alex stood in a square room filled with metal tables. She prodded toward one, which was slicked with water. No, not water. Blood. Alex suppressed a gag. The blood ran down the side, toward a thick drain in the floor.

The sounds came from deeper within the slaughterhouse. So Alex went in the other direction. It would be better to scout out the rest, just in case Pete was hiding somewhere.

A doorway led into a garage with four bays. One of them held their car. It was here after all. Alex considered getting in. It would be safe inside, and she could turn on the light. But as comforting as that may be, it was also incredibly stupid. And it's not like she had any supplies within. No weapons or tools that could help save her friends.

Alex continued through the garage to a huge room with a vaulted ceiling. Metal railings split the room into a series of pens. Holding cells for the soon-to-be slaughtered cattle. Which left only a final room in the back, where the moaning was coming from.

Soft light spilled near the entrance, an orange glow that flickered with tongues of shadow. Alex slowly approached and peeked her head through the door.

Another open room, slightly smaller than the last. This one held more tables on one side, and the other held a forest of thick chains that swung from the ceiling. Twin meat hooks hung from every chain. Some held huge hunks of meat, dead cattle, already skinned and processed. It seemed the slaughterhouse was still in use.

Pete stood on the far side, lit by an oil lantern. Beside him was another table, set off from the rest, and atop it lay a body. Pete leaned over the body and ran his fingers across its bare arm. The body shivered. It was Will, he was alive. But still restrained, and held captive by a psychopath.

A thick rope tied Will to the table. Alex clenched her grip around her hatchet’s handle. If she could just get close, she could cut him loose. Of course, that wouldn’t work with Pete standing there, watching him like a wolf stalking its prey.

A loud creaking noise startled her, and she almost cried out. Alex glanced at the source of the noise. Just another chain swinging from the ceiling. She looked away, then quickly snapped back to the swinging chain. This one held a chunk of meat, but not from a cow.

Bile bubbled up the back of Alex’s throat, but she couldn’t look away. The meat hook speared through his chest and out his black hoodie. His jean’s frayed fibers caught the oil lamp’s orange glow. He hung from the chain, limp. Dead weight.

Seth…

Tears welled in her eyes, and only then did she look away. Of course, Seth was dead. Alex knew that already, but she’d hoped… well, it was foolish. This place was a living nightmare, and it would be a miracle if any of them made it out alive.

Static crackled from beside the oil lamp, emanating from a radio receiver. “Hey, Pete? You there?” David asked. His voice was warped and muffled, but Alex would recognize the voice anywhere after her interrogation.

Pete stalked over to the receiver, pressed the button, and grunted into the microphone.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“I’ve got bad news,” David said. “I was going to wait for Owen’s approval, but there isn’t time. The intruders escaped. They killed Earl, and now they’ve killed Riles too. I found her body in the woods. We can’t let them get away with this. Forget about capturing them. If you see any of the intruders, kill them. And get rid of the boy, their fearless leader.”

Pete grunted again, then tossed the microphone to the side. He ambled further down the table, where a chainsaw rested on its side.

Holy shit! That wasn’t good. If Alex was going to save Will, she needed to do it fast. She crept forward, but her legs buckled and her knees locked. The hatchet suddenly felt so heavy, and it slipped against her sweaty fingers. Her heart pounded in her chest, the loudest thing she’d ever heard.

The chainsaw was louder.

It rumbled to life as Pete swung it into the air. The stink of burning gas flooded her nostrils. Alex slunk back under the cover of a table and peeked out. She needed to do something. To distract Pete, to run away. Something. Anything.

Instead, Alex could only watch as Pete carved the chainsaw into Will’s arm. Blood sprayed out. The chainsaw’s growl transformed into a high-pitched squeal. Will thrashed against the table, his eyes snapping wide. He screamed, but the chainsaw screamed louder.

Blood filled the air. Flesh split apart. Bone ground into dust. And then the chainsaw was through, the arm falling free and leaving a bloody stump in its wake.

Pete smiled. He lifted the chainsaw, tossed it back on the table behind him. Then he grabbed his prize and lifted it over his head. Blood dripped from the severed arm, ran down its pale flesh like the branches of a crimson tree. Pete pressed the arm to his nose and inhaled deep, savoring the flesh and its copper tang.

Alex gagged. She couldn’t stay here another second. She begged her legs to move, and they finally listened. Even as she slunk into the darkness, she could hear Pete biting into Will’s arm. The grisly kiss of teeth against flesh.

Pete needed to die.

She fled the slaughterhouse, carefully dodging around the chains, the pens, the metal tables, and then she was free. Alex leaned forward, hands on her knees, and she heaved for air. In the darkness, she couldn’t help remembering the spray of blood, the rumble of the chainsaw. It replayed in her head, over and over.

Alex had done nothing to help. And if she waited any longer…

But how could she kill Pete? Alex still held the hatchet, but that was nothing against a chainsaw-wielding maniac. And if he was anything like Riles, he’d just shrug off any damage she caused him.

Maybe the flare gun would work, but Alex doubted it. The only reason Riles had caught fire was because the flare got stuck in her jacket. Alex doubted she would get that lucky again.

There had to be something she could use. The sledgehammer? No, it was too heavy for her to wield effectively. A generator was by the door, and two gas cans lay beside it. Perhaps Alex could douse Pete in gasoline and light him on fire.

A bad plan, but she didn’t have time for anything better. It was a risk she’d have to take.

Alex grabbed a gas can, and the fuel within sloshed to the side, some of it spilling from the nozzle. The can was heavier than she expected, and she doubted her ability to splash Pete with enough gas to kill him. Perhaps a trap would be better.

She was wasting time. Alex grunted as she heaved the can up and poured the gas on the ground, waving it back and forth to coat the slaughterhouse entrance. The fumes stung against her nose, and she splashed some of the gas across her shoes. It didn’t matter. After emptying the first can, she tossed it to the side and dumped the second can as well.

Would that be enough? It would make a huge fire, Alex was sure. But fire hadn’t been enough to kill Riles. She needed something bigger. A proper explosion.

Opposite the generator was a large propane tank. Those could explode, right?

A deep rumble interrupted her thoughts. The chainsaw. Alex was out of time.

She ran over to the propane tank, grabbed the valve, and tried to twist it open. If she could leak some of the propane, it would at least make a bigger fire. But the valve didn’t budge. Alex squeezed her fingers tight and leaned back with all her weight. Her forearms burned from her effort. Still, the valve refused to open.

Fine. Alex sprinted over to the sledgehammer. Her legs splashed through the puddle of gasoline, and it sprayed against her jeans. She snagged the sledgehammer, ran back to the propane tank, and slammed it down on the valve. The whole nozzle broke off, and a sustained hiss filled the air as gas began to leak.

The chainsaw pitched into a high shriek. That would have to be good enough.

Alex ran into the slaughterhouse, uncaring of how loud she was being. Pete couldn’t hear her over the chainsaw anyway. She ran through the jumble of wide rooms, then sprinted toward the glow of the oil lamp. She found Pete just as he lowered the chainsaw over Will’s other arm, the saw a blur of steel, only inches away from flesh.

She needed to get his attention. Quick. Alex reared back and threw the hatchet with all her strength. The axe flipped through the air, hit Pete’s shoulder with a wet thunk, and embedded in his back. Pete lurched from the impact. He stumbled away from Will, then whipped toward Alex, his eyes blazing yellow.

Shit shit shit! Alex turned and ran. Her feet pounded against the concrete. Chains whipped against her face as she sprinted through them. She stumbled against a table, nearly tripped. And as she ran, the chainsaw growled behind her, growing louder with every second.

She ran through the darkness, her thighs screaming with every step. She angled out of the garage, through the final room, then out into the night air. The flare gun trembled in her hand. Alex needed to time this perfectly, but she also needed to gain some distance. Otherwise, she’d be caught in the explosion.

The chainsaw rumbled behind her. No time. Halfway into the parking lot, Alex finally turned around. Pete stood just beyond the doorway, his chainsaw held out, his eyes burning into her with a cold glare.

Alex raised her flare gun and fired at the gas puddle.

The flare streaked through the sky, a bright red comet that slammed by Pete’s feet, skipped off the pavement, then ricocheted into the slaughterhouse. Alex held her breath, begging for the gasoline to light.

A heartbeat later, her wish was granted. A wave of fire whooshed across the puddle, then splashed into a tall conflagration that engulfed Pete in flame. He barely reacted, a dark silhouette against the torrent of fire. And then the propane tank exploded.

The world flashed white, and the shockwave slammed into Alex’s chest, knocking her to the ground. The pavement rumbled. A pebble whipped past her face, tracing a crimson line across her cheek. Her ears rang, and something warm and wet leaked out of them.

Alex rolled over and tried to push herself up. She blinked the tears from her eyes. Even so, she could barely see. A bright glare followed wherever she looked, the afterimage of the explosion burned into her eyeballs.

The fire crackled by the slaughterhouse entrance, much smaller than before. Though the door was still intact, the wall behind the propane tank buckled and crumbled, then collapsed into a heap of broken cinder blocks and rusted metal. The tank itself was split open, the metal unpeeled like a jagged flower.

Pete lay across the pavement. Half his clothes were burned away, and the skin underneath was black and red and it bubbled with pus. Smoke drifted away from him, and it stank of burnt hair. Even so, he slowly got up. He glared at Alex, his twisted smile glowing under the light of the fire.

Alex had nothing left. The explosion was her only chance and it had failed. She couldn’t even run. Every inch of her was cramped and sore, and it felt like she’d been hit by a bus.

The chainsaw rumbled. Pete hefted it, pointed it at her. Then he turned around, stalked back into the slaughterhouse, and slammed the metal door shut. A latch clanked closed behind him, locking her out.

No. Even after all that, Will was going to die.

Alex screamed, and she forced herself to get up, ignoring the pain and exhaustion. She didn’t have a plan but screw it. Her plan hadn’t worked anyway. All she knew was that she needed to get inside.

She reached the door and pulled on its handle. It was locked, as she’d already known. But the explosion had torn a nasty hole in the wall. Unfortunately, the hole was filled with rubble, and the ceiling had collapsed on top of it, sealing any potential entrance. Still, the broken wall gave her an idea.

Alex grabbed the sledgehammer, moved to an intact section of the wall, and slammed the hammer against it. The sledgehammer punched through the cinder block with ease, leaving a small hole. It would take time, but she could force her way inside.