Jeff Strand - Casket For Sale

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In Graverobbers Wanted (No Experience Necessary), he took a job digging up a shallow grave. It turned out badly. In Single White Psychopath Seeks Same, he took a job as a bodyguard at a séance. It turned out worse. But now, meet the new, improved Andrew Mayhem. He has a real job. He's a better father and husband. And he's vowed to quit accepting money from strange women in coffee shops to perform tasks that go terribly, terribly wrong. This time he's just taking a relaxing camping trip with his family and best friend. No shortcuts. The gas tank is full. The sinister warning of the crazy old man is taken seriously. Unfortunately, when you're Andrew Mayhem, you just can't help being attacked by a group of savage killers bent on inflicting ghastly torture and bringing horrific death. Relentlessly pursued through a booby-trapped forest, it's one crisis after another as Andrew fights to protect his family, loses a body part or two, and faces the single darkest moment of his entire life. Action-packed, twisted, and completely outrageous, Casket For Sale (Only Used Once) is the funniest and scariest Andrew Mayhem adventure yet!

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"Did you find anything?" I asked him.

Kyle had a red purse pressed between his knees and he'd poured the contents out onto his lap. "A phone. But it didn't work."

I took the cell phone from him and dialed. No signal.

"Did you find anything else?"

"These," he said, holding up a strip of condoms.

"Let's put those back in the purse," I said, taking them from him. "And these, too." I replaced the tampons. Joe was on the floor, chewing on a tampon like a bone, so I took it from him and put it in the purse as well.

"Can I have a piece of gum?" Kyle asked.

"Yes, you can have the whole pack."

Kyle looked at the gum sadly. "I'll give Theresa the rest when we find her."

I shut the limo door. The keys were still in the ignition, so I started the motor. "I need you to watch out the window and look for your sister."

"Which way do you think she went?"

"I don't know, honey. But we're going to go really fast, so watch as closely as you can."

I applied the gas and we sped down the road. I slowed down when we went around corners, just in case my daughter was wandering in the middle of the road, but apart from that I floored the gas.

"Try to dial 911 again," I said, handing Kyle the phone. "Is there a signal?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Keep trying."

We raced along the dirt road.

"I'd like a piece of that gum," I told Kyle. He unwrapped a piece and I popped the strawberry square into my mouth. I'd never been much of a gum or candy person, but this tasted absolutely delicious. I even blew a bubble.

Two minutes later, we still couldn't get a cell phone signal.

"Do you think Theresa walked this far?" Kyle asked.

"No, I'm sure she didn't, but I want to find a phone signal so we can call for help. I think we're getting close to the freeway, and we'll definitely be able to get a signal there."

Kyle nodded and pressed redial again.

"It's working!" he shouted. "It's working!"

I grabbed the phone from him and pressed it tightly to my ear. A ring on the other end. Then a cheerful female voice: "911 emergency."

I applied the brakes, harder than I'd intended. "Oh, thank God, my name is Helen Mayhem and there's been an accident and my family has been badly injured!"

"Ma'am, please give me your location."

I gave her the directions as best I could. I didn't want to tell her about the killers, for fear that she wouldn't believe my story, but at the same time I couldn't risk letting the police come in unprepared.

I told her everything.

She seemed to believe me.

I turned the limousine around (not an easy process) and then sped back the way we came. I lost the signal moments after that. With renewed energy, I drove off to find my family.

***

I FOUND THEM.

I was so astonished at my good fortune that I nearly squealed with delight, and I'm not a squealer. Standing there, right in the middle of the road up ahead, were Andrew and Theresa, locked in a tight hug. I could see he held a knife. Hopefully a bloody knife that had slit the throats of the bastards who attacked us.

"It's them!" I squealed, proving that I am a squealer in the right circumstances. "It's Theresa and Daddy!"

They were alive!

They were safe!

I felt a sudden pang of concern as I realized Roger and Samantha were nowhere around, but I was overjoyed to see my husband and my daughter were both alive.

Then Andrew pushed Theresa away and stuck the knife in her chest.

I immediately knew I hadn't really seen that. Maybe I was so overwhelmed with elation I wasn't seeing straight, or maybe this whole experience had finally driven me to insanity, but I knew for certain I hadn't just seen Andrew stab our daughter.

And I didn't see him laugh as she fell to the ground.

And I didn't see him crouch down over her body and raise the bloody blade.

" Mommy !" Kyle's shriek snapped me out of my state of disbelief and made me realize what I was seeing was completely real.

Better to have gone insane.

I floored the gas pedal and the limousine rocketed forward. Andrew looked up at the car, still holding the knife in the air. I slammed on the brakes right before I reached him.

"Stay in the car!" I wailed at Kyle as I threw open the door and got out. "Andrew! Stop!"

He looked at me, confused. His eyes were wild and unfocused.

Theresa was bleeding badly, gasping for breath, and clawing at her wound.

"You don't scare me," Andrew said.

I walked toward him, slowly, carefully, trying not to set him off. If he chose to plunge the knife into Theresa again, I wouldn't be able to stop him.

"Andrew, please, look at me."

He grinned. "I am looking at you! What, you got problems with those demon eyes of yours? Maybe you should pop 'em out and put in a new pair!" He gestured at Theresa with the knife. "Wanna try hers?"

I spoke slowly, calmly. "Please, Andrew, you don't want to hurt your daughter."

"I don't have a daughter. I'm a freeeeeeee demon slayer!" He let out a joyous whoop.

What the hell had they done to him?

"Mommy…" said Theresa, weakly, reaching her arm out toward me.

"Please, let me take her," I said. "She'll bleed to death."

Andrew ran his index finger across the stab wound and held it up, looking at it closely. "It looks like oil. You demons bleed black oil. That must be why you live in fire."

"She's not a demon. She's your daughter."

"She's not my daughter!" Andrew shouted. "She's a disgusting, rotting creature! And I'm not scared of you!"

But he was. His fear was obvious. Was he really seeing demons?

I stepped forward. "That's right, she is a demon. If you touch her, I'll destroy you."

Andrew snorted. "I'm not scared."

" GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER OR I'LL DRAG YOU INTO THE PITS OF HELL !" I screamed.

Andrew cried out in fear and scrambled away from her. I saw that he had something that looked like a camera attached to his chest.

I strode forward and raised my arms, hoping to become more intimidating to him. " YOU'LL BURN WITH US !"

"No!" Andrew got to his feet. "I'll kill all of you!"

He rushed at me with the knife.

I moved out of the way, but I twisted my foot and fell to the ground.

Theresa's breathing was rapid and frantic.

I got up as quickly as I could, just in time for Andrew to thrust the knife at me. It tore across my side, cutting deep.

I punched Andrew in the face.

He put his hand to his cheek and stumbled away. "Oh, shit, it burns!"

I let out my best approximation of a demonic roar. Under any other circumstances I would have felt completely ridiculous, but now, in the moment, I felt like I truly was a demon.

"I'll eat you alive!"

Andrew lunged at me with the knife but missed.

I heard the car door open behind me.

"Daddy, stop!" Kyle yelled.

"Kyle, get back in the car!"

"Daddy, don't hurt her!"

Andrew swung at me again. The tip of the blade sliced across my chest, but it was just a scratch.

"Kyle, breathe fire!" I shouted. "Breathe fire on him! Burn him! Burn out his eyes!"

Andrew raised his arm to shield his eyes.

I punched him in the stomach. He doubled over and staggered away, groaning. The knife fell out of his hand and he reached down to pick it up.

I rushed for the weapon, and our hands met upon its handle. We struggled for a moment, but it was clear he was going to win. Our gazes locked. As I lost my grip on the knife, I stared into his eyes, trying to see if there was any hint of recognition, anything I could use to bring my husband back to reality.

Nothing. Just pure fear.

I glanced down. It was a camera mounted on his chest. I wrapped my fingers around it and pulled as hard as I could.

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