James Moore - The Haunted Forest Tour

Dover’s Point did not die without a fight, but it most definitely died.

Pestilence was not happy.

He had picked the right human host. Ensured that none of the denizens of the forest would harm the host or allow him to come to harm. Watched him board the vehicle. The host was nervous, anxious, even terrified, but that was understandable. It did not matter. The host had no task to complete except to wait.

But as loath as he was to admit it, Pestilence’s power was not infinite… yet. In fact, it was quite weak. He could send a small piece of himself out as what Lee Burgundy called a Proof Demon ( how adorable ) but he could not watch everything that happened within the forest.

The demon had grown cocky. Amused himself with childish games of torture and temptation. But that was what it was all about. He was weary of drawing blood and screams from those in his own realm of existence. His spell offered the potential for an entire world, a much larger world, filled with playthings to torment.

But the host was not supposed to leave the forest.

How could he have predicted that a human would interfere? Or that the host would hesitate to kill in order to preserve the integrity of the spell?

If the host had simply shot the one called Edward Turner when he had a chance, Pestilence would be relaxing in a boiling pool of blood right now, gazing upon the mangled bodies that hung above him like a baby’s mobile.

All was not lost. He could persuade the host to return. When he did, Pestilence would complete the spell, and the trees would rise from the earth as one, consuming this entire realm.

If not… well, the sacrifices were enough. His dimension would still completely overtake this one.

It would just take longer.

Tina lay on her back and gazed into the glowing red eyes of the hellhound above her. This could be it. Sweet, merciful death. An end to the heartache and pain.

Or not.

She wasn’t going to die in this forest. It could take Brad from her, transform him into some homicidal mold-man, but it wasn’t going to get her . She might not get out in one piece, and tomorrow morning she might decide that a world without Brad was not worth living in, but for right now, she was getting out of this forest alive. That was all there was to it.

Now she simply had to prevent the hellhound from breathing fire on her head.

The hellhound raked her with its claws, but she barely felt it. She wasn’t even scared… much. She was angry. Pissed . Tina Landry was too close to rescue to let some devil dog end her life. She clenched her fists, extended her thumbs, and thrust them up at the hellhound’s eyes.

Back during her tree-climbing adventure, she’d blinded the panther that chased after Christopher. That was with a branch. This was a little more up-close and personal. Her right thumb missed the target, smacking against the side of the hellhound’s muzzle, but her left thumb punctured the orb.

Thick fluid that felt like boiling grease spilled out onto her hand, making her flesh sizzle. She did feel this particular pain, but it didn’t stop her from slamming her right thumb into the hellhound’s other eye. This time the eyeball splattered onto her face and neck. She immediately wiped the burning goo off her cheek with her untainted fingers, smearing a sizzling path across her skin.

The hellhound yelped like a hurt dog. The yelp was accompanied by a burst of flames that struck Tina in the chest, igniting her shirt and quickly flame-broiling the skin beneath.

In a day that had been filled with pain, this was unquestionably the worst so far.

She could smell her flesh burning. Everything in her mind shut down except for the one piece of advice that had been drilled into her as a little girl.

Stop, drop, and roll.

The stopping and dropping was already taken care of, thanks to the hellhound. She rolled to the left, vaguely aware that the hellhound slashed at her with its huge claws, but not really caring. A small burn, such as accidentally pressing her finger against a hot stove, was bad enough. This was pure agony.

She rolled and rolled. She rolled over something living but took no satisfaction in the loud crunch its body made. When she struck a tree, she rolled back the other way.

The hellhound staggered away from her, fluid still pouring from its punctured eyes. Fire sprayed from its mouth.

Though she didn’t feel any better, Tina’s shirt was no longer on fire. She stood up and kicked the hellhound in the head as hard as she possibly could, trying to break its neck.

It took four kicks before she succeeded.

She was still alive. That’s all that mattered. Her shirt hung in charred scraps, and what was left of the bra beneath seemed to have fused to her skin. She didn’t care. She was alive. She was getting out of this forest.

She ran.

“Why don’t you give me the boy?” Lee asked Barbara.

“You’ll never get out of here with him on your back.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“The hell you will.”

“The monsters are well aware of our presence. And the helicopter isn’t going to be able to get to us from here. So maybe now is a good time to leave behind the people who don’t have much of a shot, huh?”

Barbara looked at him with shock and horror. “I’m not leaving you!”

“Okay. Just throwing that out there to ease my guilt. Grab the boy and let’s go.”

Christopher blinked some blood out of his eye. He could handle the pain; he just wished the dizziness would fade. Part of him wanted to lie against a tree and bleed to death, while another part of him wanted to get onto that helicopter and fly away to a hospital.

The rest of him was determined not to let Pestilence win. He didn’t know how such a feat might be accomplished, but it would kill two birds with one stone: save humanity, and get revenge. His years working at Novellon had taught him the importance of combining goals wherever possible.

Just don’t keel over , he told himself. Lee is a really nice guy, but he’s not going to carry you. You keel over, you’re fish food.

“I think they’re circling us,” Lee said. “The way they did when the tram first stopped.”

Barbara nodded. “I think you’re right.”

Christopher looked around. Glowing eyes on all sides of them. “Guys, I hate to be whiny, but I’m not sure we have any place to go.”

“Let’s get out of here,” said the pilot. “Dragons, remember?”

The reporter ignored him and continued filming the ground below. “You should be brave. Everything you say is being recorded.”

When Eddie proposed that the news crew, which was there to cover the Halloween tour, help him rescue the survivors, the cameraman had shoved his video camera into the reporter’s hands and told him good luck.

“Yeah, well, you can record me saying we should get out of here, or you can record me screaming as the dragon knocks off our propeller. Nobody’s down there.”

“They would’ve come out of the building by now, if they were still in there,” Eddie said. Or at least if they were still alive in there. “ Can we just fly around and search?”

“What would we be able to see down there? Do they have a flare gun?”

“No.”

“Then no, we cannot just fly around and search. I’m done.” The pilot adjusted the controls, and the helicopter began to rise.

“No! No, no, no! I see somebody!” Eddie shouted, pointing at the ground. Somebody came out of the woods next to the building and waved her arms over her head. It looked like the lady with the hurt husband.