Shane ed. - A Hacked-Up Holiday Massacre - Halloween Is Going to Be Jealous

Whumpf!

Matt crashed to the ground, his ankle twisting like the ant’s body. Blood poured from his nose and his chest tightened. He tried sucking in a deep breath, but earth clogged his mouth and he choked, coughing up soil slimy with saliva.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.” It hurt to breath, to move, but he kept muttering under his breath. Slowly, he sat up. His ankle had already swollen to the size of a grapefruit and didn’t look like it was slowing. The skin was pulled tight and purple. Next to it was a perfect loop of tree root shooting straight out of the ground that he’d snagged his foot on. The soil was loosened all around and under it. How had he missed that? Using the tree trunk for leverage, Matt pulled himself up. Gently, he tested his ankle. It hurt like a bitch, but he didn’t think it was broken. Wiping his bloody nose on his sleeve, he limped towards the path.

Ten minutes later he found his family sitting in a half circle at the base of a tree. Tucker looked up as he hobbled towards them. His sharp intake of breath made Jenn look up from the yogurt she was feeding Dallas.

“Matt, what happened to you?” She hurried toward him, bending his head back so she could check his nose.

“I tripped. I’m fine.” The blood had congealed into a thick crust over his upper lip, cracking with each word.

Jenn shook her head, like she couldn’t believe her son could be so clumsy. She gripped his elbow, leading him to the picnic, letting out a loud sigh as she helped him sit on the ground.

“Your ankle looks pretty bad. You sure you’re okay?” Tucker asked. He was sitting on a low rock beside Brooklyn, half a peanut butter sandwich gripped in one hand.

“Yeah. It’s just twisted, not broken. I tripped over a stupid root.”

“You’re lucky. What would we have done if you’d broken it?” Jenn wiped her hands on her pants before sitting back down.

“I guess we would have had to call for help. I don’t know, Mom. I didn’t fall on purpose.” He grabbed a bag of chips and a juice pouch out of his mom’s bag, putting his head down to end the conversation. Why did she sound so irritated? If one of the girls had fallen she’d be all over them, kissing them to make the booboo go away.

Out of the corner of his eye, Matt saw Tucker shake his head, then turn towards Brooklyn.

“So, Brookie, why are we out here today?”

“’Cause it’s Earth Day.” She grinned, knowing she’d answered her dad’s question correctly.

“Yes, but what are we doing?”

“Planting our tree, so it can be with its family.” Brooklyn stretched her foot forward, pointing to the sapling with her toe. It toppled over, half of the rich soil falling out of the pot as it rolled down the gentle slope away from her. Tucker reached out his hand and steadied the tree, but didn’t sit it upright. He watched his daughter as she jumped up from her spot beside him and plunged her hand into the backpack filled with goodies. When she sat back down, she had an oatmeal cookie in her hand.

“Right, we’re planting our tree, but why?”

Brooklyn slowly unwrapped her cookie, letting the clear plastic fall to the ground as she took a huge bite. Around a mouthful of cookie and cream filling, she answered: “’Cause it’s Earth Day.”

Leaning his head forward, Matt couldn’t help but think again how stupid this was. If Brooklyn didn’t understand what they were doing, then no way Dallas would. What was the point?

“Look! A bunny!”

Matt looked up to see Brooklyn walking towards a brown rabbit sitting on its back legs in the weeds at the edge of the path. It looked just like the rabbit he’d seen in the parking lot and was just as observant. Both of its ears were pointed forward, honing in on everything the family did. It sat very still, only its little bunny nose twitching.

“Here, bunny. Want a bite of my cookie?” Leaning forward, she bent down, holding out a small piece. The rabbit twitched…and then jumped on her.

Tucker shot up as Brooklyn screamed. The rabbit bit deep into her arm, and she waved it back and forth in the air, trying desperately to shake the beast off. Blood ran down her skin and coated the bunny, clumping its soft fur into a black mass. Tucker started towards her but stopped when he saw more rabbits in the shadows of the foliage. The muscles in his face twitched, pulling his lips away from his teeth.

“Tucker! Help her!” Jenn stood, Dallas pressed against her chest. Tears streamed down both their faces, and Dallas kept screaming, “Brookie, Brookie,” over and over again.

Seeing Tucker wasn’t moving, Matt forced himself to stand. Something popped in his ankle with the sudden movement, and he threw up what little he’d eaten. The acidic smell of juice and chips ran down his face and covered his shirt and hands.

“Get out of the way.” He shoved passed Tucker, reaching out for the rabbit latched onto his sister’s arm. He grabbed her shoulder, trying to turn her toward him so he could get to the animal, but she was so hysterical she must have not realized it was him, screaming even louder and trying to get away. He tightened his grip, yelling her name. Her hair stuck to her face, snot and tears glistening against her pale skin.

Matt grabbed the rabbit, the soft fur at its neck sliding between his fingers, leaving tuffs sticking in the vomit splatter. The rabbit screamed as he wrenched it off Brooklyn. Blood coated its fur, its teeth chomping to grab ahold of her again. He flung it away, the motion like a flag signaling the other rabbits hiding in the undergrowth along the path. They launched themselves at Brooklyn. She’d lain down, cradling her bleeding arm, wailing in pain. The rabbits covered her like a blanket before Matt could reach for her. Her screeches filled the forest.

“Brooklyn!” Matt tried to pull the rabbits away, but they bucked their back legs, scratching long fissures into his forearms. Their teeth locked on her flesh, ripping away chunks of skin and muscle before going back for more. He couldn’t get to his sister.

Desperate, he looked for Tucker and his mom. Anyone to help. Jenn stood frozen. Her eyes were wide, her arms locked as tightly on Dallas as the rabbits were on Brooklyn. She shook her head, denying what she saw, a high-pitched keening whistling between loose lips. Tucker backed down the path. His face was white, his nostrils flaring as he snorted air, and he looked close to hyperventilating. His chin jutted forward, pulling the muscles in his neck tight, making them stand out. Scarlet lips flapped, no sound coming out as he tried to remember how to talk.

“It can’t be. This can’t be.” He stuttered and stumbled over his words and over the path. “Brooklyn. JENN!” Tucker turned to run; a black shadow dashed toward him from the woods.

Matt jerked his head back towards his mom, barely registering that Brooklyn was quiet, only a lulling slurp coming from the furry mass covering her body. Unable to comprehend what he saw, paralysis overcame him.

The tree behind his mom was moving. Not blowing in the wind, but moving. A limb bent downward striking her across the head. Matt watched in horror as she stumbled and Dallas tumbled from her arms, bouncing off a rock and rolling across the dirt path. A loud snap punctuated her screams as her left arm broke.

The forest became a blur of movement. The tree struck Jenn a second time, knocking her off her feet, blood pouring from her scalp. Then it struck again and again, not giving her time to cry out.

It was Tucker who screamed in pain, and when Matt looked, he saw a large buck pinning his stepdad to a tree. Tucker beat at the animal, causing more injury to himself than he inflicted. Red oozed from his arms where again and again he tried to push the deer away, slicing his flesh on its large rack. Finally, the deer backed up. Tucker fell to the ground, moaning and curling in anguish. The buck attacked again, this time with his hooves.