David L. Robbins - Hell-O-Ween.pdf - Cień Zagłady (eng) - goku88

HELL-O-WEEN

Chapter One

"Yo, dweeb! Are you ready to go monster hunting?" Seventeen year-old Cory

Fleming knew those words were addressed at him even though the speaker was

behind him. He also knew who it was and knew why the word 'dweeb' had been

stressed to give the insult extra emphasis. So he pushed his glasses higher on

the bridge of his nose, a nervous habit he had formed years ago, before he

reluctantly spun around and said, "Don't call me that, Wes. I don't like it."

Wesley Eagen, seated behind the steering wheel of the brand-new jeep he had

just angled over to the curb, blinked in surprise, then laughed. "Whoa! The

worm turns."

The three other high school seniors in the jeep all smirked at Cory, who

withered inside under their looks of ill-concealed contempt. Across from

Wesley sat Leslie Vanderhorst, daughter of the richest man in Pagosa Springs.

Behind Wes was a fellow star member of the football team, Jay Thorpe, and next

to Jay sat Stacy Curvin, the vivacious blonde who was a shoo-in to be

Homecoming Queen that year. "Hello, Cory said, then added the thought

upper-most on his mind. "Where's Ann?" "Where do you think?" Wesley retorted

and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "She's riding with Scott."

Cory shifted as a second jeep braked behind the first. He saw Scott Miklin

driving and frowned ever so

David Robbins slightly. This is stupid, stupid, stu id! he told himself, He

had no business going out to thp

e cave with guys and girls who wouldn't give him the time of day in school

except to knock on him when the mood struck them. Then his gaze fell on the

brunette beside Scott, and he forgot all of his worries as her rosy mouth

curled in a genuinely friendly smile. "Hi, Cory. Glad you could make it," Ann

Weatherby said. "Wouldn't miss it for the world," Cory lied. The only reason

he had accepted Scott's invitation was because of Ann. If she wasn't going he

would have told Scott to get screwed-tactfully, of course. "Hello, Cory,"

chimed in the bleached blonde seated behind Scott. Terri Sheehan was Ann's

best friend. Where Ann went, Terri went. What Ann did, Terri did. They had

been inseparable since childhood. "Terri," Cory said, stepping over to their

jeep, a brown model almost as new as Wesley's red one. He simply nodded at

Scott. "How's it hanging, brother?" Scott Miklin asked in his marked New

England accent. Born and raised in Massachusetts, he had moved with his family

to Colorado a year and a half ago. In that time he had become one of the most

popular guys at Pagosa Springs Senior High. At least once a month he held

parties at his house that were the talk of the school. "You all set?" "Yeah,"

Cory replied. "But are you sure I shouldn't bring some food and a flashlight?"

Scott nodded at a green backpack resting on the console between his seat and

Ann's. "We have everything we'll need. Hop in and we'll get this show on the

road." . Although Cory would much rather have sat next to Ann, he climbed in

the back with Terri Sheehan and promptly buckled his seat belt. "Good idea,"

Scott said, grinning. "We wouldn't want you to fall out. Some of the back

country roads are

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rough." He faced front and honked his hom. "Lead the way, Wes!"

Wesley Eagen gave the thumbs-up sign, checked the traffic flow on U.S. Highway

160 and accelerated. "Here we go, ladies and germs," Scott said, stomping on

the gas pedal and pulling out so quickly that his passengers were slammed

against the backrests of their seats. "Scott, please," Ann said in reproach.

"Oh, sorry," Milkin responded, his blue eyes twinkling, giving her a grin that

revealed all of his perfect white teeth. He reached out to stroke her neck.

"Didn't mean to rattle your bones, babe. I'll be careful from here on out."

Cory averted his gaze, unable to bear the sight of Scott touching her.

He absently stared up at the Pizza House situated on a low hill to the

north of the highway, regretting the fact he hadn t gone there after school

instead of agreeing to meet Scott's crowd for this insane trip to the cave.

For someone who got all A's, sometimes he displayed all the intelligence of a

lobotomized baboon. "So tell me, Cory, " Scott said, "ever been to this

Cavern del-whatever before?" "It's called La Cavema del Diablo," Cory said.

"Got its name from the Spanish conquistadors who came to this region searching

for gold. And yes, I was there once with my dad. We. only went in partway,

though." "Why only part of the way?" Scott asked while concentrating on his

driving. "Afraid the monster would nail you?"

Cory ignored the barb. "No one has ever gone all the way. It's one of the

biggest caverns in the entire country, maybe the whole world. Several groups

of professional spelunkers have gone down in, but even they weren't able to

find the bottom." "What the hell are spelunkers?"

David Robbins

"People who explore caves," Cory explained. "They have a national

organization, and there are several grottos here in Colorado." "What the hell

are grottos?" "Local spelunker clubs. My uncle belongs to one up in Fort

Collins. They spend their weekends traveling to caves all over the state. He

invited me along on a trip to the Groaning Cave once, and I had a great time.

We went in over a thousand feet." "Sounds like fun," Scott said with all the

enthusiasm he might apply to being consumed by a great white shark. "Gosh, you

sure know a lot, Cory," Terri interjected, brushing her short bangs aside.

"I'm glad you came along. I've never been in a cave before, and frankly I'm

not too keen on the idea." "There's nothing to be afraid of," Cory assured

her.

Terri's brown eyes narrowed. "But what about all this monster business? They

say it killed someone a long time ago."

Scott cackled. "Oh, really! Don't tell me you believe that bullshit, Terri?

Only a moron would think there really is a monster down in there." "Of course

I don't," Terri said defensively. "I was just wondering about the legend,

that's all." "Well, I'm sure digithead can tell you," Scott replied. "He knows

everything. That's why everyone calls him a walking encyclopedia."

Cory scowled and looked away so Scott wouldn't notice in the rearview mirror.

The wind stirred his brown hair and felt cool on his face, relieving some of

the burning fury that raged within him. He was such a twink! He should have

known better than to expect to be treated differently after so many years of

being viewed as Pagosa Springs's prime dork. And all because he would rather

read a good book than go see a stupid

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slasher movie or work on a science experiment instead of cruising for foxes or

guzzling six-packs until he dropped. Oh, he had his share of close friends,

mainly brains like him. But the jocks and the in-crowd had always looked down

their collective noses at him and undoubtedly always would.

He sat in morose silence, idly observing the magnificent scenery as the jeeps

passed beyond the town limits of Pagosa Springs and traveled southwest on

160 until they came to a dirt road that branched off to the northwest. Wesley

and Scott turned onto it, and for the next few miles the only buildings they

saw were ranch houses and barns. Soon a sign appeared informing them that they

were about to enter the San Juan National Forest, and a minute later they were

hemmed in on both sides by virgin wilderness, sur-

rounded by a green sea of towering somber pines. Far to the north of them

reared the mysterious San Juan Mountains, one of the least explored regions in

the entire United States. Jagged peaks over two and a half miles high were

capped with sparkling snow, resembling ghostly spires as they shimmered in the

late afternoon sun.

Cory looked to the east and spied the pale full moon already above the

horizon. Good, he thought. The trick or treaters would have the benefit of

bright moonlight when they made their rounds. His younger brother, Bert, who

was only six, would be going out with their mother. He recalled how Bert had

begged him to go along and how he had refused. "Halloween is for kids," he had

said, pretending not to notice the hurt in Bert's innocent eyes. Guilt

assailed him, and he sank back in his seat.

Here he was, the big, mature high school senior on his way to the infamous

Caverna del Diablo to spend Halloween with other seniors who felt it was

beneath

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David Robbins

their dignity to go out trick or treating at their age. Instead, they were

going to spend the evening in a supposedly haunted cave. Now that he viewed

the matter objectively he realized they were being as juvenile as his little

brother, maybe more so. At least his brother had the good sense not to enter a

cave where a number of people had disappeared.

Say, Cory," Ann Weatherby unexpectedly said, twisting in her seat. "What have

you been up to lately?" "Oh, the usual," he responded lamely, deliber-ately

avoiding her gaze. "You haven't been over in a long time," Ann added.

Cory shrugged. "Been busy. You know how it is." "I miss our talks," Ann said.

Scott Miklin glanced over his right shoulder. "That's right, dude. Ann tells

me the two of you have been next-door neighbors since you were munchkins. Grew

up together and all that." "We're good friends," Cory said, although deep down

he longed to be so much more. Ann Weatherby had always held a special place in

his heart, especially after that time when they were ten and had hidden in her

father's shed so they could play doctor undisturbed. Playing doctor had always

been a favorite game of theirs. But after that day they had never played it

again, nor had Ann spoken to him for two years. "And in all that time you

never hit on her?" Scott inquired ever so politely. "Scott!" Ann said. "Sorry,

babe," Scott responded, smiling sweetly. "But your good friend must have rocks

for br-ains. If you were my neighbor I would have latched onto you ages ago."

Cory felt his cheeks tingle and hoped he wasn't blushing. Memories of that day

in the shed overwhelmed him, and he squirmed uncomfortably. Dear God! What had

he been thinking of? And at his age, too! Who

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would ever expect a ten year-old to do such a thing? "You promised that you

wouldn't give Cory a hard time,'nr1T1'V Wlol@@!, Scott. "And I'm keeping my

word," Scott retorted indignantly. He glanced at Cory once more. "Hey, dude,

do you think I'm picking on you?" "Not at all," Cory said, secretly wishing he

could bash Scott's head in with a baseball bat. "See." Scott gloated at Ann.

"I promised you we'd all be on our best behavior and we will be. You'll see.

Your good friend will feel right at home."

Why did Scott keep referring to him that way? Cory wondered. Ann gave him a

reassuring smile, and he smiled back, then made bold to ask, "Whose idea was

this?" "What do you mean?" she rejoined. "Who came up with the idea to ask me

to come along?" Cory clarified, dreading her answer.

I did," Ann confessed. "You don't get out much, and I figured you would like

to have some fun. Scott agreed and invited you. Is there something wrong?"

"No," Cory said, his stomach doing flip-flops. So there it was. But why should

she be concerned about his well-being after all this time? It was true that

they had become friends again two years after the shed incident and he had

spent many a lazy afternoon shooting the breeze with her about everything

under the sun, but they had never been as close as they were before the shed.

And due to her outstanding looks and outgoing nature she had easily fitted

into the most exclusive clique in the school, they had rarely mingled

socially. Now all of a sudden she wanted him to join them on an outing deep

into the mountains. It made no sense.

The dirt road forked, and the two jeeps swung to the left. Immediately the

road narrowed and became rockier. Countless ruts marred the surface, the

result of heavy erosion caused by frequent thunderstorms

David Robbins

during the spring and summer months, and Wesley and Scott had to steer

carefully to avoid becoming hung up or damaging the undercarriages on their

jeeps. From that point onward only four-wheel-drive vehicles could negotiate

the twisting roadway. At that time of year and so late in the day it was

unlikely they would encounter other four-wheelers.

To the west loomed Horse Mountain. South of it, invisible from where they

were, was Chimney Rock. In the summer the area would be crawling with campers

and hikers, but this late in the season only hunters penetrated any distance

into the national- forest, and they seldom if ever ventured into the area near

the cave. Old-timers like Cory's grandfather swore there was little game in

the general vicinity of the Cavema del Diablo although the mountains around it

teemed with mule deer and bears. "Hey, Cory," Scott said, "you didn't tell

your folks, did you?" "No," Cory replied. "I kept it a secret like you

wanted." He wished now he had told his mom and dad. If something should go

wrong and they wound up stranded, it would be nice to know a rescue party

would soon be sent to find them. But Scott had insisted on keeping their jaunt

to themselves, and he'd had a valid reason. The cave was in a remote area, and

although it wasn't hard to find and contained no hazards for those who stayed

in the upper levels, there was always an element of risk involved. It was

unlikely any of their parents would have permitted them to go.

11 Excellent," Scott Said, then added suspiciously, "What did you tell them?"

"That I was going to be at Zack McCoy's until late, working on our joint entry

in the science fair. They know we've been developing a project to demonstrate

how industrial and automobile pollution deranges the global ecosystem and-."

Hell-O-Ween

"Yeah, yeah," Scott interrupted. "Just so they won't come looking for you." He

snickered. "We don't need our parents messing up all our plans. This is

shaping up to be one def Halloween. Besides, we're old enough to decide what

we want to do without having them looking over our shoulders every damn minute

of every day."

Terri opened her mouth to say something but apparently changed her mind and

glumly stared down at her lap. The short black skirt she wore was riding high

on her pudgy thighs so she smoothed it down, then frowned.

Cory looked at Ann. "What did you tell your folks?" "That I was spending the

night at Terri's. Terri told her parents that she was spending the night with

me. With luck they won't suspect a thing."

As the road started to climb the air became cooler. Dense walls of vegetation

partially obstructed the views to the tight and the left. After five minutes

the road slanted to the northwest, skirting Horse Moun@ tain and bearing into

the very heart of the foreboding San Juan Mountains. They came over a rise,

descended a hill and crossed a shallow creek between a pair of deep pools.

"Look at those," Ann commented. "I bet my dad would like to fish here. He's

always looking for new spots." "He'd be wasting his time," Cory said. "This is

Devil Creek. Has hardly any fish in it. Something to do with enhanced acidity

in the water. I once read an article on the imbalance in a regional science

journal. They say this is the only stream in the state that has the problem."

Scott took his eyes off the road long enough to caustically ask, "Is there

anything you don't know?"

Again Cory lapsed into silence. Despite himself, he was intimidated by Scott's

attitude. All those years of

David Robbins

being the brunt of countless jokes about his 10 had taken their emotional

toll. Rather than make an issue of an insult and perhaps spark a fight, he had

learned to keep his mouth shut and weather the slings and barbs of his callous

classmates. He'd been in more than his share of scraps when he was younger,

and he'd learned the hard way that earning a bloody nose or a black eye in the

defense of his dignity wasn't worth it.

The bumpy road wound ever deeper into the San Juans. They continued to climb

steadily, and the temperature continued to gradually drop. Through valleys and

over mountains they went, at times carefully navigating a ribbon of roadway

that seemed glued to the sheer side of a cliff while above them perched

massive boulders capable of crushing their vehicles to bits should a rock

slide accidentally start. "Geez," Terri breathed at one point as they crested

a ridge thousands of feet above a verdant valley floor. "This gives me the

creeps. What if we go over the side?" "Then theyll be scraping us up with

putty knives," Scott said and laughed.

I don't think that's funny," Terri said anxiously. "I'm not very fond of

heights." "Don't worry. We won't go over the edge," Ann assured her and shot

Scott a hard glance.

Cory saw Miklin look at her, grin and blow her a kiss. Peeved, he gazed past

them out the windshield and was alarmed to behold a sharp curve abruptly

appear. With a start he realized the jeep was making str-aight for the brink!

"Look out!" he cried, leaning forward, and listened in dismay to the

screeching of the tires as Scott slammed on the brakes and the wheels locked.

The jeep went into a skid, raising a cloud of dust as it slid closer and

closer to the rim.

Terri screamed. Ann gripped the dashboard with both hands.

Hell-O-Ween

Stark fear rippled down Cory's spine. He saw the edge sweep toward them and

mentally ticked off the distance. Ten feet. Eight feet. Six feet. He threw an

arm out to clutch Ann's shoulder and hold her steady so she wouldn't crash

through the windshield when they went over. Then the jeep slowed dramatically,

gravel spewing out from under its skewing tires, and came to a lurching halt

within inches of eternity. For a minute no one uttered a word as dirt and

small stones cascaded over the brink and rained down on a section of woodland

over 1000 feet below. "Jesus!" Terri Sheehan finally exclaimed, glaring at

Scott. "You nearly got us all killed." "Oh, bull. I had everything under

control," Scott retorted angrily.

Cory exhaled in relief. Ann turned to regard him with a strange expression,

and he became aware that his hand still rested on her shoulder. "Oh, sorry,"

he mumbled, jerking it back. "I thought you might go through the windshield."

"Thank you," Ann said softly. "Hell!" Scott growled. "Let's catch up with the

others before they become worried about us." He spun the steering wheel and

got them back in the middle of the road.

Leaning back, Cory closed his eyes and waited for his racing pulse to return

to normal. His heart thumped heavily. Another second or two and they would all

have been goners. The mishap reminded him that their jaunt into the remote

mountains wasn't to be taken lightly. Up to a dozen or more people lost their

lives from a variety of causes each and every year in Colorado's vast

wilderness. They might become lost while out hunting or hiking and succumb to

hypothermia. They might be skiing out of bounds and be caught in an avalanche.

Or, like Scott, they might fail to pay attention to the serpentine mountain

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highways and pay for their neglect with their mangled bodies.

The close call had a positive effect on Scott. He now devoted his entire

attention to driving and maintained a prudent speed for the next six miles.

Gradually the sun sank toward the horizon. In the valleys the dark shadows

lengthened. The heights were still aglow for awhile, but eventually the crags

and peaks were likewise shrouded in twilight. Wes and Scott flicked on their

jeep headlights.

A thin ring of rosy sunlight crowned the mountains to the west when the two

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