Demon Town

By Edwin J. Stokirmas

A demonic presence exists in the tiny prairie town of Paradise Flats, a sleepy little community in the mid 1980's that is unaware of the evil that lurks there. When Darien MacIntosh miraculously walks away unscathed from a vehicle mishap, he begins to develop powers that he would have never believed possible. Mac's world is further turned upside down when he encounters an old man who claims to have gifted him these powers and tasks Mac with the responsibilty of finding out what lurks beneath the surface of his seemingly quiet hometown.

Together with the help of his best friends, Mikey and Milo, Mac uncovers more than he bargained for. The further that they dig, the deeper they become entangled in a web of supernatural danger and deceit. Enemies, both human and inhuman soon surround the 3-M's and they find themselves fighting for their lives against the forces hunting them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Edwin J. Stokirmas
• Release date: Dec 5, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215344958

Edwin J. Stokirmas

Edwin J. Stokirmas continues to use his writing as a therapeutic means to help him deal with the demons within. He writes when time allows as he works at his regular job by day and lives in Canada.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

March 31, 1982

The demon made his way along the deserted highway and found himself standing on the outskirts of the little town that he and his companions had passed through barely an hour ago. He had volunteered to make the trek back in the middle of the night when the Chrysler Cordoba that they were travelling in broke down. When it became apparent that the human bodies that he and his fellow demons possessed had no mechanical expertise to fix the vehicle, he decided to go for help. After watching the other three demons huddle around the open hood wiggling cables in hopes of getting the car to start again, he had seen enough and ventured off.

It was about a two-mile hike back into the small town, but the demon didn’t mind. There was a chill in the air, but he had experienced far worse in his lifetime. Winter looked to be on its way out as there were only scattered remnants of snow left to deal with. Much of the prairie landscape that they had passed through on their way to Southby was now free of winter’s icy grip. Only the ditches on either side of Highway 19 held any evidence of winter’s passing as just a few drifts of snow still remained. The demon embraced the peace and tranquility of the night around him. The last three hours of travel that he had spent cramped up in the small confines of the car had proved taxing for him. Those that he had been travelling with were not of his choice and he was glad to be free of their company. They were an unruly lot which was to be expected for demons, but the three that he travelled with had crossed the borders of sanity into the land of deranged long ago. The one who referred to himself as Manson displayed qualities of evil and madness that put him on a whole new frightening level altogether. It would be highly unlikely that the demons would actually arrive at their destination without Manson killing everyone else in the vehicle first.

The four demons had been instructed to make their way to larger cities like Southby to inflict as much mayhem and carnage on the humans there as they could. The thought of having to spend three more hours travelling with this company of lunatics didn’t appeal to this demon in the least. Manson and the other two were more hell-bent on death and destruction than he was. There were other ways of inflicting misery upon the humans that he would have preferred. He was more enterprising and didn’t look forward to the prospect of cohabitating with the suffocating masses of humans in Southby for any length of time.

It was nearing midnight when the demon entered the town limits. He barely remembered passing through here the first time and he doubted that there would be much chance of finding a mechanic in the sleepy little town at this late hour. There were a few crudely painted signs advertising different businesses in the community, but nothing that pertained to the automotive services that the demon was looking for. It was the larger sandblasted wood sign that greeted him next that gave the demon his eureka moment. On it, the sign read: Welcome to Paradise Flats, a Little Piece of Heaven and a Great Place to Do Business!

A smile spread across his face and the demon envisioned a lightbulb going on above his head. The solution to his dilemma had presented itself. He didn’t believe in fate or destiny, but maybe their vehicle breaking down where it did was a stroke of good luck after all for him. Ideas and possibilities danced to and fro in his mind and he reveled in his good fortune. This was his chance to put his own unique stamp on the demon kind’s mission of human annihilation. The demon wasn’t stepping away from the game, just changing the rules for his benefit. He was still contemplating the potential that Paradise Flats presented him when a vehicle drove up behind him. He turned to see an old van roll to a stop to his immediate left. The passenger window opened and Manson sat there with a maniacal grin on his face while the other two demons merely nodded and turned their attention to the road in front of them.

Some old guy was kind enough to stop and ask us if we needed any help. Manson said.

A drop of blood was visible on his chin.

You have something on your face. the demon replied and made a brushing motion with his hand against his own chin.

Manson wiped the blood away with his coat sleeve and shrugged.

What did you do with the body? 

The old guy’s in the back. We’ll dump him in a bush when we get closer to Southby.

Manson rolled his window back up before he realized that his associate was making no effort to get into the van. Rolling down the window once again, Manson gave him a venomous look.

Are you coming or what?

You three go ahead. I’ll catch up with you in a few days. I have some business here to take care of.

In this shit hole? Really?

Yeah. I’ll get the car fixed and join you in a couple of days. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.

Manson studied him for a moment and then pulled the Cordoba’s keys from his jacket pocket and tossed them out of the van window onto the ground.

I’ve forgotten about you already. Manson said and rolled up his window.

The van lurched forward and made a wide U-turn on the highway so that it was facing the direction from which it had just come. None of the occupants in the van acknowledged the demon standing there as they sped past. He watched the van’s taillights disappear into the distance as the van made its way to Southby.

Good riddance. the demon whispered and turned his attention back to the little town that awaited him. He picked the keys up and started walking again when he noticed an auto dealership up ahead on his right. Prairie Motors. Of course, it was closed right now, but he would stop there in the morning and get his vehicle issue taken care of.

A motel was located next door and the demon decided to see if there were any rooms available. There was nothing grand about the Prairie Motor Inn, but it was good enough for what the demon required for the time being. A sense of relief washed through him now that he had parted with the three psychopaths that he’d been travelling with. In his mind a plan was already coming together with what to do with the opportunities that lay ahead for him in Paradise Flats.

He entered the motel lobby and from the open door to his left music blared from a jukebox machine. The demon turned his attention to the bar in the next room and took in the drunken debauchery taking place there. In his human form he looked the same as them, but he felt that he might have been able to walk through them in his demon form and they probably wouldn’t have even batted an eyelash judging by how inebriated most of them were.

The demon smiled once more. Taking advantage of the humans and their weaknesses would prove to be most beneficial for him. He would start small, of course and bring in some associates that he could work with, but Paradise Flats was going to be quite lucrative. Walking over to the lobby’s desk, he rang the bell on the counter. From around the corner an older lady with thick glasses appeared. She looked like she would rather be anywhere else but here.

Can I help you? she asked.

I’m wondering if you would have any rooms available?

The old lady eyed him up and down. Just passing through?

My car broke down a couple of miles out of town. I’m hoping that the dealership next door will be able to fix it for me in the morning.

That’s too bad. the old woman replied. I have a few rooms available. You’ll just be staying for the night, then?

The demon shook his head. Paradise Flats looks like it has plenty to offer from what I’ve seen so far. I think that I may just have to stay on for a while and unleash a little hell in Paradise.

That sounds nice. the old woman replied as she absentmindedly thumbed through a Rolodex. Single rooms are $55 a night and doubles are $65 a night. How will you be paying?

CHAPTER ONE

October 12, 1984

Darien MacIntosh probably shouldn’t have been driving and he knew it. He wasn’t wasted by any means, but he knew that he was over the legal limit to be behind the wheel. Still, he figured that if he stuck to the back roads, he could avoid any police and be home in bed within ten minutes. His family lived six miles out of Paradise Flats and Darien always joked that he could make the short drive home in his sleep if he had to. He didn’t have that much to drink at the river party or at Quincy’s earlier, but he had been working long days for the past month and it was almost 3:00 in the morning when he started his short trek home and fatigue was starting to set in. Darien at the time was working for a local construction company in town and they had been extremely busy trying to finish up a couple of different projects before the fall weather turned against them. He wasn’t particularly fond of the work, but he needed to put his time in so he could collect his pogey for the winter months ahead. Darien wasn’t exactly the ambitious type if the truth be known.

Now out of high school for over two years, Darien had no immediate plans for the future. He was content working only as hard as he had to in order to be eligible to draw unemployment insurance when the time was right and he had accumulated enough hours to do so. That time was almost upon him as once these two remaining projects were finished, A-1 Construction would lay him off and Darien would be able to hibernate for the winter. Of course, he would claim to be looking for more work, but unfortunately, he just wouldn’t be qualified for the particular job that he was after. It was the perfect life as far as Darien MacIntosh was concerned. Sleep in every day, find out where the next party was, get wasted and repeat the whole process over again the next day. Luckily for Darien on this particular day the construction crew had been given a rare weekend off and they wanted to take advantage of it.

Everyone was to meet after work that evening at Quincy’s, which was the favorite drinking establishment for the younger crowd in Paradise Flats. Quincy’s used to be a family restaurant but had been converted into a bar a few years back and soon became the place to be if you were looking for a night out on the town. Located on Highway 19, Quincy’s attracted a lot of traffic coming and going out of Paradise Flats. The bar catered to the rock crowd as the music was provided by a DJ or sometimes a live rock band. A dance floor was situated in the center of the building with seating halfway around it and a bar and small stage filling out the rest of the place.

Darien arrived at Quincy’s after 9:00 once he had finished eating and cleaning up. It didn’t take him long to get ready as appearances didn’t mean much to him. He never ran a comb through his shaggy, shoulder length brown hair and it seemed like he always had a permanent five o’clock shadow. He was of average height and weight and was most comfortable in a pair of old blue jeans and a T-shirt. It may have been 1984 to the rest of the world, but Darien wasn’t one to keep up with the latest fashions. His casual laid back style of clothing reflected his attitude in life. He wasn’t concerned with styles or trends and was rather content with his meagre possessions; one of which was a rusty 1972 Ford ½ ton truck.

There were only a few vehicles in the parking lot when he arrived at the bar. It was still early, but the place would be crowded within a couple of hours. It was Friday night in Paradise Flats and this was where the party started. The bar was dimly lit when Darien entered and as he peered through the gentle haze of cigarette smoke, he wondered if he was the first one of his crew to arrive.

Mac! Over here! Mike Stevens and Miles Campbell sat in a corner booth and had just arrived ten minutes earlier. It’s pretty quiet so far, but Milo figures everyone should be here in a half hour or so. Mike barked over the blaring music in his gruff voice.

He and Darien had been friends since elementary school and the two of them were seldom seen without the other one close by. Mike or Mikey as he was known to everybody in town was the one who had given Darien his Mac nickname and vice versa. Mikey stood almost half a foot taller than most people and was easy to pick out in a crowd. His size and athletic ability allowed him to excel when he played football and basketball in high school. It was his eating habits, however, that came into question the most as he didn’t just eat food, he attacked it. It was a running joke around town about what someone the size of Mikey eats every day.

Whatever he wants. Darien would reply. Others would kid Mikey that with a voice as gruff as his, he must eat gravel for breakfast. He was not hard to miss. If you didn’t see him towering over everybody first, you would hear Mikey from a ways away.

Miles Campbell or Milo as he was more often referred to was just the opposite of Mikey. A skinny build didn’t help his chances in any athletic activities and being asthmatic worked against him, as well. He was gangly and awkward, but what he lacked in athletic ability he made up for in intelligence and naivety. A solid 90’s student in high school, Milo lacked social charisma and movie star good looks, but he was unaware of these shortcomings. While Mac and Mikey could care less about the clothes that they wore, Milo kept up on the social trends and fashion scene. He was always dressed in the latest styles, no matter how outrageous they were. The Boy George look on that one fateful day a few years back was too much for Mikey, though and he refused to let Milo get in his truck until he changed into something else. This was the 1980’s and everything was big and loud, but a line had to be drawn in the sand somewhere.

Tonight, Milo was decked out like a Billy Idol wannabe with the spiked hair and leather jacket. Next week he might try to capture Don Johnson’s Miami Vice style. Regardless of the look, Milo was a nerd who just didn’t realize it yet. Mac and Mikey accepted him for who he was because deep down they weren’t much different than him. Mac could tell you the secret identity of every superhero in the comic books and had seen the three Star Wars movies a combined twelve times. Still, he and Mikey had to give Milo a hard time about his clothes just because.

Whoa Milo, how much hair gel did it take for the hedgehog look? Mac asked as he held his hand above his friend’s head.

Hey! Careful, man! Milo replied, jerking his head away. You might mess up the ‘do!

Mac sat down and joined his two friends in the corner booth. They rehashed the previous week’s events and discussed their plans for the weekend.

I heard that there’s going to be a party out at the river later. Mikey noted as he took a drink from his Budweiser.

Mac looked around for a waitress when Lisa Thomas walked up with her tray.

You boys ready for another one? She was two years older than the three of them and had been working at Quincy’s for as long as they had been drinking there. Lisa was classic 80’s. Her long blond hair had that big, out of control tousled look that was held together with copious amounts of hair spray. Her blue eyes were showcased by black eyeliner and purple eye shadow. The Def Leppard Pyromania Tour t-shirt and the acid washed jeans completed the ensemble.

Yup, Buds all around.

Lisa smiled and made her way to the next table.

Man, the things that I would do to her... Milo began.

Easy there, stud. Mikey cut him off.

What, you don’t think I got a shot? Don’t you ever notice the way that she flirts with me?

She’s working for tips, Milo. She flirts with everyone.

You don’t know shit, Mikey! Watch when she comes back. The subliminal messages that she’s sending me with her eyes is basically begging me to do her right here, right now!"

Mac and Mikey were both still laughing when Lisa returned with their drinks. They bit their lips and watched the interaction between Milo and Lisa.

That’s $4.50. she said as she placed the beer down on the table.

I got it. Milo said as he held up a five dollar bill and did his best to get Lisa’s attention. Keep the change, Lis.

Thanks Niles. she replied and walked away.

Mac and Mikey started busting a gut again.

Oh, she totally wants you...Niles! Mikey burst out between his gasps for air. Tears were rolling down his cheek.

Fuck you guys! Milo mumbled as he stood up and started to walk away. At least I can talk to her.

Milo’s verbal dagger hit its mark and the laughter subsided. He was right. Milo may have oozed nerd de toilette, but he was always chatting up the ladies, even if he did get shot down all the time. Mikey, for all of his athletic ability was painfully shy and developed a slight stutter when he tried to talk to any females. At times it got so bad that he found it easier if he just said nothing at all. Of course, some people took this the wrong way and figured that he was a snob or just high on himself. Fortunately for Mikey, he discovered alcohol when he was fourteen and it helped ease his fear.

Mac, on the other hand, had his sights set on Lisa Thomas. She intrigued him, but she also scared the hell out of him. He would watch her throughout the evening, but never had the courage to approach her unless it was to order a drink. Lisa was way out of his league and besides that, she was dating Kyle Johnson. He was a pretty boy with the perfect surfer hair who worked in the oilfield making big bucks and drove around in a new jacked up four by four half ton truck. Besides Lisa being older than Mac, she was a total rocket and barely knew that he existed. For those reasons Mac kept his feelings to himself and never even told Mikey or Milo how he felt about her.

It was another typical Friday night for the 3M’s, as they liked to call themselves. Milo would storm off for an hour or so and play Pac-Man or 1942 and then return as if nothing had happened. Mac and Mikey would play pool or sometimes darts and socialize with the other bar patrons. By midnight Quincy’s was packed to the brim and the dance floor was a mass of gyrating bodies getting down to the latest songs as a cigarette induced smog lingered in the air. Most of the crowd was well on their way to getting ‘thundered’ and under normal circumstances Mac would have joined them and let loose, but it was his turn to drive tonight. It was the 3M’s version of designated driver, as each of them took turns chauffeuring the other two around to the various hot spots. It was his turn to be the responsible one and make sure everyone got home safely. Mac had only three beers to drink so far tonight, but he still had a mild buzz going and was rather enjoying himself.

It sounds like most people are going out to the river in about an hour. Mikey bellowed over the pounding music.

Okay. Sounds good. Let’s go for a tour.

The two of them got up and made their way through the maze of people. Mac and Mikey would go on their tours four or five times a night when they were in Quincy’s. It was their way of finding out who was there each night and usually where the party was afterwards. There was always an interesting mix of people that came out of the woodwork and congregated at Quincy’s. This included the jocks from the various sports teams, the druggies, the metal heads, the rig pigs and sometimes the odd cowboy if nothing much was happening at the Watering Hole, the country bar in town. This mixture of personalities was good for the occasional scrap after too much alcohol had entered the equation. Mac and Mikey knew most people from each of the different crowds and did their best to get along with everyone and for the most part everyone wanted to stay on Mikey’s good side. Not that the two of them ever looked for trouble because they were always too busy looking for a good time.

As they made their way through the crowd, the mood in the bar was quite jovial. They high fived their way around and celebrated another start to the weekend. Everyone was in a good mood tonight. The only incident that they noticed was Sarah Mills, a grade twelve student who had too much to drink and was already feeling the effects. Mascara ran down her face as two of her friends hurried her to the lady's bathroom.

Look out, she’s gonna blow! Someone in the crowd hollered. A chorus of laughter followed.

By the time Mac and Mikey had finished their latest tour and returned to their corner booth it was almost one o’clock. A few of the guys from their work crew were getting up and preparing to leave.

Hey, you pussies aren’t going already, are you? Mac asked as he put his arms around Tom Malone’s and Darryl Rae’s shoulders.

Yup, I have to help my brother drywall his garage in the morning. Tom replied.

Mac turned his head toward Darryl and gave him a questioning look.

The old lady’s got a list of shit that she wants done before winter hits. Darryl answered with a pained look on his face in preparation for the verbal assault that was to follow.

Is that a whip I hear, boys? Mac laughed.

Whuck-chee! Mikey exclaimed as he made a whipping motion with his hand.

Yeah, yeah! Bite me, you fucking dickwads. Darryl muttered and shook his head. See you homo’s at work on Monday.

Mac laughed and high fived his two fellow employees. The good-natured ribbing was just part of the camaraderie that the work crew enjoyed. Tom and Darryl were both five years older than Mac and Mikey and had small families already. They had completed their carpentry courses a few years back and had worked for A-1 Construction since they graduated from high school. For all the carving that they would take tonight, they would gladly dish it back to Mac and Mikey on Monday morning. Once the two of them had left, Mac spotted Milo out on the dance floor.

Check out Flashdance! he said and nodded in the direction of the dance floor. Milo was doing his best to impress some of the girls on the crowded floor. His gangly arms and legs were flying all over the place and it was kind of like watching Mick Jagger if he were to have an epileptic seizure while he was performing.

I’ll grab some off sales if you want to get going. Mikey said as he shielded his eyes from the dance floor with his hand.

Yeah, we better get going before there’s too much carnage out there. Milo’s a lethal weapon tonight!

As Mikey sauntered off, Mac tried in vain to get Milo’s attention to let him know that it was time to go. After two failed attempts, he decided that it would be best to let ‘Rock of Ages’ by Def Leppard finish before dragging Milo off the dance floor. He scanned the bar once more and found Lisa Thomas still making the rounds and taking last call orders. Mac noticed that her boyfriend Kyle had arrived and was sitting at a table with a couple of his oilfield buddies and though Mac had nothing against the guy, he wasn’t sure why he disliked him so much. Maybe it had to do with the fancy clothes that he wore that went along with the perfect hair and teeth. Maybe it was because the guy was built like a freakin’ bodybuilder. Perhaps it was the hundred-dollar bills that he pulled out to pay for their drinks. Or maybe it was the fact that he had his hand on Lisa’s ass right now. Yeah, that was it.

Ready to go? Mikey asked as he walked up behind him.

Yup, let’s get the hell out of here. Mac replied. Milo, let’s go!

Milo heard his name this time over the pounding of the music and turned to see Mac skulking off towards the exit. He turned his attention back to Mikey and raised his hands in question. Mikey shrugged and started to make his way to the exit, as well. By the time Milo had collected his coat and made his way out to the parking lot, Mac had his truck pulled up to the front of the bar.

What’s the rush? Milo asked as he piled in.

Mac grumbled something and shifted into drive. Milo glanced at Mikey and raised an eyebrow to which Mikey shook his head and focused his attention on the road in front of them.

I guess the cops are all over the place tonight. You okay to drive?

Yeah. Mac replied. I only had three beers back there.

The journey out to Moose River was quiet and uneventful other than Milo rifling through Mac’s cassette tapes trying to find a song that he liked. They didn’t encounter any police on the fifteen-minute drive west out of Paradise Flats to an old, abandoned campground that served as the site for the river party.  A large, cracked cement pad that once had a cook shack sit on it and an old metal gate were the only remnants of the former Moose River Campsite. Perhaps at one time it may have been a popular getaway destination, but not anymore. Moose River was barely twenty feet across and the slow-moving water was hardly pristine, but rather muddy instead. However, it was now the perfect party place in the summertime as it was relatively out of the way. There were no farms nearby for almost two miles and for the most part nobody was bothered by the partying. The police knew that it was a popular place for the party crowd and kept a close eye on it during the weekends.

The old campsite was about three miles off the main highway down a gravel road. As the trio pulled up to the old bridge that was about a quarter of a mile from the campsite, they could see a long row of parked vehicles lined up on both sides of the gravel road.

Wow, good crowd tonight. Milo said.

Well, it’ll probably be the last weekend of the year for any parties out here. Mikey said as the truck came to a stop. Winter’s not far off according to my grampa’s arthritis.

As they climbed out of Mac’s half-ton, they could hear Panama being played off in the distance and could make out a fire burning through the bushes ahead. The air was cool and a slight breeze scattered fallen leaves around them. Mikey was right about winter not being far off Mac thought to himself. They made the walk down the gravel road in relative darkness with only the light from passing vehicles briefly lighting up the path ahead. More traffic was arriving by the minute and Mac figured that there had to be about a hundred vehicles out here. Word had spread on Main Street that the party was at the river tonight. That was how it worked in a small prairie town in the 80’s. Those with vehicles cut laps up and down Main Street until everybody figured out where the party was and relayed the message forward. There were no cell phones, Facebook or Twitter back then so even though cutting laps wasn’t as technologically advanced for communicating, it got the job done.

As the 3M’s reached the entrance to the old campsite they could make out the party site much better. A large bonfire burned ten feet into the air as fallen trees were dragged out and piled up making the bulk of the fire, but some 2 x 4’s and an old sign were also evident in the blaze. A chevy short box truck was parked precariously close to the fire with both the driver’s and passenger’s doors open and the stereo now cranking out AC/DC’s Back in Black. The crowd was even more diverse than the one at Quincy’s as most of the patrons from there had made their way out here, but there were also plenty of high school kids and people from neighboring communities. Many of the partygoers were huddled around the raging fire as the evening temperature continued to drop. It was like watching a human rotisserie as people were constantly spinning around to keep their faces from melting and their asses from freezing off.

As the trio made their way through the mass of bodies, it became apparent that certain crowds had formed. There were way too many teeny boppers who were already wasted as they laughed over nothing and fell over one another. The jocks from the football team and their girlfriends made up another group. There were also the dopers all huddled together smoking a joint and passing it around.

Hey, you guys want to try some? one of them asked as the 3M’s walked by. It’s some good shit!

Thanks. Mikey replied. Maybe in a bit. We just have to find someone first.

Hey, no problem, man! We got plenty more weed to go around!

They waited until they were out of earshot and started laughing. They stopped for a moment, took a swig of their beers and started laughing again.

Holy shit! Was that Cheech or Chong? Milo managed to say before he spewed out most of what he had just drank. The 3M’s preferred beer over weed any day.

They continued walking around the perimeter of the fire and through the maze of bodies. It was difficult to tell who was who from the shadows cast by the fire.

Hey, I’ll catch up with you guys in a bit. Mac said as he grabbed another beer from the case. I gotta take a leak.

He walked away from the fire’s glow and the pounding music and slipped into the dark and relative silence of the night. He let his eyes adjust to the blackness and slowly made his way through the wooded terrain. Once he had relieved himself, Mac reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the can of Budweiser and cracked it open. He took a drink, surveyed the landscape around him, and found that he was in no hurry to return to the party. Still upset that Kyle Johnson was dating Lisa, Mac sulked to himself and felt a slight weariness settle over him as he realized how tired he was. They had been working plenty of early mornings and late evenings over the past month and maybe it was catching up with him.

Just as he was about to head back to the party, Mac heard a couple making their way through the brush ten feet to his right. Mac remained motionless as he realized that they didn’t know that he was there. They were having a lover’s squabble from what he could hear of their conversation. She thought that he was spending too much time drinking with his friends and he couldn’t understand why she was so upset with him just wanting to have a good time with the guys. They were both from the nearby little community of Springston and though Mac had seen them both before, he couldn’t recall their names at the moment. Before he knew it, they were making up and making out. It was then that Mac recalled that in the slasher movies like Friday the 13th that this was the time where Jason Vorhees would come out of nowhere wearing that old goalie mask to claim two more unsuspecting victims. Uncertain whether to move or not, Mac stood still a moment longer. It was the girl who sensed his presence when she came up for air from their passionate lip lock. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Mac standing there in the darkness. Startled, she jumped and pulled her boyfriend between Mac and herself.

There’s someone behind you. she whispered.

It was the boyfriend’s turn to jump. Holy Shit! he yelled as he tried to push his girlfriend away from Mac. What are you doing, man? You scared the shit out of us!

Mac smiled to himself but said nothing. He was enjoying this. The couple looked at one another and slowly started backing away. The boyfriend kept his eyes on Mac while the girlfriend focused on what lay behind them. Mac chuckled and thought that if he were to take two or three quick steps toward the couple that they would quite literally shit their pants. Instead, he remained motionless.

What’s your problem, freak? the boyfriend asked as he became more confident with each step that he took away from Mac. Are you fucked up on drugs or something?

The boyfriend stopped for a moment to show Mac that he wasn’t afraid of him. Mac, for his part, was starting to get restless from standing still for so long.

Che-che-che-che...chuh-chuh-chuh-chu....ah-ah-ah-ah. he said in a loud whisper as he mimicked the creepy music from Friday the 13th.

Fuck you! the boyfriend replied and then made a hasty retreat back to the fire and the crowd. The girlfriend held her ground for a moment, but when she realized that her boyfriend had abandoned her, she hightailed it out of there, as well.

Mac took another swig of his beer and reveled in how much he had scared the couple. He stood there grinning to himself and then stopped to look around and make sure that no one had snuck up behind him. He suddenly felt uneasy standing there alone in the darkness and decided that it was time to rejoin the party.

It took him a few minutes to track down Mikey and Milo. They had managed to nudge their way closer to the fire as it was becoming chillier on this autumn night. A truck pulled into the party site and backed up close to the fire and two guys jumped out and opened the tailgate revealing the shattered remnants of a picnic table. Climbing into the back of the truck, they picked up the broken pieces of wood and held them high over their head like some prized kill. They screamed in victory and the crowd joined them in unison as they threw the wood into the fire. Mac and Mikey noticed that it was treated lumber and within a minute thick black smoke started to swirl from the blaze. Those closest to the fire started to cough and choke, while the rest of the crowd began to back away. It wasn’t long before the chill of the night enveloped them all.

This is brutal. Mac coughed. Do you guys want to get out of here?

Yeah. Milo grumbled. There’s too many friggin’ kids here anyway.

Mikey nodded in agreement and the three of them made their way back to Mac’s truck.

Well, that was a write off. Mac muttered as he climbed into his old Ford. Do you guys want to see if there’s anything else going on back in town?

You know what? Mikey answered. I’m bushed. I think that I might just get you to drop me off at home, Mac.

Yeah, me too. Milo chimed in as he stifled a yawn. The trip back to Paradise Flats was as quiet as it was on the way out to the river. Little was said between the three friends and good fortune smiled upon them once again as there were no cops out and about, which comforted Mac as he was pretty sure that he would blow over now if the police stopped him. He obeyed the speed limit and did his best not to draw any attention to his driving. Milo was sound asleep when Mac pulled in front of his parent’s house.

Hey, Sleeping Beauty. It’s time to get up for school. Mikey said as he elbowed Milo in the ribs. It took a moment for Milo to clear the cobwebs and register where he was.

Give me a shout tomorrow. he mumbled and got out of the truck and made his way to his house. Five minutes later, Mac was dropping Mikey off at his parent’s place across town.

Do you want to crash here for tonight? Mikey asked as he stepped out of the truck.

Naw. Thanks, I’m good. Mac replied. I’ve hardly drank anything all night.

Suit yourself. My folks won’t mind.

No, I’m good. Another ten minutes and I’ll be home in my own bed.

Okay. I’ll give you a call tomorrow sometime.

With the exception of one other vehicle, the streets of Paradise Flats were deserted. Still, Mac didn’t breathe easy until he was a mile past the town limits. The gravel road was empty of all traffic, but Mac still obeyed the speed limit and checked his rearview mirror every so often. Once he was convinced that he wouldn’t run in to any police, Mac started to relax, but soon felt his eyelids start to grow heavy. ‘Five more minutes.’ he thought to himself.

Before he knew it, he was nodding off and swerving towards the ditch. He awoke with a start and corrected the truck’s path. He rubbed his eyes and cracked open the driver’s window hoping that the cool air rushing in would wake him up. Van Halen’s ‘Hot for teacher’ was playing on his cassette player and Mac cranked it up.

As he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, he started to doze off once more. This time when Mac woke up, he had driven completely off the road and into the ditch on his passenger side. A small bump brought Mac out of his brief slumber and he was greeted by tall grass whipping by his truck as the headlights cut through the darkness of the ditch.

If he had his wits about him, Mac could have just rolled to a stop in the ditch as the embankment wasn’t that steep. Instead, he panicked and cranked the steering wheel hard to his left. The truck lurched back onto the gravel road and everything appeared to move in slow motion as it skidded across the road sideways. The last thing Mac would recall as the truck flew into the opposite ditch was the sound of tires scraping across gravel and then fading to nothing as the truck went airborne.

When Mac awoke, the truck was lying on its roof and he was sprawled across its interior on the passenger side amidst scattered cassettes and their plastic cases. Seatbelts weren’t mandatory and Mac thanked his lucky stars that he wasn’t sent flying through the windshield. The engine was still running or at least sputtering. He did a quick check of his head and body with his hands and there was no blood or broken bones that he could tell of in the darkness. He reached over and turned the ignition off. Mac panicked for a moment when he remembered how vehicles in the movies always exploded when they ended up on the roof. He pulled himself over to the driver’s door and tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. He imagined gas leaking from the fuel tank and slowly making its way to the hot engine. Swinging his feet around, Mac started to kick the driver’s door window as hard as he could. After several unsuccessful attempts to break the window, it dawned on him that perhaps he could still roll the window down or in this situation up. Relief spread through him as he turned the window crank and the window moved enough to allow him to escape the fiery demise that his imagination had concocted.

As he was about to pull himself through, he noticed a light outside. Someone with a flashlight had come across the wreckage and Mac stuck his head through the open window and peered out. The light was so bright that Mac couldn’t make out anything around the truck or even the person holding it.

Help me. Mac started. I rolled my truck.

‘No shit, Sherlock.’ Mac thought to himself. ‘I’ll bet that they never figured that one out.’

A hand then