The Late Night Horror Show by Bryan Smith Page A

an all-out run. The collision blasted the breath from her lungs and sent her tumbling backward to the ground. The impact when her body hit the ground was painful enough, but it was made worse by the sharp rock that gouged the small of her back. An edge of the rock cut through the lacy fabric of her camisole top and sliced into her flesh. Blood from the wound stained the ground beneath her as she cried out in agony and rolled onto her side to escape the sensation of the rock digging into her flesh. The movement was too soon after so hard a blow, though, and triggered another jolt of even more intense pain. This time it brought tears to her eyes and she cried out again, louder than before.
    Stupid, she thought. So stupid.
    You have to be quiet.
    He might hear you.
    She didn’t know whether the masked man was still after her. It was possible the stranger who had come to her rescue had subdued him. Or even killed him. The latter didn’t seem likely. The stranger was kind of beefy, but the clear overall strength advantage belonged to the muscular masked man. She recalled how, in the last moment before her dash into the woods, the man’s big hand had clamped hard around the stranger’s throat. No, she had to assume the stranger was dead and that the psycho in the mask was on her trail again. And that meant she had to keep as quiet as possible, even when she felt like screaming from hurting so much.
    So Lashon set her jaw and bit back the next scream as she again struggled to her feet. Once she was upright, that sense of directionless disorientation was worse than ever. But she couldn’t just stand there, so she held out a hand and took a few cautious, exploratory steps straight ahead. The palm of her hand soon touched the rough texture of tree bark. She moved her hand over the bark, enough to discern that it was a very big tree. She was certain it was the one that had knocked her to the ground. So she felt her way around the tree and got moving again, this time at a slower, more cautious pace. She still detected no sounds of pursuit, so it was probably okay to move a bit more deliberately now. She hoped so, anyway.
    After a few more minutes of blind groping and forward motion, a thing that felt nearly like a miracle occurred. The thick canopy of leafy tree branches overhead began to thin out some, letting in a bit of diffused moonlight. The downside to this was that more rain began to patter her head again, but that was okay because at least she could fucking see now. Just a little, it was true, but it was better than nothing.
    As she kept moving, her thoughts returned to her rescuer. She knew nothing about him. Who he was. What his name was. Not a damn thing. And he knew the same nothing about her. She was just a stranger to him as well. And yet he hadn’t hesitated to put himself in harm’s way to help her. It was even possible he had given his own life to save hers. Which was really brave and admirable and all, but it was also kind of fucked up, because if she survived this she would always feel guilt for the sacrifice he had made. Didn’t mean she’d change anything about what had happened, even if she could. She wanted to live, even at the expense of someone else’s life or safety. She didn’t much like what that said about her, but not liking it didn’t make it any less true.
    The trees continued to thin out as she pressed ahead. The rain also tapered off and soon stopped altogether. She glanced upward now and then and was pleased to note that the sky seemed to be clearing. It was warm and humid, now that the rain had passed. But the still-damp camisole top felt plastered to her skin. A change of clothes would be one of the first items on her agenda should she manage to escape this place. She was still hearing no evidence of pursuit. The cautious optimism she had felt before began to return. The feeling intensified significantly when she began to discern noises from somewhere ahead.
    Boisterous