The Cabin in the Woods

If there was any way he’d wish to go…

And then they were out, and it was as if the weight of the world had been lifted from around them. There were no more impacts, and Curt looked back past them as he steered the vehicle far from the collapsing tunnel and up against the wall of the roadside cliff. He left the engine running and pulled on the parking break.

Their gasps mingled, and Holden did not let go of Dana’s neck. Given a choice, he never would again.

“Well… ” Curt said. He got up from his seat and kicked the door open. Bent metal shrieked in protest. Dana followed, and she reached back for Holden’s hand as they all exited to stand beside the battered Rambler.

Rumbles still issued from the tunnel’s mouth, and a pile of debris had spilled out across the road. Dust rose in billowing clouds. Grit rained down around them like hard rain.

“They might be following,” Dana said, glancing around nervously. Holden looked as well. The road was bathed in moonlight, but beneath the trees lurked the gloom that might hide anything.

“We drove really fast,” he said. “Even if they can run they’ll be a mile or two back, easy.”

“Yeah,” she said uncertainly, squeezing his hand. “No!” Curt shouted. “No fucking way! This isn’t happening! It’s right there! He gestured across the ravine at the ground beyond, and freedom. They could even see the road curving out from the tunnel, and a ponderous cloud of dust was making the onward journey that now eluded them.

Holden scanned the cliff face opposite, then walked to the edge on their side. The bottom of the ravine was hidden in darkness. There could be anything down there, but then… there was anything up here, too. There were fucking zombies up here.

“You got any climbing gear?” he asked Curt. “Ropes?”

“Yeah, in my fucking dorm room.”

“We can’t climb this. This is limestone, it’s slippery and it’ll crumble under pressure.” “We can’t go back,” Dana said, standing beside them at the cliff’s edge. “There’s no way across?” “What are we gonna do, jump?” Holden said, closing his eyes, shaking his head. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Dana said. “Not in the mood for a jump anyway.”

“No? Zombies don’t do it for you?”

“Dude,” Curt said quietly.

“What?”

Curt nodded back at the Rambler.

“The dirt bike on the back,” he said. “I’m good.” For a few seconds Holden didn’t really comprehend what he meant. So he was good on a dirt bike, how did that help them if…?

“You’re serious,” Dana said, and then Holden got it. He looked from Curt to the other side of the ravine, then back again.

“You really think you can…?”

Curt shrugged, frowned then nodded. Nodded again, harder. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah I can. Now help me get the thing ready, will you?”

The three of them lifted the bike from the rack, and Curt checked it over to make sure it hadn’t been damaged in the rockfall. All we need now’s a puncture, Holden thought, but the bike had survived in good shape, protected by the bulk of the larger vehicle. Curt sat astride, fired it up and did a couple of gentle circuits around the Rambler, making himself comfortable and spinning the rear wheel a few times.

“Holden, we should stop him,” Dana said. “You think he’ll listen to us?”

“No, but we should try.”

Holden knew she was right. But at the same time he was looking at the jump and trying to judge the distance, the arc the bike would take, and the chances of Curt making it across. And the more he looked, the more he thought it looked good. There was a decent rise on this side just before the drop-off, and the other side was clear of trees and boulders. A good place to land, so long as he stopped before the cliff face over there. And then if the bike made it in one piece he could go for help, be back here within a couple of hours with cops and the army and—

But what if Curt didn’t make it in one piece? What if he made it across but spilled, broke both legs? Would they really have to watch each other die?

“I dunno…” Dana said, shaking her head. And Holden knew that she was thinking the same thing. She hated Curt risking this, but she also knew it might be their only chance at escape. Even now back there in the forest, things would be coming for them.

“Okay,” Curt said, skidding to a stop beside them and eyeing the ravine.

“Curt, are you sure about this?” Dana asked.

“I’ve done bigger jumps than this.”

“You’ve got a smooth run,” Holden said. “A slight rise here, and maybe a five foot differential on the other side, which is good. But you gotta give it everything.” “You know it.”

“Curt…” Dana said. He came down off his adrenaline kick for a moment and looked at her. He’s already lost so much, Holden thought, and he wondered how a guy like Curt could still function having seen his girlfriend’s head kicked around by a zombie. But it was precisely a guy like Curt who would continue to function after such a terror. Functioning—doing something—helped him forget, at least for a time.

Sitting by, doing nothing… that would eat him up.

“When I’m across and gone, you guys stay in the Rambler,” he said. “If they come, just keep driving away from ’em. I’ll get help. If I wipe out I’ll fuckin’ limp for help, but I’m coming back with cops and choppers and large fucking guns and those things are gonna pay.” He glanced aside. “For Jules.”

Dana leaned across and kissed him on the cheek.

Curt gunned the bike.

“Don’t hold back,” Holden said.

“Never do.” Curt grinned at them and ran the bike back along the road a little, standing in the saddle and leaning to curve around to the right. He didn’t wait and rev up, but let go instantly, knowing that even that small bit of momentum could give him the added speed he needed when he hit the drop-off.

Go on, Holden thought, go on, you’re the jock, the good-looking guy every girl wants to go out with and every guy wants to be. It’s only right that you’ll be the one to save us. And as Curt powered past them on the dirt-bike Holden knew definitely, absolutely, that he would succeed. He hit the slightly raised lip of the drop-off with the front wheel high, speed good, and Holden punched the air and yelled, “Yeah!” because the jump could not have been performed any better, it was perfect, when they got back to the world Curt would be able to make a profession as a stunt—

The bike struck something and exploded in mid-air.

“Noooo!” Dana screamed.

The fire and burning fragments spread far and wide as if he’d struck something solid, and beyond the extremes of the flames, sparking blue lines flicked into and out of existence. Straight lines, perfectly vertical and horizontal like a grid.

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck—?

Curt didn’t make a sound, and Holden hoped that he was already dead as he fell. Because he was on fire. His clothing was splashed with fuel, his hair singed away, his face aflame, and he twisted slowly as he plummeted into the ravine like a living flare, lighting the cliff walls all the way down. And all the way, those severe blue lines flickered in and faded out all around him.

“Oh God, oh God…” Dana chanted, and when Holden grabbed her arm her muscles were hard as steel, fists clenches so tight that he felt a dribble of blood issue from beneath her fingers.

“He hit something!” Holden gasped. “There’s nothing! What’d he hit!”

The flames had fallen away now, going down with the remnants of the bike and his dead, still-burning friend. But between them and the other side of the ravine, something stood guard. Curt, he thought, and his face crumpled as he thought of his friend’s ready smile and friendly manner. He took a couple of steps and saw a faint glow somewhere far below. But then he stopped, because he didn’t want to see what gave that glow.

“Puppeteers…” Dana said softly. He’d never heard her sounding like this before. Tender, yes, and shy, and