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Fred Walton's April Fools Day (1986) holds a special place in slasher fans' hearts. Even though it hinges more on the comedy side of things, it manages a crisp Agatha Christie-style mystery and feeling of isolation. The novelisation by Jeff Rovin based on Danilo Bach's screenplay firmly tips the scale back into slasher-land as the film originally was before drastic re-editing by a nervous Paramount eager to downplay the horror aspect. It also contains much more plot and character scenes, some which may have simply been added by the author to flesh things out (like a one-night stand explaining why Rob was late to the ferry which tied in with his fly being open), others which are more likely to have existed in the original cut (Nikki sleeping with Skip after the end-of-game party) and the backstories as to why the "clues" left around the house managed to hit so close to home for the characters.
But what you'll find transcribed word for word are the prime extra sequences, like the deaths of Arch & Nan plus the infamous extended ending that would have run the film at least 20 minutes longer. A big thankyou to Dan for his invaluable work in helping transcribe this.
In the film of April Fools Day, jock Arch Cummings (Thomas F. Wilson) recieves his "death" scene by getting caught in a trap and crapping his pants at a snake when the mysterious culprit walks up to him. End of scene. In the novel however, there is a totally different fate in store for Arch. I'm not sure if it was shot, I'd say it wasn't because this only works on paper, not in the film where all the deaths have to be easily explainable to have been pranks.
By late afternoon Arch was miles from the beach. The dunes and Rob’s own calls were well behind him; all he could hear was the wind and the rustling of the horseweed and thistle as it swayed heavbily all around him. Arch used his corroded slat to beat them back as he walked back and forth, covering each square foot of the field. Every few paces he’d stop and peer into the foliage on either side, then call Skip’s name; then he’d take a few steps more, looking all the time for footprints or signs that a body has been dragged through.
When the house was finaly in view Arch paused in a clearing and, laying the slat aside, unwrapped a partially melted chocolate coi he’d filched from a restaurant checkout.
“Hey, shithead! Chickendick! Yeah, you – Skip! You’re missin’ a real treat here.” He took a bite and looked down at the sticky gold foil wrapper. “Comes all the way from Hershey, PA, to our waiting tastebuds.”
Arch listened as he finished the candy. When he was about to move on, he spotted the weeds shuddering, several hundred yards away.
“And what have we here?”
The sound wasn’t like the other false alarms, the field mice or wayward frogs. Something big was on the move.
“Fee, fi, fo, fum, I think I smell a pile o’ scum.”
The sound stopped and Arch waited. Then the foliage moved again, only this time it was accompanied by a deep chugging and a lighter, clicking sound.
“That ain’t no pile o’ scum,” he said warily. He retrieved the slat and wielded it with both hands, like a broadsword.
“Skip?”
The sound continued, metal rubbing against metal. Arch watched the field where the weeds were moving. It appeared that where they bent they didn’t rise again.
“If that’s you, St. John, I’m gonna crack your fat skull!”
The clicking grew louder, the weeds fell closer, and with a sudden lurch a hulking tractor burst into the clearing. Simutaneously, its small, high headlights flashed on, blinding Arch to the rows of blades that slid one into the other like a deadly loom.
Momentarily stunned, Arch fell to his knees, only vaguely aware of the grinding of the lift cylinder as it raised the teeth past the grill and partially blocked the headlights. The cylinder stopped when the teeth were neck high, and the last thing Arch heard was their grating clatter, the last thing he saw was a cloud of smoke that billowed white from the high muffler as the tractor bore down on him.
In the film we see Nan Youngblood (Leah Pinsent) running around in the wind at one point only to disappear until her slit-throat (dummy) corpse is found in the well later on. The book goes on to describe what happened to her. There is a good chance this was shot, because in the film the shot of her wandering is cut so short it's surprising they'd do a camera setup for such a short scene - it smacks of being finalized in the editing room. Just my idle speculation. But read on.
Her back against an oak on the outskirts of the woods, Nan looked over at the house. Though it was now a glow with soft lights, she had no desire to return, especially since Muffy was back. She couldn’t believe how wrong she’d been about her, Nan’s parents had always said that she was too trusting, but she hadn’t believed them. “Better to be overly friendly then overly suspicious,” she had always answered back. Now she’d paid. She couldn’t wait to be off the island, to go back home to her house and dogs, to sleep in her own room.
The leaves above her swayed gently to the north, towards the house, and Nan turned into the breeze. The woods behind her were dark but comforting, like a movie theatre when the lights went down. There was no one to hurt her, there was just the tranquility of nature for her to enjoy.
The moon was a brilliant cherry color as it rose beyond the lake. All around her the shadows were almost as thick as the silence, and she loved it. She couldn’t see the ugly rocks or the dismal toolshed, just the woods; she began walking towards and through them, enjoying the softness of the earth. She walked until she reached the spot where the woods met the field.
Nan stood there, smelling the sweetness of a cluster of nearby dandelions. As she did so, she thought she saw someone scurry through the foliage off to one side. She looked in that direction and now she saw a figure standing there, it’s face grinning back over the tops of the weeds. She squinted into the darkness and gave a little gasp: it was Skip.
Nan took a few steps into the brush.
“Skip!”
When she spoke, the head dropped down and he was gone with a rustling of weeds. Moments later, several yards to the south, Arch smiled at her across the swaying top of the foliage.
“Arch?”
He ducked down after a moment and Nan pressed after him. The underlying bindweed scratched at her bare legs but she ran on, laughing with relief as she pressed deeper and deeper into the thick expanse, farther and farther from the comforting lights of the house.
One of the youths moved nearly twenty yards ahead and she came to swift halt.
“Oh, you two – the trouble you cause! Please come back!”
When neither of them answered, Nan’s manner became tense and exasperated.
“Skip, c’mon now, everyone’s really upset with you. Arch, tell him…Arch?”
The foliage moved several yards behind her and she spun. Both faces were staring down at her, wearing goofy smiles. Shaking her head, Nan made for them.
“You guys just don’t know when to stop, do you?”
The young men watched in silence, their expressions unchanging, as Nan swam through the wind-cloud and the field fell utterly dark. Nan stepped on something slimy and it caused her to withdraw a step before it slithered off. She looked up again and noticed something odd about her companions. They were moving slightly in the breeze, actually listing to one side. She moved forward cautiously, spotting a dark ring around each of their necks. When she was just a few yards away the moon reappeared: in the direct moonlight she saw that the darkness beneath their waxen expressions was a ring of blood and that the heads were moving because there were no bodues. They were stuck on pikes that were slumping in the damp soil.
Nan began to hyperventilate. She backed away, hitting something that wasn’t there a moment before. She turned and in a blur or motion saw a pair of gloved hands raise hedge clippers high above her head, snap them open, and bring them down hard and fast toward her face.
And now, finaly after years of second guessing, the extended ending! In the past, we have 100% confirmed (here) that the film was initially longer with a hardened slasher-style climax, but the third act was completely cut off to get the movie to the short and all-comedy way we know it as. The novel, benefitting from working from the screenplay, had no such limitations. Print this out! After the party ending of the film, we learn Muffy wasn't responsible for all the clues left to scare everyone, and move to the next morning where everyone is hung over and leaves the island. They get an idea to turn the tables on Muffy, so set about finding a boat then gather to plan...
Huddled in the bow, Kit, Chaz, and Nikki reviewed their plan. Rob was to make a racket by the well. When Muffy came outside, Nikki was to make her way to the cellar. Then, upon Muffy’s return, Nikki would start thumping on the pipes to lure her down. That’s when the body count would start.
Rob cut the engine as they neared the shore. Slipping into the water, he pulled the boat parallel to the beach for several dozen yards toward the brush. Meanwhile, Chaz and Kit began helping Nikki apply her makeup, pasting a deep gash diagonally along her forehead and caking her hair and face with generous helpings of blood.
“I love it,” Chaz said with a chuckle. “You should always wear your hair like that.”
Kit laughed. “I’ve heard of dyeing your hair, but never killing it.”
“You’re all sick,” Rob muttered, staring at the reflected sunlight that sparkled around them, glistening like fire.
“Oh, cheer up,” Kit insisted, flicking a drop of blood at him. “Look at it this way: you can always write this up for a psych research paper.”
Chaz added, “Yeah, you can call it ‘How to Cause Traumas So There Are Always People To Cure.’”
Rob said nothing. He just waded onward, imaging himseld to be the long-suffering Gulliver. He was tugging boars to shore at the behest of Lilliputian minds, minds that would always be a fraction of an inch tall.
Mooring the craft to a shrub, Rob threw himself down on the sand while Kit doled out the rest of the blood pellets, handling one to Chaz and keeping one for herself. She entrusted the makeup kit to Nikki.
“Here, your spare eye’s in there.”
“Gotcha. I just jope I don’t screw up.”
“You won’t. Just wait by the kitchen door until Muffy goes out the front. The cellar steps are straight through the pantry.”
“Right. And after I hit the pipes, I just spread out like I;ve been hacked to death.”
“With your eyes shut. We don’t want you blinking and blowing it.”
Chaz grew intense. “Just to make sure I’ve got my part, I get the truck and wait with it at the first turnout—“
“And you don’t use your lights or horn till you hear the signal.”
“—which is Rob waving that you’re in position.”
“Right. Muffy’ll hear you and think help’s on the wa. When she runs out, you’ll fall dead at her feet. That’s when I come after her with the knife.”
With a burst of enthusiasm, Nikki rattled her fist toward the house. “Look out, Muffy, here we come!”
“Preach, lady, preach!” cheered Chaz. “Now go scare the shit out of her, she deserves it!”
Nikki grinned and set off, her head tilted back so she could see from beneath her bloody bangs. She tripped as she made her way through the brush but gamely scrambled to her feet; signaling her companions that all was well, she continued on. Chaz was the next to start out, heading toward the dock.
Kit turned to Rob. “you can stay here, if you like. I can signal Chaz.”
Rob arched one shoulder ambivalently. “Nah, I’ll come.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“You don’t sound sure.”
“I am. What I’m not is happy—but it won’t be the first time in my life, or the last.” He reached up and took her hands in his. “Y’see, there’s something else I learned this weekend. If you can’t bend for your loved ones, what the hell good are you?”
“Not much,” she said, breaking into a broad smile.
“Does that mean I’m a—“
“Very. I just never realized how much I loved you until I had to face losing you.”
Kit hugged his head, then stood back. “In that case,” she said, cracking a blood capsule with her thumbnail, “get up off that luscious butt of yours and give me a hand.”
Rob pushed himself from the dry sand and together they began daubing smears of blood on her cheeks and forehead. “Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are—“
“On a beach in the moonlight.” She posed with her hand behind her head.
“No,” he said, deadpan, painting a red stripe along her jaw, “when you’re bleeding.”
Kit stuck out her tongue and Rob sqeezed blood on it. She spat inelegantly, unaware that a few dozen paces to the north, hidden in the grotto, a pair of evil eyes was upon them. Their owner, content that it would take a few minutes for the two to get ready, turned and left, departing in shadowy silence.
Chaz crouched low at the edge of the field before stepping onto the beach. When he was certain there was no one around, he tiptoed toward the dock and then to the pickup. They key was in the ignition; quietly shutting the door, he started the engine. It coughed twice, then again, but kept running.
“So far, so good.”
Popping the clutch and the brake, he shifted into drive and slowly made his way to the road. Though the path was barely navigable in the fast-fading day, he didn’t use his headlights. “Stealth before safety,” he said over and over as he picked his way up the road.
Reaching the turn that led to the road cuts, Chaz pulled over. He left the engine running and turned on the reading light, tilting the rearview mirror so he could see.
“Better get gruesome now,” he told himself, “’cause you ain’t gonna be able to see shit once you get in there.” Plucking the blood pellet from his shirt pocket, he tried to break it; failing, he crunched it between his front teeth. The blood squirted messily across his lap. “Nice going, shit-for-brains.” Glad that Buck wasn’t around to witness his ineptitude, Chaz scraped up a few gobs with his finger, then rubbed them on his face and dumped the rest down the sides of his nose. Examining the results, he laid in a few streaks along his brow and then began working on his neck.
The light in the pickup rendered the windows opaque; Chaz did not see or hear the figure creeping along the bushes. With wraithlike movements, it reached the back of the car and went swiftly to work, fitting a long piece of rubber hose over the exhaust; when the pipe was covered, the figure trod silently beside the truck and quietly worked the other end of the hose through the hole in the floor of the passenger side. Wadding shreds of cloth around the hole, the evil figure lingered briefly to survey its handiwork, then turned and headed for the well.
Nikki blinked as another drop of blood oozed into her eye. A tear carried it out, leaving a filmy, red haze in its wake. She could barely see the weeds in front of her, let alone the edge of the field and the house beyond.
“I don’t believe this; I’m so fucked up. How do I let myself get talked into these things?” She stopped and folded a stick of Doublemint into her mouth. Her lips stopped trembling. “No ego, that’s your problem. Shit, I can’t even see where I’m going!”
Nikki relaxed somewhat when she finally discerned the well up ahead, but she began to shiver again as the sun went down and the island’s nocturnal chorus began. The well bucket had been reattached, and it creaked noisily on the rope; all around her, insects chirped to life and owls offered up their haunting cries.
As she passed the well, a twig snapped loudly behind it. Nikki stopped and held her breath, using a long fingernail to scoop a fresh trickle of blood from the corner of her eye. She waited, sustained by tiny puffs of breath.
“Chaz” Kit?”
Cursing herself for having agreed to go solo, Nikki forged warily ahead. Upon emerging from the brush, she noticed that there were no lights on at the house, making it little more than a black silhouette against the dark crimson horizon. She stopped again.
“Face it, Nichelle, you weren’t cut out to be one of the walking dead.”
Her eyes fell on the well again, and she looked at it in the darkness, Nikki remembered the last time she’d seen it. Thinking of Nan’s body and the severed heads reinforced her; Muffy deserved this, and Nikki turned to continue boldly toward the house.
The figure seemed to come from nowhere. Nikki glanced back at the house and it was there before her-arms upraised, a meat cleaver hanging dangerously in the air, its face hidden by the night.
Nikki flew back a step. “Jesus God Almighty!” she screamed, after nearly choking on her gum.
The figure came forward then, turning slightly; in the last rays of light Nikki was able to make out the wig and smock, the gaunt outline of the face. She put her hand to her chest and sighed.
“Oh shit, it’s you!”
The figure’s long sleeves and shirttails stirred in the breeze.
“All this work for nothing. Muffy, how the heck did you find out?”
The figure didn’t answer. The brow dipped slightly, throwing the eyes into the shadow.
“And where were you, behind a tree?”
The legs and torso remained immobile, but now the arm swooped down, slashing diagonally toward Nikki’s cheek. The young woman had to jerk her head back to avoid the rectangular twelve-inch blade.
“Hey, what’re you doing?”
The figure said nothing but took a few steps forward and slashed again. This time the razor-fine edge caught the sleeve of Nikki’s blouse, slitting from the elbow to the wrist.
“Muffy, stop it. This isn’t funny!”
The silent figure closed the gap again, swinging with both hands now. Nikki instinctively pushed up the makeup, kit, and the leather case took the blow that would have destroyed the front of her face. Realizing this wasn’t a joke, Nikki fled, screaming, into the brush. Having begun their own trek toward the house, Rob and Kit heard Nikki’s screams and came running. They met halfway through the field, Nikki bringing them all together in a mad embrace.
“Help, Kit! It’s Muffy, she’s gone crazy.”
“Muffy?”
“It’s horrible! She’s all dressed up again like Buffy, and she had this hatchet thing-“
“Hold on,” Rob said, “you’re not making sense.” Breaking from her grip, he gently urged her. “Start from the beginning and tell us exactly what happened.”
Nikki drew a long breath and sobbed lightly less hysterically. “I-I came out at the well and started walking toward the house . . . and she was waiting for me! Muffy must’ve seen us come ashore or something. I’m telling you, she tried to kill me!”
“You only thought she did,” Kit admonished. “It’s just like yesterday.”
Her mind reelking, Nikki held out her sleeve. “Look at this! This isn’t like yesterday! She just kept swinging at me and-God, if it weren’t for the makeup kit I’d be dead! If I hadn’t had that with me-”
“But you did, and it’s okay now.” Kit glanced sideways at Rob, and she was troubled by his serious expression. She said soothingly, “Muffy probably found out somehow what we were planning, and maybe she got a little carried away. But she was just trying to scare you-”
“No! I’m telling you she meant it! Oh God-where’s Chaz?” She turned suddenly and began running back through the field.
“Where are you going?” Rob shouted.
“I want Chaz!”
“Wait, we’ll come with you!”
The two set off after her, struggling through the dark field to the house and then down the driveway. The road was already pitch-black, and the trio had to proceed by touch until they saw the pickup and its faint reading light. Nikki ran toward it, laughing with relief.
“Chaz! Chaz!”
“Hold on,” urged Rob, breaking into a sprint. “Something’s not right-”
Even from up the road he could see that Chaz was slumped forward in the seat, his eyes shut. His awkward posture was not that of someone who’d dozed off, and Rob feared the worst. Nikki was the first to arrive and, looking in, she saw that his cheeks were rosy, almost as red as the fake blood along his nose. With a shriek of terror, she yanked the door open.
Before she could touch him, Rob arrived and pulled Nikki away, handing her to Kit. He bent over Chaz, grabbing a fistful of the young man’s shirt and shaking him; Chaz’s head lolled toward him, followed by the rest of his body., Rob was unable to hold him up and fell, Chaz landing on top of him.
Nikki screamed anew. “Oh God, he’s dead, isn’t he? Muffy was here and he’s dead!”
Rob wormed out from under the body. “No, I don’t think he’s dead.” Putting his head to Chaz’s chest, he heard a heartbeat and the sound of shallow breathing. Then he spotted the tubing beneath the car. “Son of a bitch!” Putting his lips to Chaz’s and pinching his nose, Rob blew three quick breaths into his mouth. Chaz’s hands fluttered and Rob repeated the procedure. Chaz moaned.
“Thank God!” cried Nikki, weeping now with gratitude and breaking away from Kit. She knelt beside him, cradling his head. “Rob, you saved him. You saved his life!”
Rob rose, silently grateful that they hadn’t come a minute later. From his experience as a camp counselor, he knew that Chaz had been perilously close to death.
Kit came over. “What couldn’t happened to him?”
Rob stretched out under the pickup and yanked away the tubing. “Carbon monoxide. This hose was tied to the exhaust. Recognize it?”
Kit shook her head.
“It’s from the boat house. I saw it there when I went back with Arch.”
Kit looked sadly at Rob, Then Muffy is playing for keeps.”
He thought for a moment. “Maybe,” he answered, his expression as skeptical as his voice.
“Maybe?” Nikki cried bitterly. “It’s just like Chaz said! Once it starts, something like this just snowballs! Muffy’s gone crazy.”
Rob shut the ignition. “Nikki, are you sure it was Muffy on the path?”
“Of course I’m sure! She was wearing that stupid smock and the same fright wig and horrible mask.”
Chaz opened his eyes just then and Rob squatted beside him. “Welcome back to the land of the living. You all right?”
“Y-yeah . . . I think so. What the fuck happened?”
“Muffy tried to kill you!” Nikki blurted. “She’s flipped out.”
“Chaz,” Rob said urgently, “did you see anybody?”
His flushed forehead creased with thought. “Uh . . . no. All I remember is getting a little lightheaded. Then nada.”
Rob rose, nodding to himself, then hurried to the flatbed. He opened a small wooden chest latched to the side.
“What are you looking for?” asked Kit.
“This.”
He pulled out a tire iron and took a few pracitice swings.
“Why do you need that?”
“Because I’m going up to the house.”
“Oh no you’re not,” she informed him.
“Kit, there’s no time to argue. Unless I’m mistaken, Muffy’s in danger.
“Muffy?!”
“Think about it,” he said. “What happened to Chaz was no accident, and finding the boat on the shore like we did was no accident. A lot of things that don’t make any sense were no accidents. Something’s happening.”
“Yeah, we’re starting to imagine things. Muffy isn’t in any danger, she’s up to her old tricks!”
“And I’m telling you she’s not. Chaz almost got killed; Muffy wouldn’t have done that. She’s nutty, but she’s not psychotic.”
“Then who-”
“I’m not sure, but what do you think’s going to happen if we don’t get there and find out?”
Rob didn’t wait for an answer but ran toward the house. After determining that Chaz and Nikki were all right, Kit hurried after him, her heart drumming and her mind chilled with an awful sense of déjà vu.
CHAPTER 19
The figure was standing beside the drainpipe near the corner of the house. Flinging aside the makeup kid, it stropped the meat cleaver on the hem of its smock. Tilting it slightly from side to side, satisfied that the blade was still sharp, the figure ducked behind the bushes near the kitchen door.
Inside the kitchen, Muffy pressed a glass to the automatic ice maker. Stepping away, she heard something clatter outside, a tinny rat-a-tat from the side of the house. It had been four hours since Skip had called; she was convinced that her classmates had had second thoughts about their undertaking and weren’t coming.
“Probably a squirrel or raccoon,” she told herself as she went to the tap to fill the glass.
Their aborted plan was fine with her. She’d do some studying while she was fresh, then get the bulk of the dishes done before Clara returned in the morning.
As she turned from the sink the clattering came again. Setting the glass aside, Muffy switched on the porch light and opened the door.
A plastic eyeball was banging against the drainpipe, hanging on my optic nerve that had been slung over one of the brackets. She stepped back in, her hands on her hips. “So they’ve come after all.” Shutting the outside light, she hurried to the study. There she heard another sound, the squeaking of the kitchen door. Muffy shook her head and sat down behind the desk.
“Okay, guys, come and get me.”
Rob and Kit were preoccupied with the road, following its dark curves beneath the bluffs. Though their limbs still ached from the day before, they didn’t slow because of the greater pain inside, the knowledge that they they’d played into the hands of a canny lunatic.
“It’s all my fault,” Kit said as they rounded the last of the road cuts. “Rob, I’m sorry.”
“Forget it, Kit, regrets aren’t going to help anyone now.”
“I know. I just hope Muffy’s alright.”
They reached the driveway and slowed. Panting heavily, Rob took a moment to reconnoiter while Kit sat down on a rock. Her legs felt as if they were filled with wet sand, and she didn’t want to move; but when Rob said that the house looked deserted, she pushed off from her knees and slogged after him.
Since the side of the house was dark, they elected to go around the front, first. Rob clomped onto the porch and tried the door; it was locked and he laid into it with the side of his fist.
“Muffy, are you there?” He stepped back to the edge of the porch and looked up at the second floor. Her light didn’t go on and he pounded again. When she still didn’t answer, he and Kit reluctantly returned to the side.
They slowed by the drainpipe, holding hands as they made their way toward the dark bushes and the door beyond.
“Rob, there’s no way she couldn’t have heard you banging on the door.”
“Stop it! She might be in the shower or listening to her Walkman.”
Falling silent, they turned their attention to the dark stretch that lay before them. The leaves of the trees shivered in the sudden gust, the shrubs, shuddering and scratching against the house.
“Rob, I’m Scared –“
Kit wrapped herself around his arm as they continued on. They heard the bushes tremble again and kept their eyes glued to the door. Rob’s fingers tightened around the tire iron, the metal hot in his sweaty palm. He raised it shoulder-high, cocked back, ready to crack anything that wasn’t Muffy.
Upon reaching the screen door, Rob opened it and stepped inside; Kit waited on the stoop. He made no secret of his entry, feeling secure behind the tire iron.
He looked around. The refrigerator door was open, spotlighting the room with white light. He went over and felt the decanter of orange juice, then checked in the pantry and tool closet. Convinced the room was safe, he called Kit. She came in, her eyes on the refrigerator. “What do you make of that?”
“The stuff inside is still cold. Also, there’s some fresh water on the counter. That means either Muffy was scared off or we scared the killer off.”
“What would the killer be doing making a freakin’ snack?”
“I don’t know. Who said a fuckin’ killer is normal?”
The pair made their way into the dining room, Rob turning on the dimmer switch and cranking it up full. He called Muffy’s name several times as they made their way deeper into the house. Finally entering the living room, they saw a faint, shielded glow coming from down the corridor.
“That light. . .it’s the study, isn’t it?”
Kit nodded.
Rob yelled, “Muffy, you in there?”
After a few seconds Kit snarled, “Nothing! Christ, please don’t let us be too late.”
They approached slowly, watching for shadows, alert for any movement. Rob flashed back to when he was a child and used to play hide-and-seek with his father. Whenever he was on the verge of finding the big man, his father would lunge at him, sending him to the floor with nervous laughter. Rob felt small again, and terribly vulnerable. Slowly, moving now by inches, they approached the open doorway, reached it and peered in. Rob swore at the sight that greeted them; Kit just stared in silence.
Muffy was face-down on the hardwood floor, her throat cut from ear to ear. She lay in a long pool of blood that stretched from her breast to her forehead; her eyes were shut, but her mouth was frozen in a dead scream.
“Oh God!” Kit gasped, her voice a rush of dry air. Rob turned her aside, but they both looked back suddenly as the bushes rustled outside the study window. Running in, Rob yanked the desk lamp from the wall and pushed his face to the window.
“Shit, there’s someone out there.”
“Rob, I’m so, so scared”
“You ‘n’ me both,” he admitted, pushing Kit into the hall and running with her into the living room. As they turned toward the dining room, the light went off; backing into a living room lamp, Rob switched it on.
The figure was standing just a few feet away and Kit screamed. It was as Nikki had said, someone dressed as Buffy-only this new Buffy was taller, with awful eyes. Cruelly narrowed, they held the youths with contemptuous fire.
The meat cleaver swept once, the figure putting its back into the effort. The fury of the swing discouraged Rob from attacking with his tire iron and he pushed Kit back toward the front door. Throwing the dead bolt, he pulled on the knob; but the key bolt was still locked and the door wouldn’t open. Rob smashed at it with the tire iron but the lock was barely dented.
“Up the stairs,” he ordered, waiting until Kit was well on her way before he followed. They hurried to Muffy’s room and locked the door.
Kit wrung her hands quickly “What now? What do we do?”
Rob ran to the balcony and looked down at the trellis. “We get the fuck out. You first. Go to Chaz and Nikki and start the pickup.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll follow as soon as you’re down!” He screamed, just as the door flew open. The killer dropped the key to the floor and walked forward. The thin-lipped smile was wider than before as the killer came to Rob and Kit, their backs to the balcony.
With a cry of rage, Rob threw himself across the room. But the figure, surprising him with its agility, ducked aside, spun, and came at Rob before he could turn. Unable to bring the tire iron fully around, Rob took the attack with his hand. The edge of the meat cleaver sliced a deep flap at the side and, squealing horribly, he dropped the iron; the blade came down again, this time cutting hard into his shoulder. The force of the blow drove Rob against the bed and he sank, barely conscious, to the floor.
Kit had watched the brief tussle with transfixed disbelief. Though the evil grimace was turning now on her, she snapped from her stupor and ran toward Rob.
“No,” he said, waving quickly at her, “get out!”
With a snarl, the figure took a moment to slash back at Rob. The tip of the blade caught him on the chin and he folded back, whimpering with pain. The intruder paused then, to shut the light before resuming its approach. The glow of the rising moon illuminated the meat cleaver, blood running along the blade and dripping onto the figure’s white sleeve.
Panicking, Kit turned to the balcony, feeling frantically for the trellis. But she was unable to find it beneath the crawling ivy and looked back with desperation. There was nothing to grab, nothing to protect her. Letting out short, frightened gasps, she slapped the French windows shut; the figure kicked them open disdainfully, the glass shattering. Kit screamed once, then melted to her knees; she pleaded for herself and Rob in trembling, unfinished phrases as the figure loomed closer.
The lights flashed on just then and someone ran in. The horrid face turned as Muffy jabbed a knife into its side, the figure gasping as Muffy stepped back. She was smiling incongruously, still holding the knife and pushing the retractable blade in and out.
“Gotcha!” she said, nearly tripping over the moaning Rob. She looked down. “Hey, Rob, that’s real good. Better than the impromptu job I did in the study.”
The figure looked at her with malevolent anger. The meat cleaver came up and Muffy rolled her eyes.
“Okay, guys, the fun’s all over. I’m scared to death, okay?”
Crawling into the room, Kit rasped, “Muffy, it’s no joke!”
“Sure, Kit.” She reached for the mask. “Who’s in there, Chaz?”
The cleaver slashed the air, Muffy barely withdrawing her hand in time.
“Hey, I never came that close to you guys!”
“Muffy!” Kit put her entire body into the word. “It’s not Chaz!”
Muffy took a few steps back. “You’re. . . serious?”
The blade came down again with incredible force, missing Muffy as she jumped to the right, toward the bed. She looked into the face of her awful double.
“Who-who are you?”
She stumbled onto the bed, backing up against the headboard. It was just like her dream, only this time there was no escape, no birds or sunshine to wake her.
Seeing her friend’s predicament, Kit pulled herself up, holding onto the window frame when her knees refused to lock. She worked out a chunk of the broken windowpane and hurled it at the figure. “Leave her alone, you bastard!”
The glass broke harmlessly on the interloper’s back, but Kit’s cry drew Rob from his pain. Rising unsteadily, he saw Muffy cornered on the bed and noticed the scissors on her dresser. Falling on them, he mustered all his strength and threw himself at the figure. Plunging the blade hard into its back, Rob staggered off to the dresser and flopped across it, watching as the figure’s head came back, a horrible gurgle rising from its throat. Turning with its furious eyes on Rob, the figure lurched forward. The meat cleaver came up once again and fell-but only to clatter helplessly to the floor. The figure pivoted and followed it down, landing on its back and driving the scissors into the handle. The intruder shook briefly as though electrified, and then it went limp; the wig and mask fell off and Muffy crawled over, staring in shock at the face of her dead brother.
“I thought so,” Rob said as he pushed himself from the dresser. He dropped to a sitting position on the floor; Kit found her strength and hurried over.
Muffy knelt beside the corpse. “Skip? Skippy, talk to me!” She looked pathetically at Rob. “M-my blood wasn’t real . . . I was just pretending. He called and said it was going to be another joke.” She looked down, her brow wrinkled with sorrow.
Kit looked quickly at Rob’s wounds, then hurried to the bathroom. Grabbing a stack of hand towels and the first-aid kit, she began binding his chin. The disinfectant stung, but it roused him from his stupor. Still confused, Kit asked, “I don’t get it. You knew it was Skip?”
“I had a good idea,” he informed her. “Skip planned it all . . . he even planned that we’d come back.”
“You mean what he said on the raft, about turning the tables on Muffy?”
Rob nodded. “He was sure someone would bite. He knew what Muffy was going to do this weekend, so he decided to turn it all against her. The tape with Nan’s secret, the other things to make his sister seem like a heel-he did that to throw the authorities off his trail. After her death, he’d’ve been able to convince them that a lot of people had reason to hate her.” He thought aloud. “Harvey would really have had a rough time of it, what with having covered up the car accident.”
“And the boat?” Kit asked, finishing the chin and turning to his shoulder.
“He left it for us, probably also waylaid Cal, somehow. And he attacked Nikki when we came back just to get us scared and suspicious of one another. That way we’d have blamed each other when Muffy was found dead. Anybody except him, leaving him above suspicion-and Daddy’s sole heir. But you and me, we got in his way.”
Rob noticed the tension in Kit’s mouth and realized what she’d endured these last two nights. Yet she’d never deserted him, never let fear come between them. He stroked her hair, feeling prouder of her than anyone he’d ever known.
When she moved to attend his hand, Rob looked over at Muffy. She had stretched out her legs and held Skip’s head in her lap.
“It was a good trick,” Rob said soberly, “even better than Muffy’s. The guy was no fool, just a little overanxious.”
They heard the screen door open in the kitchen; Chaz and Nikki tramped in. “Kit, Rob, you okay? We heard screams”
“It’s okay, Chaz,” Kit called down. She glanced sadly at Skip. “It’s all over.”
Chaz and Nikki vaulted up the stairs, Chaz gaping at the carnage. “Jesus-is this shit for real?”
“One hundred percent,” Rob said. “Y’almost lost us.”
Muffy looked up at the newcomers and smiled.
“Oh, you guys . . . it was a sensation! We had the most fun up here. And Skippy, he was the best of all.” She pushed a strand of sweaty hair from his forehead. “He even scared me!” Muffy gazed down into Skip’s open eyes; Chaz turned from her, his expression filled with pity. He crouched beside Rob.
“So, hero-you gonna live?”
“Looks like it.”
Chaz said faintly, “Good,” but he seemed uncomfortable. He shifted from foot to foot and said “I, uh-hear ya saved my life.”
“It was nothing, my good deed for the day.”
“Yeah, well, I owe ya. I’m not very good at this . . . I mean, it’s embarrassing to fuck up like I did and have a guy you’ve been ranking on for years save your ass”
“Maybe you’ll return the favor one day.”
Chaz grinned. “Mouth to mouth? I said I owe ya, but if I ever have to kiss a guy to save him, he’s a dead man.”
Kit sat back on her heels and examined her handiwork. “There, that should hold. Chaz, wanna take an arm?”
“As long as I don’t hafta kiss him”
“Frankly,” Rob cracked, “I’d rather die.”
The two helped Rob to his feet, his right arm around Chaz’s shoulder, Kit holding his left side so as to not move the shoulder. Nikki, stunned to silence by what she’d seen, kept an eye on the bandages.
“Going so soon?” Muffy inquired.
They lingered, looking down at her. Chaz finally broke the unpleasant silence. “Yeah. Gotta study.”
Muffy smiled. “I understand.” She looked down at Skip, whispering in his ear, “Dad’s going to be so proud of you. You sure fooled him-teasing, having your fun.”
Her eyes filled with tears and Nikki started toward her; Rob motioned her back.
“There’s nothing we can do for her,” he said, locking at Muffy’s wide grin. “Madness is sometimes the best way of dealing with tragedy.”
With grave expressions, the foursome left as Muffy began talking to Skip again, a childlike lilt to her voice. “Now Dad won’t deny you anything. We’ll share it all, Skippy, together.” Her smile broadened as she rocked back and forth, humming close to Skip’s ear. Outside, the leaves spoke in their hushed tones and the moon just rose brightly over the mainland.
“Just you and me,” she said quietly, hugging his head to her chest. “You and me together, a team, for the rest of our lives . . .”
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