A few seconds later, Kevin's voice crackled back through the radio.
"Sorry, I was checking the map. We're in Poho County—we passed an abandoned old church earlier today! Are you cops?!"
"Old church…"
Jack grabbed the map beside him and traced the route with his finger.
"What exactly is trying to kill you?" he asked again, voice steady.
Kevin was losing it. "Just tell me—are you a fucking cop or not?!"
"Listen up," Jack snapped. "I'm on Highway 9 right now, but I'm still a ways from that church. It'll take me a minute to get there."
Kevin's voice cracked with desperation. "Just call the police! Get someone out here!"
"I'll notify them right away," Jack said coldly, then clicked the radio off.
He glanced at his oldest son, who was already geared up and waiting. Jack gave him a silent nod.
Notify the police?
Those idiots would treat the body like evidence, haul it off for tests, and file a report.
Jack didn't want paperwork.
He wanted revenge. He wanted justice. And he was going to get it with his own two hands—by ripping that thing that took Billy into pieces.
…
Inside the RV.
Kevin jumped up, face lit with pure relief.
"Yes! We finally got through!"
Micki gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, tears welling in her eyes at the news.
Scott, on the other hand, couldn't even fake a smile.
He sat hunched in the back, face dark, eyes locked on Patty with pure venom, brain clearly spinning.
Kevin opened his mouth to brag about his radio skills—
THUD!
A deafening crash slammed down on the roof. The entire RV dipped hard, then bounced back on its suspension.
The ceiling caved in with a metallic crunch.
Before anyone could react—
SHRRRIP—
A black clawed hand punched straight through the metal, five razor talons sinking into Kevin's skull. In one brutal yank, it ripped him out through the hole like a rag doll.
"AHHHH!!!"
One last scream, then silence—except for the thick gush of blood pouring through the new roof vent, soaking the radio he'd been cradling.
The sudden horror turned the RV into a tomb.
Micki's pupils shrank to pinpricks. Fresh blood splattered across her face again.
The warm, coppery smell dragged her straight back to watching Brad's head get sliced off.
Pure terror made her slam both feet on the brake.
SCREEEEECH!
The RV lurched forward then jerked to a stop. The already-messy cabin turned into total chaos—beer bottles rolling, snacks flying, blood everywhere.
"What the fuck?!" Scott screamed, scrambling on all fours like a turtle. He stared up at the bloody hole in the roof. "What the hell just happened?! Where's Kevin?!"
Before he could get up—
BANG!
A hideous face slammed against the windshield, inches from Micki.
"AAAAAHHH!!!"
Micki screamed, staring at the nightmare right outside the glass.
She fumbled with her seatbelt, then crawled desperately toward the back of the RV.
It was the Creeper.
It wasn't dead.
Its shattered skull had already healed perfectly, like nothing had ever touched it.
Patty's face went pale.
The Creeper crouched on the hood, grinning at the three of them inside like they were its favorite new toys.
Its eyes flicked sideways, like it had just thought of something hilarious. A cruel smile spread across its face.
It raised one finger and tapped the glass—then gave Scott a slow, deliberate wink.
"Me?!" Scott pointed at his own chest. When the monster nodded with that same playful grin, he started shaking his head so hard it looked like it might fall off.
"No no no—I taste terrible! I don't exercise, my meat's all fatty and gross! Eat her! Eat Patty! Or Micki! Just not me!"
The Creeper tilted its head, pretending to think it over.
Then its finger slowly swung and pointed straight at Micki in the back.
Micki froze. A chill raced down her spine.
It felt exactly like walking alone at night as a kid—knowing something was right behind you. She could barely breathe.
She shot Patty a desperate look, silently begging her badass best friend to pull out that gun again and fix this.
Patty gave the tiniest shake of her head, gripping her pistol tighter.
She'd used the last full magazine making sure the thing stayed dead earlier.
She wasn't a real demon hunter. She'd watched Dante casually pop monsters with a few shots and figured that was the move.
Who the hell brings extra magazines on a spring-break road trip?!
"No bullets left?" Micki read the look instantly. She knew Patty too well.
"You… you already killed my boyfriend! Why are you still after me?!" she screamed at the monster outside, voice cracking with despair.
Then a vicious idea flashed across her face.
Micki suddenly stood up, pointed straight at Patty, and shrieked at the Creeper through the glass:
"It's her!"
"She's the one who shot you! Go after her!"
"Take her! We'll give her to you! Just let us go, please!"
The Creeper's grin widened, clearly delighted.
It gave Micki a big thumbs-up, like she'd just earned a gold star.
These two meals were smart. It loved it when the prey turned on each other. Fine—they could be dessert later.
Patty stared at her in disbelief. "Micki?! What the hell are you—"
"Yeah! She's the stuck-up bitch who thinks she's better than everyone!" Scott jumped in, eyes full of hate. "If you want her, she's yours! Take her!"
(If his dad hadn't drilled into him how special Patty's background was and ordered him to win her at any cost… and if she wasn't so damn hot… he never would've put up with her attitude.)
But right now?
Fuck his dad. Fuck the family name.
When your life's on the line, who gives a shit about some girl?
If he couldn't have her, then she could rot in hell. Throwing her to the monster was the perfect trade for his own survival.
"Patty! This is all your fault! If you hadn't shot that thing, it never would've come after us!"
"Kevin's dead because of you!"
"Get out! Go on! Don't drag us down with you!"
Scott lunged forward, trying to grab her.
Patty looked at the two people she thought she knew—now complete strangers.
She couldn't believe the girl who used to laugh and gossip with her could say something like this.
"Don't touch me."
She slapped Scott's hand away, chest heaving as she forced herself calm.
She knew the monster wouldn't spare anyone even if she went outside, but she'd rather face it alone than die next to these two pieces of trash.
At least she'd die with some dignity.
Patty didn't look at them again. She walked straight to the door.
Micki's eyes flickered with a split second of guilt, but survival won out.
The Creeper licked the glass hungrily, watching Patty step out.
Right then—
VROOOOM—
Two bright headlights suddenly cut through the darkness from the opposite lane, pinning the Creeper and everyone inside the RV in their beams.