Halloween: The Official Movie Novelization

31

While relaxing with a glass of wine, Karen sat on the corner of her sofa, reading her book club’s selection for the month, a murder mystery with literary pretensions set in fifteenth-century Florence, Italy. The plot revolved around a Renaissance painter attempting to solve the murder of his patron. But the book was a doorstop, weighing in at close to nine hundred pages, and Karen had trouble keeping the names straight in her head. Apparently, the book had become popular enough to spawn a few sequels, the second book set in Venice and the third in Genoa.

Wearing her Christmas sweater, she was determined to avoid thinking about the current holiday by focusing on a more joyful one. They’d had a couple trick-or-treaters, even though their house remained undecorated, the porch light extinguished. Mostly, the kids who rang the bell had traveled from neighboring school districts to maximize their candy haul. Local kids knew better. With Allyson at the school dance, Karen had asked Ray to deliver the bad news to the wayward travelers. A few more hours and it would all be over… until next year.

Karen flipped back a few pages when she realized her mind had wandered. Had Lorenzo stabbed Benedetto in the cathedral—or Bartolomeo? One of the two remained a suspect, the other a victim. And she couldn’t remember if Agostino was still alive or if he had been the one who discovered Francesca’s drowned body in the grotto. Obviously, her chosen form of distraction created distractions of its own, and she began to feel maybe she’d skip the book club discussion this month.

“You’re awfully quiet in there,” Ray called from the kitchen. “Not spying on your daughter, are you?”

“Spying? Moi?” Karen replied. “How could I possibly spy on my daughter? She’s at school and I’m curled up here with a book. A big-ass book.”

“You know what I mean.”

Karen glanced at her phone on the coffee table. “Okay, okay, I may have looked for tweets, scrolled her timeline, checked her Instagram.”

“And…?”

“It’s frustrating,” Karen said. “Some pics at the school gate, but nothing since they went into the dance. I thought she was part of the connected generation.”

“Maybe they’re having too much fun to post online.”

Karen laughed. “No, seriously,” she scoffed. “The school must have a cellphone jammer.”

“I’m sure that’s it,” Ray called. “And I hear the gymnasium is a massive Faraday cage.”

“Ha, ha,” Karen fake laughed. “To be fair, I stopped checking after the first half hour. Giving my daughter some privacy. She can tell me all about it when—”

CRASH!

Karen almost dropped the glass of wine in her lap at the sound of pots and pans tumbling out of a cabinet in the kitchen. “Ray?”

“I’m okay!”

“I wasn’t worried,” she said. “What happened?”

“Checking the mouse traps.”

“Again?”

“Thought I heard one go off.”

“Did the man set a trap for a mouse?” she called, smiling. “Or did the mouse set a trap for the man?”

“Mice are not smart enough to booby-trap kitchen cabinets, dear,” Ray yelled back.

“Well, did you catch it?”

After a pause. “No.”

So, the mouse is smart enough not to get caught in a trap. “And the peanut butter?”

Another pause, a little longer than the first. “Gone.”

“All of it?”

“Yes.”

“How’s that possible?” she wondered. “Don’t those traps have a hair-trigger?”

“How the hell should I know?” Ray said. “GMO mouse? Sneaky bastard.”

“Let me see if I have this correct,” Karen teased. “You think a genetically modified mouse got into our home?”

“Until a better theory comes along,” Ray said. “I blame unethical science.”

Karen laughed. “Maybe the mice work in teams,” she said. “One holds the trap steady while the other one scoops off the peanut—”

Blue and red emergency lights flashed through the windows.

Setting her book down on the coffee table, Karen stood and peered through the curtains of the living room window. Two cop cars had pulled up in front of the house.

“Karen?” Ray called. “Everything okay?”

“Police.”

“What?”

“The police are here,” Karen repeated, louder. She had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something had happened to Allyson at the dance. Unbidden, her mind began to envision scenarios, each more troubling than the next, when someone knocked on the front door. As far as she could tell, the cops hadn’t exited their vehicles, so who…?

Hurrying to the front door, she pulled it open to find—

“You have to go,” her mother said. Not “Hello.” Not “How are you?” Not “Mind if I come in?” “It’s not safe to be here.”

Exasperated, Karen said, “Mom! Do we have to do this?”

Past Laurie’s shoulder, Karen noticed four police officers gathering at the curb, their expressions various shades of grim. Once again, Karen began to imagine the worst. If the police were involved…

Karen felt her body begin to tremble, her hands visibly shaking. Laurie noticed and took them in her own, holding tight. A wave of overpowering emotion threatened to engulf her. Laurie’s eyes were bright, but she appeared in control of herself, determined. In contrast, Karen felt as if the ground were crumbling beneath her feet.

Ray came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dish towel, and stopped abruptly. “What’s your mother doing here? Thought you said the police—?”

“Where’s Allyson?” Laurie asked Karen.

Karen’s irrational fears roiled again, surging inside her, like lava spewing up from the caldera of an erupting volcano. Is she missing? Has something really happened to—?

“Where’s Allyson?” Laurie repeated, the concern in her voice escalating quickly with Karen’s silence.

“The dance,” Karen said. “She went to the school dance with Cameron.”

“So, you don’t know?”

“Know what, Mom? What are you talking about?”

Laurie glanced back briefly at the police before explaining. “The police canceled the dance. The school was evacuated. Everyone sent home.”

“Why—Why would they do that? What happened?” Karen asked frantically. “Was there an accident?”

“You haven’t been watching the news?”

“No, I’ve been—Why? What’s this all about?”

“He escaped.”

“Who—?”

“Michael,” Laurie interrupted. “The transport bus never made it. He killed the guards and the driver. Four people at a service station and…”

“And what?” Karen asked, grabbing her mother’s arms, fighting the impulse to shake her to find out what she was withholding. “What’s happened?”

“He killed at least two people in Haddonfield,” Laurie said softly. “Two that we know of… and one of them was a babysitter.”

“A babysitter…” Karen whispered. “That’s…”

“It’s happening all over again,” Laurie said. “He’ll come for me. To finish what he started. And if he comes for me, you’re not safe. Allyson isn’t safe. I tried to stop him tonight, but—”

“Tonight?” Ray said. “You’ve actually seen him?”

“I shot him,” Laurie said. “But he got away before I could… The point is, you’re not safe here. None of you.”

“But the police—outside?” Karen said, gesturing toward the curb.

“Yes, the police have been assigned to protect you and me,” Laurie said. “But they don’t know what they’re dealing with. They’re treating him likes he’s—what they know. Not what he is.”

“You’re not making sense,” Ray said.

“This house is not secure,” Laurie said. “You admitted you’re unarmed. These windows and doors are nothing to him.” She shook her head. “Nothing here will stop him. Or slow him down.”

“What are you suggesting?” Ray asked.

“Come with me,” Laurie said. “The police agree on this. My house is safer. It’s fortified. And I have… Well, I have an arsenal.” Laurie took Karen’s face gently in her hands. “I’ve been preparing your entire life for this. Nobody else is ready to deal with Michael Myers like I am. It’s all I’ve thought about since 1978.” Laurie took a deep breath. “Now call your damn daughter and let’s get the hell out of here.”

Karen nodded and walked to the living room coffee table for her phone with Laurie right behind her. After speed-dialing Allyson’s cellphone, she said, “Voicemail.”

After the prerecorded message, Karen clutched her phone with both hands and spoke quickly, trying to stay calm but unable to keep the urgency out of her voice. She needed to convince Allyson of the seriousness of the situation, but without scaring her to death. Her daughter needed to stay calm long enough to get help.

“Allyson, you need to call me the second you get this. The police said the dance was evacuated and I haven’t heard from you. They’re making us go to your grandmother’s house for safety. We’re worried about you.”

Laurie grabbed the phone from Karen and somehow managed to sound calm when all Karen wanted to do was scream—or cry. She felt foolish now, for ignoring her mother all these years, for dismissing her concerns. Most importantly, for not taking the threat seriously. Her carelessness had put her own daughter at risk. If anything happened to—

Sensing her distress, Ray squeezed her hand and she fell into his embrace, eyes closed as she listened to her mother reach out to Allyson.

“There is a police officer at your house waiting for you,” Laurie said. “Get to them and they’ll bring you to us. We’re all together now. We love you…” Overcome with emotion, Laurie covered her mouth with her free hand for a moment, then continued. “Wherever you are… it’s not safe outside tonight.”

She ended the call and returned the phone to Karen, who cradled it in her palm, staring at the display, willing it to ring or flash a text or buzz or do anything to indicate Allyson had received the message.

“Did we tell her enough?” Ray asked. “Should we have told her about…?”

“No,” Karen said. “She’ll know it’s urgent. And she needs to stay calm long enough to get home. If she panics, who knows what she—?”

“I hope you’re right,” Laurie interrupted. “Sometimes we do more harm by keeping secrets, no matter how frightening. Maybe it’s better to know the truth.”

“She’s only a teenager,” Karen said.

“So was I back then,” Laurie said. “Allyson is resourceful. She’s stronger than you think.”

“Hope you’re right, Mom,” Karen said. “I pray to God you’re right.”