The Pumpkin Man

CHAPTER

NINETEEN

Morning light streamed across Nick’s bare shoulder, and Jenn smiled as she gazed at his skin.

She pulled the sheets close and shifted her body just slightly, pressed herself against his hip. He looked to be deep asleep, his mouth slack against her pillow, and she didn’t want to wake him. But the memories of his touch, his gentle pressure against her in the darkness just a few hours before made her crave to feel his skin against hers again.

As she slipped an arm across his shoulders, he stirred and one eye trembled open. It closed again, briefly, before opening wider. For a second he looked disoriented and surprised.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Hey back.”

“What’s for breakfast?”

“Cherry pie?” she offered, snorting as she said it.

Something soft and yet hard pressed against her inner thigh, and she levered herself closer, pressing it tighter to her most secret flesh and—

The morning was broken by a ghastly scream.

“That was Kirstin,” Jenn gasped, rolling away.

She tossed off the covers and bolted from bed, grabbing her robe from the back of the bedroom door on the way. Behind her, Nick leaped to his feet and pulled on his jeans, neglecting to even look for his underwear. The scream came again, but this time it sounded more like a cry of anguish than one of fear or pain.

Jenn ran down the hall to Kirstin’s room and rapped once at the door with her fist, not waiting for an answer before turning the knob. She pushed the door open and stepped inside to see Kirstin in bed, holding a blood-spattered sheet over her naked chest. Tears streamed down her face and her mouth hung open, and she sucked in air with great hyperventilating gasps. Lying next to her was the body of her boyfriend.

The body. Not the head. Jenn saw the ragged wound of Brian’s neck and the gore spattering the hair of his broad chest, but his head and face were gone. The sheets were stained a deep and still-wet red.

Jenn stepped around the bed to hug her roommate from behind. Both girls stared helpless at the corpse.

“Sweet fuckin’ Jesus,” Nick said as he entered the room. “Brian,” he whispered, and then looked hard at the sobbing Kirstin. “What the fuck happened?”

Kirstin shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “We fell asleep together. . . . I know he got up at some point to go to the bathroom. When I woke up . . .”

Jenn felt something cold and slimy against her toes. Looking down, she saw she’d stepped on the fleshy part of a carved triangle. A small jumble of other pumpkin pieces were piled just beyond at the foot of the bed. Their orange skins were again smeared darker. Blood.

“Get out of the bed,” Jenn whispered.

“But I’m not wearing—”

“I don’t think that really matters right now.”

She helped Kirstin up and took her to the bathroom. Nick stood silent by the bed, pulling back the sheet to view the full remains of his friend. He didn’t know whether to hate Kirstin and Jenn or be afraid for them; for the moment all he knew was that his best friend was gone. Deluged by memory, he had no problem with letting the tears flow.