The Lost Causes of Bleak Creek(85)

All heads turned as a small, almost silent vehicle pulled up right next to them.

“Hey, dudes!” Hornhat said, waving as he came to a stop. “Say hello to the Horn-cart.”

Of course the Hornhats had a golf cart. And of course they named it the Horn-cart.

“This baby’s top of the line,” Hornhat continued, running his hand down the candy apple red exterior as Janine shined her camera light on him and Travis nodded appreciatively. “?’Ninety-one model, built-in stereo. My dad even put in a subwoofer.”

“Uh. Okay,” Rex said. He hoped his choice of Hornhat for lookout wouldn’t get them all killed.

“Sorry I’m late, by the way,” Hornhat said. “Thought there would be clearer signage.” He stepped out of the cart, guilelessly introducing himself one by one—“Mark Hornhat, nice to meetcha”—to Janine, Travis, Ben, and Donna, who seemed particularly appalled.

“Do you have the scuba gear?” Ben asked.

“Oh, do I ever,” Hornhat said. He walked to the back of his cart, where, strapped in next to a bag of golf clubs, were two diving tanks, along with masks, fins, and breathing regulators. “Are y’all gearing up here?”

“Yes,” Ben answered. “Best to get fully prepped here to minimize our time at the spring.”

“Rad,” Hornhat said as he went to work, strapping the tanks over Rex’s and Ben’s backs and explaining how everything worked, Janine filming the whole time.

“I gotta say,” Travis said, wearing a black tank-top that, along with his utility belt, brought out the Redneck Batman even more than usual. “I’m still in shock about what you said Mr. Whitewood’s been doin’ with these kids. I mean, dang, you think you know somebody…”

“Yeah, well, thanks for being here,” Rex said, sitting on the back of the cart as Hornhat helped slide fins onto his feet. “I know that if we succeed tonight, you’ll be out of a job.”

“Aw, that’s no problem,” Travis said, fiddling with some of the keys on his belt. “I got some stuff to fall back on.”

“All set, amigos,” Hornhat said.

Rex stood up from the cart, the weight of the tank on his back making all of this feel more real. They were actually going through with it. He and Ben looked at each other in all their equipment, almost as if they were peering into a mirror. “This is good,” Ben said, his mask hanging off his neck. “Nice work, Mark.”

Hornhat gave a salute.

“It’s almost go-time. Let’s grab the blood.” Ben led Rex back toward the fence, where they’d dropped their blood bags, the collection of which had been an ordeal unto itself.

The body of Rex’s eighty-two-year-old barber, Harold, was at his parents’ funeral home, waiting to be embalmed the following day. Rex had seen his father drain blood from deceased people dozens of times, but he’d never tried it himself. With Ben’s surprisingly enthusiastic help, they’d drained the old man, an awkward and messy affair consisting of over two hours of poking tubes into a dead naked guy who used to hum along to Johnny Cash as he cut Rex’s hair. When all was said and done, they’d collected less than a gallon of blood. “I thought there’d be more,” Rex had said, right before scrawling a note for his dad (Drained him already. Hope that’s helpful!) and placing it on Harold’s belly. Ben had then suggested they supplement by getting pig’s blood from Riley’s hog farm, which sold pork directly to the public. It’d taken about ten minutes. And they’d gotten a lot.

“I have an idea,” Ben now said after picking up the bag of Harold’s blood. “Let’s cover ourselves with this.”

“What?” Rex asked. “Why?”

“Because we know human blood will open up the gateway. Pig’s blood isn’t a sure thing.”

“No, I mean why are we covering ourselves with blood at all?”

“Oh,” Ben said. “Because once we get down to the spring, we don’t know what’s gonna happen. We might drop our blood bags. We might be short on time. Lots of variables. But this way, we can take control of the situation and guarantee we have at least—”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, fine,” Rex said.

They took turns dipping their hands into the bag and rubbing layer upon layer of barber’s blood all over their clothes. The rotten metallic smell was absolutely heinous. They each stopped at least four times to dry heave.

Without saying a thing, Ben took a blood-dipped finger and decorated his face like he was preparing for war. Rex had no desire to follow suit, but he didn’t want to seem like he wasn’t committed. Holding his breath, he put two random lines of blood on his face.

“This is really disgusting and I don’t want to keep filming,” Janine said. “But I will, because I’m dedicated to my craft.”

“I hate this so much,” Donna said, covering her nose with her sweatshirt.

Hornhat reached into the bag without asking and streaked blood on his face, too.

“Y’all are nuts,” Travis said, smiling.

“Okay,” Ben said, knotting the rope around his waist. “To recap, once we get to the spring, Rex and I will jump in, poke holes in our pig’s blood bags, and start digging out Alicia. Janine will film. Donna and Travis will have the other end of this rope, and once we get Alicia out of the wall, we’ll loop the rope around her and give it three tugs. That’ll be the signal to start pulling the three of us back to land.”