Prologue

Thursday, June 25th, 1998.

Lexie pushed open the cabin door and flicked on the light.

A group of boys were sound asleep.

Except for one.

She peered at the time on her watch, 10:27pm. She turned the light back off and started to leave the logged cabin, when one of the campers decided to ask her a question.

“Is Chloe with you?” he asked ambivalently.

Lexie smiled, ruffled his red hair, and gave him a wink as she exited the cabin.

She closed the door but not before hearing him refer to Chloe as his baby girl.

The camper’s name was Ryan Blevins, and she’d taken pity on him. Others made fun of him for his crush on Chloe and for not knowing how to bait his own hook. He would much rather be playing his guitar or reading comic books. The only time he got along with the other campers was when they would trade baseball cards. She knew he wrote a note to Chloe–she had yet responded to–it asked in black sharpie: Can we carve our initials in a tree?

It was the third week of Camp.

The camp had been going strong for thirty summers at Redville Lake, located in a rural Eastern Kentucky city known as Redville.

Lexie was homesick. She hoped the summer camp-counselor job would pay enough so she could start college. According to her parents, if one didn’t go to college, then they would have a miserable life.

Lexie contemplated giving up the dream of going to college and just working somewhere as a secretary. It had to be easier than law-school.

The eighteen-year-old girl was a beauty. She had long brunette hair that lolled effortlessly on her shoulders, it framed her delicate face. She had a pair of doe-brown eyes that were easy to get lost in.

She walked the trail leading to the canoe shed. Thick fog rose from the inky-black water and pierced through the trees surrounding her.

Snap!

The sound of a twig snapping stopped Lexie in her tracks.

Silence.

It was probably a squirrel or a raccoon, she tried to assure herself.

Or maybe some of the other counselors.

“Patrick? Chloe?”

She heard footsteps in the distance and saw flashlight beams frolicking on the trees.

Lexie’s perturbed demeanor was eclipsed by a wave of relief. She was certain it was Patrick and Chloe.

The person’s flashlight illuminated a toolshed. Lexie frowned bemusedly, that was not where they’d planned on meeting at. Chloe and Patrick had asked her to indulge in a threesome. At first she was hesitant, but it had been on her bucket-list.

“I bet you Lexie isn’t even going to show up,” she heard Chloe hiss in the opposite direction.

Why does it sound like they’re behind me? Lexie asked herself. She turned on her left heel and saw only darkness. She remembered a small red flashlight being in her back right-pocket. She slipped it out and shined it where Chloe’s voice was coming from.

“She could be waiting on us,” Lexie heard Patrick defending her. “Do you have a specific way you would like for us to begin?”

“I thought me and Lexie might take turns sucking you off.”

Lexie started moving towards their voices. She considered taking her top off. She opened her mouth to call out, but the sound of the toolshed’s wooded door creaking open startled her.

It was not Patrick and Chloe at the toolshed. No, their voices were emanating from the canoe shed–like their original plan–She realized, someone was lurking among them.

Lexie thought it could have been one of the female campers. Delilah Thorne. A fourteen-year-old troublemaker who had been getting in trouble every day since the camp started on Thursday, June 4, of that year.

Why the hell would someone else be out here, Lexie wondered.

Lexie tried to think about who it could be. Delilah was plausible, but she still didn’t seem like the most likely suspect.

She heard the clattering sound of tools crashing against concrete.

She did not hear Patrick or Chloe.

They’re laying low too, Lexie assumed.

The thick fog swallowed the woods and somewhere close, a hoot owl called frantically. Like it was urging Lexie to run.

Lexie resumed moving in the direction she heard her friends’ voices. She pushed through tangled roots and thick woodlands, scraping her left arm on a brier.

She was in great shape. Something she attributed to years of playing softball and hiking four times a week. One of the perks to being a camp counselor was she got plenty of opportunities to hike.

She could hear Patrick and Chloe bickering but was unable to decipher what they were saying to each other.

Footsteps once again. They were coming from the toolshed. Whoever it was, they were moving fast and slightly disoriented.

Lexie kept moving, she could see the tin-roof of the canoe shed. If she could make it, then she’d be safe. That’s what she kept telling herself. Again and again. Maybe Patrick and Chloe had called off the night of delectation after their argument. Or maybe they had given up on her joining them. The person shined their flashlight and its beams scanned across the green bushes in front of her, making her spine prickle with chill-bumps.

She literally got out of the woods but not figuratively.

A lamp flicked on in front of the small window. She watched Patrick and Chloe lock themselves in a passionate embrace. The two shared a long, passionate kiss.

Lexie saw the flashlight beam roam her legs. She tried to raise them higher as if she was playing a game of The Ground is Lava.

She reached out, her hands trembling in an uncontrollable manner, she was so close to the door.

The footsteps got louder.

Lexie bolted through the door, startling her half-naked friends.

“T-there’s somebody out there!” Lexie panted.

“What do you mean somebody’s out there?” Chloe asked, grimacing, not liking that Lexie had scared the hell out of her and Patrick.

“Just chill out,” Patrick said. “Did you see them? Did they say anything?”

“I saw their flashlight and I heard them moving through the woods.” Lexie informed her friends.

Lexie wondered by the way Patrick and Chloe exchanged glances if they believed her. They could have been too horny to care.

Patrick stood in his underwear, his erection dying to break free from the fabric walls. He had a long nose, a high school jock wannabe grin, his dark hair styled like it was still the late-seventies. He turned eighteen the day before.

Either way, it got under her skin.

But what Patrick said as he peeled Chloe’s teal bra off leaving her in her matching panties, revealing the girl’s perky breasts really irritated Lexie: “It’s just your imagination. Are you nervous about doing this?”

Her right-eye twitched, she folded her arms but did take some time to check Chloe out.

Chloe had sky-blue eyes, shoulder length blonde hair, her cantaloupe sized breasts swayed at the slightest movement, her dusty-pink nipples were erect and demanded attention. She was a bit overweight, but the eighteen-year-old did not give a damn about what some scale had to say.

“There is someone out there,” Lexie cried. Maybe it was someone pulling a cruel prank. Or it was something far more sinister.

“Do you think we’re the only three that snuck out tonight to have sex?” asked Patrick.

Lexie knew they weren’t the only ones sneaking out to screw. She hated how condescending Patrick sounded. Her best friend Trina Conley had been sneaking down to the lake every night to fuck the landscaper Westley Adams. She had to hear about his massive dick during lunch.

Patrick was fondling Chloe’s breasts when a large object shattered one of the windows, nearly striking him. That was enough to make him–and Chloe–start taking Lexie serious.

Lexie thought they could use one of the several canoes hanging on the wall to protect themselves. But doubt entered her mind.

“It’s probably Ned messing with us,” Chloe said.

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Lexie asked.

The object was a red brick, and it might have weighed five pounds. To throw one like that, the person outside had to be close.

Another brick came flying in and it put out the flimsy lamplight.

“What the hell?” Patrick shouted.

The person had plunged the trio into darkness. They remained close to each other, reaching out, Lexie chipped a nail on one of the canoe paddles. That’s what she needed, one of the paddles could save them if whoever was out there didn’t have a firearm on them. A small part of her believed they would be fine. Might have to fight for their lives but they’d survive.

Lexie held onto Chloe tighter when Patrick tried turning his flashlight on. But the light sputtered out.

“These flashlights never last,” Patrick grumbled. “Anyone else have theirs handy?”

“Mine is on the floor somewhere,” Chloe said, reaching out with her leg, trying to feel for it.

Lexie tried hers and it failed. “I’ve got a paddle if they come in here.”

Then there was the sound of an object being dragged across the logged cabin. Nothing too sharp, a faint gritty rasp, skrrrtt…

Lexie gulped, she curled her fingers around the paddle tightly. She started towards the door, wanting to be ready for whoever was on the outside, and she tripped over Chloe, who had cradled on the floor, shivering in fear.

“Chloe!” Lexie hissed, getting back on her feet and still hanging onto the paddle.

The person knocked on the cabin door, as if they were a guest or a pizza delivery driver. The knocking was slow and steady, rather than being rapid.

Lexie and her friends were being taunted. She knew that. She was desperate to hear someone say got you! Someone punking them. She began to think whoever was out there was hunting them.

“We could yell,” Lexie suggested in a whisper, thinking it would scare off the person outside.

Lexie’s sweaty hands squeezed the wooden paddle, getting a splinter in her right index finger.

The person shined their flashlight through the shattered window, causing the trio to squint, turn away and shield their eyes. The person lowered the light, and it reflected off a steel machete blade. This was all Lexie needed to see to make her aware that she and her friends were being attacked.

“Who are you?” Lexie shouted, hoping the campers, the other counselors or the owners would hear her. “What do you want?”

Silence.

After a couple seconds, the door swung open.

But no one was standing there.

“Alright asshole, enough is enough.” Patrick shouted, sounding like he was ready to fight.

Seeing who it was toying with them emerge from the fog, revealing themselves with their flashlight infuriated Lexie.

It was twelve-year-old Ryan. A devilish grin sliced across his fat face once he saw Chloe’s breasts. She rushed towards him, folding her left arm across her chest.

Lexie couldn’t tell whether it was inadvertent or not but he hastily brought the machete up, slicing her four fingers off and her thumb tip on her right hand, as if he was slicing an apple.

Blood dripped like a light rain from each hole that was once her fingers. Chloe screamed in agony.

“Put down the machete!” Lexie shouted.

“I did not mean to hurt you, Chloe!” he said.

Patrick charged Ryan but was unsuccessful at disarming him. Before he knew it, a quarter of the eighteen-inch blade was in his abdomen.

What happened next made Lexie feel like she was going to vomit. Ryan pushed the machete forward.

Patrick fell to his knees, arched his back and fell backwards. Once she saw the blood begin rolling out, Lexie swung the paddle, catching Ryan in the face.

Lexie believed she knocked the troubled boy out.

She knelt by Patrick. He urged her to get help. She retrieved Ryan’s flashlight that shined on her wounded friends. She picked up Chloe’s shirt, wrapped it around her dismembered hand to stop the bleeding, Chloe was anemic.

Lexie hoisted Chloe up, which wasn’t easy since there was a seventeen-pound difference between them. Lexie weighed one-hundred-thirty-nine pounds, Chloe weighed one-hundred-twenty-two pounds.

The fog was thicker than before, or it might have been Lexie’s fear making her think that. Nonetheless, she took a right and started towards the owners’ cabin, it would be on the left.

“Somebody please help us!” Lexie yelled.

They ventured into a more profound area of the woods, abandoning the path. The shorter distance was engulfed by deeper woods. The hoot-owl called frantically. The flashlight started to falter. Carrying her friend and running like a track star became too much, and the two girls plummeted to the hard ground.

Lexie winced; she crawled over to an unconscious Chloe. She checked for a pulse. Her friend was still alive. She lifted Chloe up and attempted to carry her in a fireman’s carry position.

“We’re almost there,” she said as if Chloe could hear her.

She heard Ryan coming their way. Twigs, fallen leaves crunching underneath his water boots.

What can I do? Lexie asked herself.

Ryan was getting closer.

“You’re not going to escape,” he sneered.

She could not focus on him and his taunts. She was twenty-five yards away from the cabin–quarter of a football field.

“We are going to make it, Chloe,” Lexie said, gritting her teeth. Her legs were getting cut and so was Chloe’s legs and back and her panties were torn by a brier that placed a bloody kiss on her left buttock.

Perhaps Ryan was possessed by the Devil himself. Because when she glanced over her shoulder, she could barely make his figure out. But he was way too close.

Lexie started crying again, she just wanted to get her and Chloe to safety, and she hoped Patrick was still alive.

“I’m not going to hurt Chloe,” Ryan said, closing the dark gap in between him and his two preys. The fog had drifted away, which allowed not just Lexie to sort of see him but he had the same ability to see her and Chloe.

Lexie’s adrenaline and fatigue were at a battle with one another. She felt not just the weight of Chloe on her shoulders, but also the weight of trying to survive. She knew one wrong move would be fatal.

She was not going to go down without a fight.

Eighteen yards away.

Crunch Lexie’s right shin collided with a stump, shattering the shin bone. Chloe went airborne and Lexie could hear her rolling down the small bank, where the female shower house sat.

Ryan laughed, twirling the machete around in his hands. She reached around, for a rock, a stick, a brick, glass bottle, anything she could hit him with.

Lexie cried out, defeated.

“I’ve got you now,” he said. “You and everyone else laughed at me for being in love with Chloe. You can all die.”

“Chloe would not want you to kill any of us!”

Ryan was at her, he shrugged and sliced away at her limbs, first her left leg below the knee, then right, above the knee, then her hands both were removed evenly. Blood shot out of each wound like a water fountain. She cried in agony.

She knew this was it. All she could think about was how her parents would take the news? Would her dad start drinking again? Would her mom get medicated? What about her younger brothers Jason and Adam, and her sister Jetta, what would she do? This undoubtedly would leave them broken.

Ryan slammed the machete into her sternum, busting through her spine. The tip of the blade got lodged into the dirt.

Lexie’s dreams, her journey, her ambitions, goals, were all over with. But come the news headlines, she was just one of many names.