We both froze, standing stock-stil and staring at him and then we both screamed at the tops of our lungs. Carl and Al y saved us, pushing us forward in front of them, Al y laughing herself sil y.
We left some haunted caves and entered an open area that was a maze of cornfields.
“Oh shit,” I said, my heart starting to race again.
Indy had my arm in a vice-like hold and she was glancing around, ever vigilant, trying to prepare for the next scare (a wasted effort, these people knew what they were doing).
“What?” she asked.
“I don’t like cornfields.”
She stopped and stared at me.
“But you’re from Indiana,” she said.
Then, out of nowhere, the cornfields moved and Corn Husk Man jumped out at us. He swiped at us with hands made of dry, creepy husks. We both jumped back in sync, shrieked like raving lunatics and then Indy took off running, backwards, dragging me with her. We forged through Carl and Al y, knocking Al y on her ass. Indy was yel ing at the top of her lungs and I started laughing so hard, I couldn’t control it. Not only at Indy, but Al y going down on her ass. I was bent over with it, running doubled and trying at the same time to pul Indy back.
A monster caught us on the retreat and came out growling, Indy and I stopped dead then screeched like mad women, right in his face. I whirled her around, our arms stil locked and we went back the way we came.
We rocketed, stil screaming, by Carl, who’d fol owed us, then by Al y who’d gotten up. I slammed into Al y on the run and she went down, flat on her ass again.
I was giggling, looking behind, Indy dragging me forward and I shouted breathlessly, “Sorry!”
We both skirted Corn Husk Man and ran flat out, giggling and screaming, to the end of the corn maze. We stopped, doubled over, trying to catch our breath, holding on to each other but stil laughing. My ribs ached, just a little bit, but I didn’t care. I hadn’t laughed that hard in years and I didn’t remember the last time I’d had that much fun. We were in an open field, the front of our party was long gone. Al y and Carl would catch up, I was certain.
It couldn’t have been a second or maybe two later before we heard the chainsaw.
And I could say that there was nothing more terrifying, fake haunted trail or no, then being in an open field, in the dark, in the middle of nowhere and hearing the sound of a chainsaw.
Indy and I looked at each other, and, in unison, our heads moved and we looked over our shoulders at the chainsaw man who was coming toward us.
“Run!” I shouted.
At that point, it was every woman for herself.
Indy and I pushed off each other. She went to one side, I went to the other. I was watching her when I felt my feet hit something soft. The edges of the field were made out of foam rubber. I bounced off it and fel to my knees jarring my ribs, my breath stil gone but nevertheless, I was twittering like an idiot. I got up and ran, hel bent, toward Indy.
She’d made it a lot further, but then a monster jumped in front of her. She went sideways to avoid him, hit another patch of rubber and bounced off it, went down rol ing, straight into the monster.
He toppled over her and it looked like they started wrestling. Indy was out of control screaming and struggling, half-terrified, half-laughing. The monster was hindered by a big costume that was a lot of shredded material. They swiftly got al tangled up, a flurry of arms, legs and costume.
I stopped dead and bent over laughing, holding my stomach, giggling so hard I was pretty certain I was going to pee my pants. I should have helped but I couldn’t. It was simply too damned funny watching Indy and the monster rol ing around in the dirt like that.
Then I was tackled.
I went down, hard.
I was stunned and winded, the fal jarred my ribs and it hurt. The arms around me were strong and not messing around. I couldn’t imagine the monsters were al owed to touch you, much less tackle you. Maybe we were in trouble for running around like crazy people. Maybe we were being ejected.
I struggled, turned and stil ed at what I saw.
Bil y had me.
Shit!
I screamed, not a giggly scream, a real one and it pierced the night, fil ed with genuine terror.
“Shut the f**k up,” he got up, yanking me with him.