Hell on Earth

Chapter Six - The Woods

Cynthia went home and quickly changed into some jeans and running shoes. She loved her boots, but she wasn't going to be running for her life in them. After she threw on her favorite jean jacket, she got her machete from underneath the bed. She had remembered when her mom let her get the damn thing. Cynthia knew that it was a pity gift, but she didn't care: she had never felt safer than when the blade was underneath her bed.

She put on a belt and clipped the sheath of the blade to that. It wasn't pretty, but it would keep the machete within reach. By the time the clock hit 3:45, Cynthia was already out the door and walking towards the clearing that Jonathan was talking about. She knew the place well. It's the place her and Jonathan would always go to talk. It was the perfect halfway point between their houses. It worked out great that it was in the Wheeler's backyard.

She saw Nancy walking towards the clearing. Their paths crossed and they started to walk to the woods.

"You ready for this, Nancy?" Cynthia asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Nancy nervously gripped the bat. "How do you seem so calm?"

"At this point, I think I'm in shock," Cynthia chuckled. "I'm running off of adrenaline and granola bars at this point."

"Fair enough."

They got to the clearing and Jonathan was already shooting the gun. Cynthia couldn't help but to laugh as he missed every single shot that he took.

"You know you're supposed to hit the cans, right?" Nancy teased.

"No actually," Jonathan joked. "You se ethe spaces between the cans. I'm aiming for those."

"Ah," Nancy said.

"If you're the one who has the gun, we're doomed," Cynthia said.

"Do you want to try then?" Jonathan asked.

"Not at all. I have higher chance of accidently shooting you guys or myself before I actually shot the monster," Cynthia held up her hands. "I have my machete and that's all I need."

Jonathan held the gun out to Nancy, "You ever shot a gun before?"

Nancy scoffed at the idea as she took the gun, "Have you met my parents?"

"Yeah, I haven't shot one since I was ten," Jonathan said.

Cynthia looked at Jonathan confused. She had never heard this story before, and she definitely before she moved into town.

"My dad took me hunting on my birthday," Jonathan explained. "He made me kill a rabbit."

"A rabbit?" Nancy asked.

"Poor Peter Cottontail," Cynthia muttered.

"Yeah," Jonathan looked down sadly. "I guess he thought it would make me more of a man or something. I cried for a week."

Nancy couldn't contain her shock, "Jesus."

"What?" Jonathan laughed. "I'm a fan of Thumper."

"I meant your dad," Nancy said.

"Yeah," Jonathan looked sad and uncomfortable at the mention of his parents. "I guess he and my mother loved each other at some point, but I wasn't around for that part." Nancy cocked the gun. "Just, uh, point and shoot."

"That's a breakthrough discovery, Jon," Cynthia teased.

"I don't think my parents ever loved each other," Nancy said.

"They must have married for some reason," Jonathan said.

"My mom was young," Nancy started to get the cans in her sights. "My dad was older, but he had a cushy job, money, came from a good family. So, they bought a nice house at the end of the cul-de-sac and started their nuclear family. Screw that."