THE CHOSEN Part Four: A GUIDED TOUR OF THE ABYSS, DISCOUNT PRICED Chapter 3

Deb struggled to run beneath the weight of the demonic mask. Gale had an arm around her waist, helping to support her and pulling her along. Angry voices resounded from the compound, just out of sight behind them. An engine growled and one of the men sprayed the surrounding terrain with gunfire. Like hellish mosquitoes the bullets sank into the verdure, seeking death.

“We have to get out of the road,” Gale said. “Go where the jeeps can’t follow us.” She led Deb into the jungle that bordered the muddy trail. All the native men she had freed had done likewise, knowing the chances for escape would be better if the group separated. Now she and Deb seemed alone in the damp jade gloom. But Deb knew they would not be alone for long.

“Any idea which direction we should head?” Gale asked.

Deb pointed straight ahead.

“Good enough.”

They ran as fast as either of them could. The undergrowth seemed determined to hinder their progress, grabbing at their ankles, trying to trip them, hold them. After a while, they had to stop. Deb collapsed to her knees, hugging the trunk of a bone-thin tree.

“Just for a minute,” Gale said, panting. She leaned against the tree, sweat dripping from her face onto the moss at her feet like dewdrops, or tears. “We can rest later.”

Deb unbuttoned her shirt, took it off, and draped it over Gale’s arm.

“What?” Gale looked over.

Deb gave a thumbs up.

“Oh, God, thank you.” Gale lay aside the pistol she still clutched in her right hand and put the shirt on. As Deb stood several inches taller than Gale, and with her being somewhat overweight, the shirt would have been too large for Gale under normal circumstances. However, it made for a passable single garment, the shirttails coming to midway down Gale’s thighs. Deb still had her bra to cover herself, along with her pants and boots.

“Weird how much better this feels,” Gale said. She picked up the pistol. “Here, you’d better keep this. I’m not sure I know how to use the bloody thing, anyhow.”

Deb made a shooing gesture.

“What, you want me to keep it?”

Deb repeated the motion.

“Well, I hope you’re not suggesting I leave you,” Gale said. “Because that is something I will not do. No martyrs on this safari. Got it?”

Deb gave a feeble thumbs up.

“Right, then. On your feet. Let’s move!” Gale helped her up and the two trudged on, deeper into the patch of forest.

By TheCheezman

WAYNE MILLER is the owner and creative director of EVIL CHEEZ PRODUCTIONS, specializing in theatrical performances and haunted attractions. He has written, produced, and directed (and occasionally acted in) over two dozen plays, most of them in the Horror and True Crime genres. He obtained a doctorate in Occult Studies from Miskatonic University and is an active paranormal investigator. Is frequently told he resembles Anton Lavey. And Ming the Merciless. Denn die totden reiten schnell!

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