Horror-Ween (Krewe of Hunters) by Heather Graham

Author:Heather Graham [Graham, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2019-10-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

They met the others that night in the costume ten.; Gordon Bentley, dressed in a cloak with a magician’s turban atop his head, was practicing one of his card tricks.

Janice and Connie were in the girls’ dressing rooms—areas with rigging and curtains and nothing more—while Marvin and Justin were in the men’s so-called dressing “rooms.”

Belinda was fussing over a repair on a black costume.

“Hey, you’ll get to see us in full regalia,” Justin said, emerging.

He was truly creepy. His costume was a prosthetic, but made to hug his flesh as flesh—and give the appearance of flesh falling off him, with the head piece crossed with lines in black and red that made it appear he had been hacked to pieces—but came back as the living dead.

“Ugh!” Keri told him.

“Yeah, cool, huh? I even scare football players,” Justin said proudly.

“I guess I’ll get in there,” Joe said, sliding around Justin. “You look great, man,” he added, before closing the curtain.

A second later, Marvin stepped out—ready to crawl into his box. His face was that of a truly demented clown.

“I wish I had Gail’s job—she just keeps the whole thing in the Murder House and steps into it over there. Ah, and here is the lovely Janice now.”

Janice emerged. She, too, looked great for the park.

Why would she have changed her name from Francie Dumont to Janice Merkle?

While she and Justin both played zombies or members of the living dead, they worked different attractions, Janice the hayride and Justin the Haunted Cemetery.

She was creepy and still beautiful. She wasn’t wearing a mask or prosthetic, but she’d done her make-up already and was both incredibly creepy and still lovely. Her dress was white, gray, and silver, tattered and dusty, as if she had crawled from a grave. Her make-up whitened her face and accentuated the fine lines of her profile.

She smiled, showing that her lips were red and that a trickle of blood dripped from them.

“Personally, I’d rather have white matter dripping for brains,” she said.

“Know when you’re in trouble?” Gordon teased, walking over while shuffling his cards in mid-air.

“When a starving zombie looks at you—and walks right by,” he said. He sighed when his words weren’t greeted with a hearty laugh.

“Means you have no brains, even a starving zombie walks right by?”

“I got it, I got it,” Janice said with a moan. “Ha-ha. I guess I’ve been a zombie too long. Ah, well, a few more weeks and I’ll get to be a Christmas elf or maybe even Mrs. Claus.”

“You are stunning,” Keri told her, smiling. She was speaking the truth. She also wanted to get to know the woman, find out where she’d been—and why she was going under an assumed name.

“Ah, you’re a sweetie, Devilla Dolly,” Janice said. Connie emerged as Janice spoke; she was all in off white, white make up all over, a white wig, a white dress—and giant white wings.

“Someone help me with the ties?” she asked.

“You got it,” Janice assured her.

“Wow! How long does it take you to do that?” Keri asked her.

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