Max is your typical 16-year-old kid trying to navigate his way through yet another high school, in 1962. Unable to avoid the bullies that love to torment everyone in their sight, Max plays along. But when they demand he go into the abandoned Starke house at midnight, on the anniversary of the serial killer's execution, Max is not overly anxious to comply. For it is said Starke reappears at the scene of the crime, back to where he buried all those boys in his basement. Given the task of returning with a chip of blood from the basement door, Max heads into the house, determined to make fools out of every one of them. For only a fool would believe in such nonsense…right?
Excerpt
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Chapter One
Fairfield, California, 1962
“Did I say you could walk here?”
Max stopped short, as someone reached a leg out and rested their boot on the seat of the desk across the aisle, blocking the way. “Didn’t realize I needed to ask permission.”
“What did you say to me?” The boy took his foot from the desk and placed it in the middle of the aisle. Standing, he was mere inches from Max.
Max shook his head. “Look, whatever you’re going to do just do it now and get it over with, so I can get to my seat.”
The boy pulled himself up to the full six feet of his stature, where he stood eye to eye with Max. “What are you, thick or something? Do you know who you’re talking to?”
Max met the boy’s gaze, the only thing blacker than the boy’s eyes being the black hair now falling into them. “No. But I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
The dark-haired boy smirked and swatted a blond-haired boy, sitting on the top of a desk, with the back of his hand. The smile fell from the dark-haired boy’s face, and he pressed his fingertips upon Max’s chest. “I’ll tell you who.”
He gave Max a shove. There was something behind Max and he fell, his books flying out onto the tile floor with a loud smack.
All eyes in the classroom turned upon Max; conversations now replaced with titters and guffaws.
The dark-haired boy kneeled next to him. Leaning over Max, he poked a finger into Max’s chest. “Jimmy Davidson. That’s who. And don’t you forget it.”
Once more, Max met his gaze. “No worries. I won’t.”
Jimmy chuckled to himself, and slapping Max lightly on the face, he then offered him his hand.
Max eyed Jimmy’s hand. “You don’t actually expect me to take that, do you?”
“What? You don’t trust me?” Jimmy’s expression took on an exaggerated pout. “I think I’m hurt.” The surrounding four boys laughed, as they gathered around Max. “You’re going to have to start trusting me some time. It may as well be now.”
Max sat forward and collected his books. “Must it be?” Again they all laughed.
“You know what? I think I’m beginning to like this guy.” He swatted Max on the chest with the back of his hand, much as he had the boy on the desk a moment earlier. “Tell you what, considering you’ve been such a good sport about this whole thing, I’m going to give you a second chance.”
“Lucky me.”
A grin spread across Jimmy’s face, and he stood. “This guy cracks me up.”
“Nice to know you consider me good for something.”
Jimmy nodded. “Not bad, for your first day…?”
“Max Jensen.” Max climbed to his feet.
“Well, Max Jensen, if you want to make it up to me, meet me out back of the gym after school.”
“Make it…Make what up to you? What is it I am supposed to have done, other than let you make a fool of me?”
“I can’t have anyone disrespecting me. You know how it is.”
“Yeah, I do, as a matter of fact.” Max brushed his hand over his pant leg.
“Good. As long as we understand each other.”
“More than you know.”
“All right class; take your seats.” A tall, skinny woman in her forties came swooshing into the room in a flurry of skirts and waving arms. “For those of you who don’t know me, I am Miss Johnson, and I’ll be your math teacher this year. Now sit please. I’m sure you’re all anxious to begin.”
A sea of eyebrows rose on blank faces, as everyone took their seats. Max grinned. He actually liked math, unlike everyone else present—judging from the expression on their faces. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t help but think of what was to happen after school behind the gym.
He hoped when he became sixteen, and moved to a new district, he’d get a chance to start anew. But Fairfield was like all the others, the same people always coming together at every school, the jocks strutting up and down the halls, the pretty girls with their noses in the air, the eggheads, and the rebels. Thinking about it made his head ache. But who was he kidding? It was like this everywhere. What made him think it would be any different here?
That was why he singled out the cool kids and headed straight for them. He knew they’d be coming for him, being the new kid in town, and he wanted to save himself the wondering and waiting of when and where it would happen. Dive in with both feet and get it over with, he’d always say.
But it wasn’t over, and now the gang leader, Jimmy Davidson, was telling him to meet out back of the gym. If he didn’t show up, he knew it would only make it worse for him the next day at school. Once whatever would happen was over with, maybe things would settle down, and he could get on with his life of being the odd kid out.
He honestly thought he was used to it, but the truth was he never would be. He could only hope this time his dad would be able to keep his job, and they wouldn’t have to move one more time.
Happy Halloween. A volume of Horrible Haunts & Twisted Tales taken from the horror books La Belle Rouge has written every October for a decade and a half. If you have read her works in the horror genre, you know the invitation is for you to enjoy thr
