Fanfic-Hellview Chapter 2
Title: Hellview (Wicked Little Town)
Pairings: Multiple. Bam/Ville, Bam/Ryan, Ryan/Novak, Rake/Dico, April/Phil, Shitbirds/Hanna, Jess/Deron, Ville/Chad and about a thousand more.
Rating: R
Summary: The CKY crew is on the road to real celebrity and fame. They take a weekend trip together out in the 'ol west and stumble upon a place called Hellview that has more than a few eerie similairities with the Hellview in CKY's songs. What could have been a fun adventure turns into a series of bloody murders. Forced to suddenly confront long kept secrets and faced with death, many connections are made during their stay at Hellview. The question is - who will survive long enough to enjoy their newly found relationships in the real world?
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, never happened, never WILL happen, no money, nada. Just for fun.
Author's Notes: Okay, since my favorite lame tv show is on every Thursday, this will be posted every Thursday from now until completion. Unlike my teenage!Dugera fic, which I've decided not to post until it's completely finished, which is hopefully soonish. And, hey, hellview, I wanna see that CKY horror story you promised me! And thanks to everyone for the nice reviews! :D
Chapter One-Perceptions In A Mix
Chapter Two - Down Twenty Miles
“It’s just some boring coal town,” Frantz stated skeptically.
“I don’t give a fuck; we’re gonna go explore it!” Bam exclaimed.
“Could be cool,” Ryan admitted, looking at the buildings not too far off in the distance. It was off from the main road, but looked as if it had some unpaved streets running through the town. From where they were, it was impossible to see any kind of movement going on in the place.
“Yeah. I’m up for it,” Novak added.
“Like you had any choice, Life Partner,” Rake said with a laugh, “But I think we should go, too.”
“Oh, well, I was gonna go with you guys, but I don’t know about that if Rake is going…” Dico said, wearing a joking grin that showed all his teeth.
“Yeah. Okay, let’s get back on the bus and have him drive us there,” Phil suggested.
“Fuck that, fat boy. We’re walking!” Bam shouted, walking backwards towards Hellview with arms spread open in invitation.
“It’s hot out here, Bam,” Phil lamented.
“You could use the exercise!” Bam told him. April smiled at Phil.
“You did have five hamburgers already today,” she conceded, “I’ll go get the cooler of waters and tell Stephen that we’re going to be back in a little while.”
“Anyone else gonna try and pussy out?” Bam dared them. No one answered, but everyone started moving after him.
“You wanna leave that on the bus?” Deis asked Chad, eyeing his leather jacket.
“Nah.”
“We are in the middle of a desert, you know,” Deis said.
“Yeah?”
“Well, aren’t you hot?”
“I don’t know, you tell me,” Chad said, grinning.
“Fuck you,” Deis said with a laugh.
“Sounds like a yes to me,” Chad observed, kicking at a rock. It bounced off beneath some sage, but Chad went after it anyway, kicking it again, so that it bounced ahead of them. Deis ran up and set it scuttling away before Chad could, then stopped to grin at the other man.
“Ass,” Chad stated dryly, before jogging ahead to the rock and kicking it again. It hit the back of Deron’s calf, who whirled around to see Chad grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
“You have problems, man,” Deron told him sullenly, lifting his leg up to rub at the bit of exposed skin that the rock had hit. Chad stuck his tongue out, and then burst into laughter when Jess grabbed at Deron’s ankle and pulled it up enough so that their singer fell, back hitting the dusty sand ground.
“Can’t you walk, Deron?” Bam called over to them, as the others had turned to see what had Chad, Deis, and Jess in stitches.
“I could if your fucking faggot brother could keep his hands off me,” Deron yelled, glaring at Jess as he got to his feet.
“Fuck!” Ville suddenly exclaimed, voice embarrassingly high pitched. Bam turned to him in surprise. The singer’s eyes were wide, staring down at something.
“What?”
“What the fuck is that?” Ville questioned. Bam followed the other man’s line of sight to see a lizard sunning itself on a large rock up ahead. It blinked lazily, inky black eyes standing out against the yellow green scales running over its body.
“It’s a lizard, Willa,” he teased, looking back up at him. Ville’s eyebrows knitted together.
“Oh,” he offered lamely, still studying the creature.
“What’d you think it was?” Ryan asked from behind them.
“Uhm…a baby dragon,” Ville admitted. The others exploded into laughter and the lizard they’d been observing went scuttling away, blending in with the sand.
“We don’t have lizards in Finland,” Ville explained defensively.
“Don’t you have schools?” Raab teased, walking between Bam and Ville to see if the lizard was still there. He shook his head at the rock where it had previously been sitting.
“Hey, I’m sure I’ve had more schooling than you, Raabie,” Ville protested.
“Shit, dude, I have an American college education! You can’t beat that!”
“For some crazy reason, I bet he can,” Ryan said dryly. Bam laughed.
“Hey, you can’t laugh, mister drop out!” Raab ordered, poking a finger against Bam’s chest.
“I got my fucking GED, man,” Bam defended himself.
“Yeah, you and Chad. That doesn’t say much,” Rake laughed.
“Shut up, Penn State, you’re just pissed that you went to college when you didn’t have to,” Dico cut in.
“Fucking a-right, man. Where’s Novak? I want Life Partner to co-sign on this!” Bam exclaimed. They all looked back over their shoulders. Brandon was hanging back with Hanna and Matt Cole, the three of them passing a beer back and forth. Ape, Phil and Frantz were just behind them.
“Yo! Novak!” Bam called back.
“Life Partnerrr!” Novak responded, lifting the beer and tilting it forwards so that a few droplets sloshed out. They all laughed as Hanna snatched the drink away and Frantz yelled at him. Novak broke into a jog and caught up with them, pale cheeks flushed with the combination of alcohol, sun, and exercise.
“What’s up?” Novak asked, eyebrows raised expectantly.
“Tell Rake he’s an idiot,” Bam ordered.
“Rake, you’re an idiot,” Novak obliged. He let out a shout when Rake suddenly tackled him to the ground, pinning him down against the sand and rocks.
“Fucking ew! It’s like the worst gay porn ever!” Raab laughed. Dico, of course, was not going to let that kind of a comment just die away.
“It is!” He agreed, “I bet faggot Frantz would love to get some sweet footage of this!”
The next few minutes were spent laughing as Novak tried to get Rake off of him and Frantz filming it, Dico dictating the entire thing. When April had finally decided that enough was enough and made them let Novak up, they realized that they’d reached the place. They were standing just outside of Hellview.
“Look like you imagined?” Jess asked Deron. Deron shook his head.
“Not really. I was thinking more East Coast; trees and shit.”
It looked like a badly preserved mining town from the 20’s or 30’s. There was a main street, wide and unpaved, that had stores and bars and even a run down hotel still standing around it. Then there were smaller streets, barely big enough for a car, let alone their bus, that looked like they went to some kind of houses and apartments and trailers. Everything was a dusty tan or grey, the bold browns and blacks having peeled away a long time ago.
“Is there anyone even living here?” Deis asked, searching up and down the street for some sign of life.
“Ninety-six quite bitter beings,” Chad joked.
“Oh, dude, dude, check it out!” Bam exclaimed excitedly, jostling Frantz’s shoulder. “Get the camera rolling. That’s seriously a saloon.”
“I could go for a saloon,” Shitbirds volunteered.
“Me too,” Novak quickly agreed.
“Me three,” Hanna added.
“Four,” Phil stated.
“Five, six, seven, eight right here,” Chad chimed in, speaking for his band mates.
“Well, is there anyone who doesn’t want to go to the tavern and look into some of the clothing stores with me?” April asked wearily. As expected, the sound of silence was overwhelming. When a breeze picked up and rolled a small ball of thistle down the road, it was a little bit too perfect and they all had to laugh.
“Sorry, Ape, looks like you’re on your own,” Bam said, saluting her as he turned to walk towards the saloon. The guys fell in behind him, offering various waves good-bye to April as they went to explore.
“Oh, no, mister,” April said, snagging the sleeve of Phil’s t-shirt as he took a step forward.
“Oh, come on, April. Someone has to keep an eye on the boys.”
“Frantz is responsible. And Rake and Hanna are mature,” April assured him, taking a step or two in the other direction, towards a store with old-fashioned dresses on mannequins in the front window.
“They’re not mature,” Phil protested, trying to pull Ape with him after the boys, towards the swinging doors of the saloon.
“They’re as mature as you,” April muttered to herself, yanking hard on her husband’s shirt. He sighed and resolved himself to letting Ape pull him through aisles of dusty old clothes.
“Don’t drink everything!” Phil shouted over his shoulder, stepping up onto the sidewalk and after Ape into the store.
“Yo!” Bam called as he pushed the wooden doors of the saloon in, stepping inside. It was as dusty as the outside and looked as equally abandoned. Frantz was right behind him, camera up to his eye and footage rolling. The other guys came in after them, moving to the sides and looking curiously around.
“There’s seriously no one here,” Bam said in wonder.
“Yeah. Man, check the bottles out - I don’t think anyone has been here in a while,” Shitbirds observed, running a finger over a bottle of whiskey. When he drew back, the tip of his finger was completely covered in dust, and there was still some left on the bottle where he’d touched it.
“Jesus,” Ryan marveled, pulling an old fashioned bottle of bourbon off a shelf, “Look at this stuff! It must be at least fifty years old.”
“Doesn’t that make it, like, better and shit?” Raab asked from behind him.
“You’re the alcoholic, shouldn’t you know?” Ryan laughed.
“Hey, you’re an alcoholic, too!” Raab cried.
A few feet away, Jess was looking at the old posters on the wall. There was no light inside the saloon aside from the sun, spilling in through the windows and door and cracks in the wall. He couldn’t really see much of anything; someone had painted over most of the pictures with dark red paint.
“Hey, Der, what d’you think used to be on these posters? Naked people fucking or shit?” Jess asked. Deron walked over to look at them and laughed.
“Probably. People back then hated that shit.”
“Hey! I’m opening the bar, so make your fucking requests!” Hanna announced loudly, clambering over the wooden shelf separating the bar from the rest of the saloon. Orders were shouted and it didn’t take long for them to reach the level just beyond tipsy and just in front of drunk. Time passed quickly with alcohol and joking banter.
“Hey, hey, I say we have a drinking game!” Ville suddenly declared, slamming down a bottle of vodka on one of the round table tops near the back of the saloon.
“What’re we, fraternity brothers?” Chad scoffed, putting down his own bottle of bourbon to stare at Ville challengingly.
“Afraid of losing?” Ville taunted.
“Afraid of winning,” Chad laughed. Bam, Ryan, Raab, Jess, and Novak formed a circle around the table with Ville, leaving the rest of the guys to watch.
“Century Club?” Raab suggested.
“With vodka and whiskey and shit?” Bam asked, eyebrows raised.
“Where’s your sense of adventure, Bammie?” Ville asked, voice low and teasing. Bam just nodded and grunted.
“Alright, fine, but don’t blame me when you’re puking into the toilet,” he conceded. Hanna, the least drunk of them all, offered to play timekeeper.
“One minute,” Hanna announced, squinting down at his watch. The guys all took a shot of their drink of preference in dusty glasses they’d found in an open cupboard. Chad shook his head, downing at least two shots of his own bourbon. He felt a playful nudge at his shoulder.
“You aren’t playing,” Deron reminded him.
“Thank Jesus Allin Christ for that,” Chad said sagely, tipping the bottle back and drinking a bit more to top the shots off.
“He’ll regret it later,” Deis said, sipping on whiskey and pulling a face. Deron laughed.
“If he remembers to,” Deron declared.
“Fuck you, I’ll remember,” Chad challenged. Deron and Deis exchanged grins.
“Bet?” Deis offered. It was a pretty common thing among them. They bet on the stupidest fucking things ever, but never for all that much money. The best bets were the ones that revolved around winning something other than money from your band mate.
“Shit yeah, I’ll fucking bet you, kid” Chad accepted, words already beginning to slur together in a sloppy mess.
“Two minutes!” Hanna announced from behind them. Six arms raised glasses to lips, and the boys at the table downed their drink, smiling challengingly at their opponents.
“If I win, I get your bunk, and Deron gets fifteen bucks,” Deis said. He didn’t notice Deron’s disapproving glare. Chad considered this.
“If you win, Deron gets my bunk, and you get fifteen bucks. If I win, then I get…your…toothbrush.”
“Deal,” Deis agreed, giving the other man a strange look. Deron leaned back and let out an appreciative howl of laughter. Deis turned in his seat so he was nearly eye level with the singer. When Deron noticed Deis staring, Hanna had just called ‘Four minutes’.
“What?” He asked.
“For an old man, you suck at holding your liquor,” Deis informed him. There was a wicked cackle from Chad at this comment, and Jess spit out half his drink over Raab when he heard it. This only served to produce more laughter, from nearly everyone in the saloon.
“I’m not old!” Deron protested, “Chad could be your fucking grandpa.” At this, Chad threw his bottle to the ground, where it shattered, glass shards going everywhere and the little bit of alcohol left in it pooling together in a small puddle. The rest of the guys protested this with angry shouts and disparaging comments, though no one moved forward to clean up the mess. Deron glanced over at the guitarist, a bit surprised, but didn’t recognize any kind of malevolence on Chad’s face - it was just the standard drunken grin.
“I’ll kick your ass, sonny,” Chad joked.
“Hey!” Bam interrupted, pushing himself away from the table they’d been playing at, “Where’s Ape and Phil at?” There was a chorus of curses from everyone else as they realized that they weren’t a complete group anymore. The expletives grew when Hanna announced that they’d been in the saloon for over two hours.
“Fuck, man, d’you think they went back to the bus?” Raab asked, looking out one of the front windows. There was no glass, but the haggard remains of some cloth blinds still clung to the far corners of the window frame. The sun had just started its descent, and the sky was a mess of bloody red clouds and darkening sky.
“Probably,” Rake muttered, busily restocking the bar with the now empty bottles and used glasses. Bam fished around in his pockets and came up with two 50’s, which he slammed down on top of the old fashioned register. No one had managed to decide if anyone lived in the town or not, but it only seemed right to leave some money for whatever ghosts were left in Hellview.
“If they left us here, I’m gonna fucking kick Phil’s ass,” Bam threatened. He stormed out of the saloon and inspected the horizon carefully. The dark outline of their bus was easy enough to pick out in the barren desert, with only part of a tall, thriving cactus plant in between them and their projected path back to the vehicle.
“So I guess we’re going back to the bus?” Bam heard Ville’s deep voice ask from close behind him. He turned to look at his friend, who barely looked effected by the alcohol, and a small grin managed to twist his lips upward.
“Yeah, and then I’m gonna yell at Ape.”
The boys trudged back across the desert, accidentally forming a line as they walked two by two behind one another. The front of the line was considerably more wobbly, due to the fact it was led by Raab and Ryan. They snaked their way towards the bus, singing and shouting loudly and enjoying the lack of people around.
“Ape! Phil! You guys suck!” Bam exclaimed, shooting forward past Raab and Ryan, taking the first step up onto the bus. Raab cackled and tried to follow Bam onto the bus, but the skater was still poised on the first step. Raab nudged his back.
“Yo, dude, move it,” Raab ordered. When Bam didn’t, it still didn’t occur to him that anything was wrong.
“Hey, pussy, go,” Ryan said sternly, pushing Bam hard enough so that he fell forward. There were two simultaneous exclamations of disgust. Ryan and Raab gawked at the driver’s seat of the bus - it was coated in blood and what looked to be chunks of flesh and organs.
“Holy shit, is that real?” Ryan squeaked.
“I’m gonna…” Raab trailed off, and then stumbled away from the bus to puke.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Rake asked, brushing past Ryan to see what made Raab hurl. The guy had been drinking like an expert since he was sixteen and wasn’t the type who vomited on cue like Bam or Steve-O. He usually had a pretty good tolerance for alcohol. Then Rake saw the mess, too, and stepped away screaming obscenities.
“Bam, c’mon,” Ryan muttered, pulling Bam’s shoulder to make him get away from the carnage of whatever it was. He had a few theories, and the best one involved Ashton Kutcher and cameras. Ryan was praying that it was some elaborate prank and not what it actually looked like. Bam turned away and stepped, dazed, off the bus to see many curious eyes regarding him.
“Someone attacked Stephen,” Ryan told them because Bam couldn’t.
“The bus driver?” Hanna asked in surprise.
“Dude, is he okay?” Shitbirds asked, craning his neck around to try and see onto the bus.
“Uh…I kind of…doubt it. But he’s not there, anyway, which is weird because with that much blood loss…”
At that, everyone else’s overwhelming sense of curiosity got the best of them and they rushed to get on the bus to see all the blood. As Ryan expected, there were curses and gasps, and about half of the guys turned away, stepping back. He watched Deron disappear completely up the stairs and somehow wasn’t that surprised.
“Oh my god. Holy shit. I think this is seriously part of his brain,” Deron exclaimed, and there were more curses and soon it was just Deron left examining the bloody mess. Generally, the sticky tongue of too much alcohol downed and wavering steps lasted longer, but they all found themselves sobering up unnaturally fast.
“Dude, where the fuck are our parents?” Jess asked Bam. They stared at each other, both trying not to think of April and Phil in any kind of situation like Stephen’s.
“Who the fuck would even have done this? There’s no one out here,” Deis commented, peering up and down the stretch of abandoned road. He didn’t recall seeing anymore vehicles other than theirs from the time they first pulled over to the shoulder. It was just sand and desert plants. Frantz nervously stepped onto the bus again, but kept his eyes averted from the blood on the seat and side window. He stole a glance at the ignition and felt his stomach clench as he realized that there was no key in it.
“Guys? There’s no key in the ignition,” he announced, but this time everyone was too distracted to swear.
“We have to go back to see if Phil and Ape are still wandering around the town,” Bam notified Ryan, Jess standing right beside him. Ryan nodded and watched the two brothers take off at a run towards Hellview.
“I think there’s an extra set in the back,” Hanna ventured, stepping onto the bus behind Frantz, “I’ll check with you.” Deron watched the two of them walk slowly towards the rear of the vehicle, and couldn’t help but notice another splash of blood hidden on the dark fabric of the front seats. He moved towards it, studying the liquid, when he realized that Stephen must have tried to escape by going further into the bus.
“Holy shit!” Deron heard the other two men scream, and winced at the mental images conjured up by such exclamations. They went bolting past him, color completely drained from their faces.
“What?” Dico asked as they came outside, panting and panicked. He’d been keeping unnaturally quiet, observing the rest of them with a tight lipped smile that revealed nothing about his feelings on the matter at hand.
“We found Stephen,” Frantz explained, looking sick. The others formed a small circle around them, including Deron, who now had a bit of blood smeared across his right index finger.
“Is he…?” Ville ventured.
“Dead? Yeah, he’s pretty fucking dead, alright. Jesus. Don’t go fucking look at it, it’s…holy fuck. It’s not even that graphic on T.V.,” Frantz rambled. They all looked appropriately squeamish.
“Dude, someone call fucking 911,” Deis said, pulling his own cell phone out. The others followed suit, and after a few minutes of trying, realized that their North Atlantic cell phone service didn’t quite work out in the middle of Arizona. Deron and Raab both got a small signal, but the call would fail before the phone even rang three times.
“Who the fuck would do this? I mean, some random guy driving down Route 66 doesn’t just pull over and kill random bus drivers just for fun,” Chad raged.
“Do you think it could be someone from, y’know, Hellview?” Ville asked, looking over his shoulder at the ghost town.
“We were there. It was totally deserted, and we would have seen them,” Hanna asserted.
“Besides, that’d just be...” Deron trailed off.
“Too fucking weird?” Chad finished for him. The singer nodded mutely. They all contemplated the idea, that someone in Hellview had brutally killed their bus driver, but it seemed too ironic on about five thousand levels.
“Shit. Did you see the keys?” Deis asked after a moment of silence.
“They weren’t on the hook,” Hanna told him.
“We’re not seriously stranded here, are we?” Novak asked hoarsely. There were more than a few bitter laughs. No one answered him, but they instead watched as the sun began its last few glorious minutes in the sky. It would have been a beautiful thing to watch any other day, but right then, the red was overpowering and frightening.
“We need flashlights,” Rake suggested.
“In the back,” Frantz said with a dry laugh, “You can go get ‘em.” Rake looked properly horrified. He hadn’t seen the body and he didn’t really want to; he’d barely been able to stand all the blood.
“I’ll fucking get them,” Chad declared. There was a pause in which he hoped, maybe even expected, to hear a ‘me too’, but none came, so he strode towards the bus by himself. He took the steps two at a time and was again next to the scene of the attack. Chad steeled himself for whatever was in the other room, but when a thin hand appeared on his shoulder, he almost lost it.
“Jesus,” Chad spat, spinning around to see Ville behind him.
“Sorry. I thought I’d help carry some,” Ville offered. Chad nodded and turned back around, taking a silent, deep breath of air. He thought he could hear Ville do the same. They tiptoed towards the back, keeping their eyes focused ahead intently on the small box near the furthest wall that had all emergency supplies in it. When they passed the barrier separating front from back, Chad could sense the death and mutilation around him, but refused to let himself look. Ville couldn’t say the same. The grotesque image of a twisted, mangled bloody body with open eyes was all he could see, despite trying to look away.
Ville muttered darkly to himself in Finnish. Chad dropped to his knees and pulled the lid off the box and began to pull flashlights and batteries out, but then thought better of it and put everything back and just decided to take the whole box. Chad grunted, lifting it into his arms and pushing himself back up. Then he turned and couldn’t avoid the bloodbath in front of him and dropped the box with a loud crash. Ville screamed.
Behind Stephen’s head, of which only half remained and only a fourth was identifiable through the lacerations and bruising, there was writing on the wall in dried blood. It was a dark red brown that made Chad want to puke all over their supplies. He reread the words over and over, stomach clenching tighter each time. He wasn’t sure if it was a reference to them or a challenge, but the blood letters spelled, in a neat cursive, ‘Escape From Hellview’.
Pairings: Multiple. Bam/Ville, Bam/Ryan, Ryan/Novak, Rake/Dico, April/Phil, Shitbirds/Hanna, Jess/Deron, Ville/Chad and about a thousand more.
Rating: R
Summary: The CKY crew is on the road to real celebrity and fame. They take a weekend trip together out in the 'ol west and stumble upon a place called Hellview that has more than a few eerie similairities with the Hellview in CKY's songs. What could have been a fun adventure turns into a series of bloody murders. Forced to suddenly confront long kept secrets and faced with death, many connections are made during their stay at Hellview. The question is - who will survive long enough to enjoy their newly found relationships in the real world?
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, never happened, never WILL happen, no money, nada. Just for fun.
Author's Notes: Okay, since my favorite lame tv show is on every Thursday, this will be posted every Thursday from now until completion. Unlike my teenage!Dugera fic, which I've decided not to post until it's completely finished, which is hopefully soonish. And, hey, hellview, I wanna see that CKY horror story you promised me! And thanks to everyone for the nice reviews! :D
Chapter One-Perceptions In A Mix
Chapter Two - Down Twenty Miles
“It’s just some boring coal town,” Frantz stated skeptically.
“I don’t give a fuck; we’re gonna go explore it!” Bam exclaimed.
“Could be cool,” Ryan admitted, looking at the buildings not too far off in the distance. It was off from the main road, but looked as if it had some unpaved streets running through the town. From where they were, it was impossible to see any kind of movement going on in the place.
“Yeah. I’m up for it,” Novak added.
“Like you had any choice, Life Partner,” Rake said with a laugh, “But I think we should go, too.”
“Oh, well, I was gonna go with you guys, but I don’t know about that if Rake is going…” Dico said, wearing a joking grin that showed all his teeth.
“Yeah. Okay, let’s get back on the bus and have him drive us there,” Phil suggested.
“Fuck that, fat boy. We’re walking!” Bam shouted, walking backwards towards Hellview with arms spread open in invitation.
“It’s hot out here, Bam,” Phil lamented.
“You could use the exercise!” Bam told him. April smiled at Phil.
“You did have five hamburgers already today,” she conceded, “I’ll go get the cooler of waters and tell Stephen that we’re going to be back in a little while.”
“Anyone else gonna try and pussy out?” Bam dared them. No one answered, but everyone started moving after him.
“You wanna leave that on the bus?” Deis asked Chad, eyeing his leather jacket.
“Nah.”
“We are in the middle of a desert, you know,” Deis said.
“Yeah?”
“Well, aren’t you hot?”
“I don’t know, you tell me,” Chad said, grinning.
“Fuck you,” Deis said with a laugh.
“Sounds like a yes to me,” Chad observed, kicking at a rock. It bounced off beneath some sage, but Chad went after it anyway, kicking it again, so that it bounced ahead of them. Deis ran up and set it scuttling away before Chad could, then stopped to grin at the other man.
“Ass,” Chad stated dryly, before jogging ahead to the rock and kicking it again. It hit the back of Deron’s calf, who whirled around to see Chad grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
“You have problems, man,” Deron told him sullenly, lifting his leg up to rub at the bit of exposed skin that the rock had hit. Chad stuck his tongue out, and then burst into laughter when Jess grabbed at Deron’s ankle and pulled it up enough so that their singer fell, back hitting the dusty sand ground.
“Can’t you walk, Deron?” Bam called over to them, as the others had turned to see what had Chad, Deis, and Jess in stitches.
“I could if your fucking faggot brother could keep his hands off me,” Deron yelled, glaring at Jess as he got to his feet.
“Fuck!” Ville suddenly exclaimed, voice embarrassingly high pitched. Bam turned to him in surprise. The singer’s eyes were wide, staring down at something.
“What?”
“What the fuck is that?” Ville questioned. Bam followed the other man’s line of sight to see a lizard sunning itself on a large rock up ahead. It blinked lazily, inky black eyes standing out against the yellow green scales running over its body.
“It’s a lizard, Willa,” he teased, looking back up at him. Ville’s eyebrows knitted together.
“Oh,” he offered lamely, still studying the creature.
“What’d you think it was?” Ryan asked from behind them.
“Uhm…a baby dragon,” Ville admitted. The others exploded into laughter and the lizard they’d been observing went scuttling away, blending in with the sand.
“We don’t have lizards in Finland,” Ville explained defensively.
“Don’t you have schools?” Raab teased, walking between Bam and Ville to see if the lizard was still there. He shook his head at the rock where it had previously been sitting.
“Hey, I’m sure I’ve had more schooling than you, Raabie,” Ville protested.
“Shit, dude, I have an American college education! You can’t beat that!”
“For some crazy reason, I bet he can,” Ryan said dryly. Bam laughed.
“Hey, you can’t laugh, mister drop out!” Raab ordered, poking a finger against Bam’s chest.
“I got my fucking GED, man,” Bam defended himself.
“Yeah, you and Chad. That doesn’t say much,” Rake laughed.
“Shut up, Penn State, you’re just pissed that you went to college when you didn’t have to,” Dico cut in.
“Fucking a-right, man. Where’s Novak? I want Life Partner to co-sign on this!” Bam exclaimed. They all looked back over their shoulders. Brandon was hanging back with Hanna and Matt Cole, the three of them passing a beer back and forth. Ape, Phil and Frantz were just behind them.
“Yo! Novak!” Bam called back.
“Life Partnerrr!” Novak responded, lifting the beer and tilting it forwards so that a few droplets sloshed out. They all laughed as Hanna snatched the drink away and Frantz yelled at him. Novak broke into a jog and caught up with them, pale cheeks flushed with the combination of alcohol, sun, and exercise.
“What’s up?” Novak asked, eyebrows raised expectantly.
“Tell Rake he’s an idiot,” Bam ordered.
“Rake, you’re an idiot,” Novak obliged. He let out a shout when Rake suddenly tackled him to the ground, pinning him down against the sand and rocks.
“Fucking ew! It’s like the worst gay porn ever!” Raab laughed. Dico, of course, was not going to let that kind of a comment just die away.
“It is!” He agreed, “I bet faggot Frantz would love to get some sweet footage of this!”
The next few minutes were spent laughing as Novak tried to get Rake off of him and Frantz filming it, Dico dictating the entire thing. When April had finally decided that enough was enough and made them let Novak up, they realized that they’d reached the place. They were standing just outside of Hellview.
“Look like you imagined?” Jess asked Deron. Deron shook his head.
“Not really. I was thinking more East Coast; trees and shit.”
It looked like a badly preserved mining town from the 20’s or 30’s. There was a main street, wide and unpaved, that had stores and bars and even a run down hotel still standing around it. Then there were smaller streets, barely big enough for a car, let alone their bus, that looked like they went to some kind of houses and apartments and trailers. Everything was a dusty tan or grey, the bold browns and blacks having peeled away a long time ago.
“Is there anyone even living here?” Deis asked, searching up and down the street for some sign of life.
“Ninety-six quite bitter beings,” Chad joked.
“Oh, dude, dude, check it out!” Bam exclaimed excitedly, jostling Frantz’s shoulder. “Get the camera rolling. That’s seriously a saloon.”
“I could go for a saloon,” Shitbirds volunteered.
“Me too,” Novak quickly agreed.
“Me three,” Hanna added.
“Four,” Phil stated.
“Five, six, seven, eight right here,” Chad chimed in, speaking for his band mates.
“Well, is there anyone who doesn’t want to go to the tavern and look into some of the clothing stores with me?” April asked wearily. As expected, the sound of silence was overwhelming. When a breeze picked up and rolled a small ball of thistle down the road, it was a little bit too perfect and they all had to laugh.
“Sorry, Ape, looks like you’re on your own,” Bam said, saluting her as he turned to walk towards the saloon. The guys fell in behind him, offering various waves good-bye to April as they went to explore.
“Oh, no, mister,” April said, snagging the sleeve of Phil’s t-shirt as he took a step forward.
“Oh, come on, April. Someone has to keep an eye on the boys.”
“Frantz is responsible. And Rake and Hanna are mature,” April assured him, taking a step or two in the other direction, towards a store with old-fashioned dresses on mannequins in the front window.
“They’re not mature,” Phil protested, trying to pull Ape with him after the boys, towards the swinging doors of the saloon.
“They’re as mature as you,” April muttered to herself, yanking hard on her husband’s shirt. He sighed and resolved himself to letting Ape pull him through aisles of dusty old clothes.
“Don’t drink everything!” Phil shouted over his shoulder, stepping up onto the sidewalk and after Ape into the store.
“Yo!” Bam called as he pushed the wooden doors of the saloon in, stepping inside. It was as dusty as the outside and looked as equally abandoned. Frantz was right behind him, camera up to his eye and footage rolling. The other guys came in after them, moving to the sides and looking curiously around.
“There’s seriously no one here,” Bam said in wonder.
“Yeah. Man, check the bottles out - I don’t think anyone has been here in a while,” Shitbirds observed, running a finger over a bottle of whiskey. When he drew back, the tip of his finger was completely covered in dust, and there was still some left on the bottle where he’d touched it.
“Jesus,” Ryan marveled, pulling an old fashioned bottle of bourbon off a shelf, “Look at this stuff! It must be at least fifty years old.”
“Doesn’t that make it, like, better and shit?” Raab asked from behind him.
“You’re the alcoholic, shouldn’t you know?” Ryan laughed.
“Hey, you’re an alcoholic, too!” Raab cried.
A few feet away, Jess was looking at the old posters on the wall. There was no light inside the saloon aside from the sun, spilling in through the windows and door and cracks in the wall. He couldn’t really see much of anything; someone had painted over most of the pictures with dark red paint.
“Hey, Der, what d’you think used to be on these posters? Naked people fucking or shit?” Jess asked. Deron walked over to look at them and laughed.
“Probably. People back then hated that shit.”
“Hey! I’m opening the bar, so make your fucking requests!” Hanna announced loudly, clambering over the wooden shelf separating the bar from the rest of the saloon. Orders were shouted and it didn’t take long for them to reach the level just beyond tipsy and just in front of drunk. Time passed quickly with alcohol and joking banter.
“Hey, hey, I say we have a drinking game!” Ville suddenly declared, slamming down a bottle of vodka on one of the round table tops near the back of the saloon.
“What’re we, fraternity brothers?” Chad scoffed, putting down his own bottle of bourbon to stare at Ville challengingly.
“Afraid of losing?” Ville taunted.
“Afraid of winning,” Chad laughed. Bam, Ryan, Raab, Jess, and Novak formed a circle around the table with Ville, leaving the rest of the guys to watch.
“Century Club?” Raab suggested.
“With vodka and whiskey and shit?” Bam asked, eyebrows raised.
“Where’s your sense of adventure, Bammie?” Ville asked, voice low and teasing. Bam just nodded and grunted.
“Alright, fine, but don’t blame me when you’re puking into the toilet,” he conceded. Hanna, the least drunk of them all, offered to play timekeeper.
“One minute,” Hanna announced, squinting down at his watch. The guys all took a shot of their drink of preference in dusty glasses they’d found in an open cupboard. Chad shook his head, downing at least two shots of his own bourbon. He felt a playful nudge at his shoulder.
“You aren’t playing,” Deron reminded him.
“Thank Jesus Allin Christ for that,” Chad said sagely, tipping the bottle back and drinking a bit more to top the shots off.
“He’ll regret it later,” Deis said, sipping on whiskey and pulling a face. Deron laughed.
“If he remembers to,” Deron declared.
“Fuck you, I’ll remember,” Chad challenged. Deron and Deis exchanged grins.
“Bet?” Deis offered. It was a pretty common thing among them. They bet on the stupidest fucking things ever, but never for all that much money. The best bets were the ones that revolved around winning something other than money from your band mate.
“Shit yeah, I’ll fucking bet you, kid” Chad accepted, words already beginning to slur together in a sloppy mess.
“Two minutes!” Hanna announced from behind them. Six arms raised glasses to lips, and the boys at the table downed their drink, smiling challengingly at their opponents.
“If I win, I get your bunk, and Deron gets fifteen bucks,” Deis said. He didn’t notice Deron’s disapproving glare. Chad considered this.
“If you win, Deron gets my bunk, and you get fifteen bucks. If I win, then I get…your…toothbrush.”
“Deal,” Deis agreed, giving the other man a strange look. Deron leaned back and let out an appreciative howl of laughter. Deis turned in his seat so he was nearly eye level with the singer. When Deron noticed Deis staring, Hanna had just called ‘Four minutes’.
“What?” He asked.
“For an old man, you suck at holding your liquor,” Deis informed him. There was a wicked cackle from Chad at this comment, and Jess spit out half his drink over Raab when he heard it. This only served to produce more laughter, from nearly everyone in the saloon.
“I’m not old!” Deron protested, “Chad could be your fucking grandpa.” At this, Chad threw his bottle to the ground, where it shattered, glass shards going everywhere and the little bit of alcohol left in it pooling together in a small puddle. The rest of the guys protested this with angry shouts and disparaging comments, though no one moved forward to clean up the mess. Deron glanced over at the guitarist, a bit surprised, but didn’t recognize any kind of malevolence on Chad’s face - it was just the standard drunken grin.
“I’ll kick your ass, sonny,” Chad joked.
“Hey!” Bam interrupted, pushing himself away from the table they’d been playing at, “Where’s Ape and Phil at?” There was a chorus of curses from everyone else as they realized that they weren’t a complete group anymore. The expletives grew when Hanna announced that they’d been in the saloon for over two hours.
“Fuck, man, d’you think they went back to the bus?” Raab asked, looking out one of the front windows. There was no glass, but the haggard remains of some cloth blinds still clung to the far corners of the window frame. The sun had just started its descent, and the sky was a mess of bloody red clouds and darkening sky.
“Probably,” Rake muttered, busily restocking the bar with the now empty bottles and used glasses. Bam fished around in his pockets and came up with two 50’s, which he slammed down on top of the old fashioned register. No one had managed to decide if anyone lived in the town or not, but it only seemed right to leave some money for whatever ghosts were left in Hellview.
“If they left us here, I’m gonna fucking kick Phil’s ass,” Bam threatened. He stormed out of the saloon and inspected the horizon carefully. The dark outline of their bus was easy enough to pick out in the barren desert, with only part of a tall, thriving cactus plant in between them and their projected path back to the vehicle.
“So I guess we’re going back to the bus?” Bam heard Ville’s deep voice ask from close behind him. He turned to look at his friend, who barely looked effected by the alcohol, and a small grin managed to twist his lips upward.
“Yeah, and then I’m gonna yell at Ape.”
The boys trudged back across the desert, accidentally forming a line as they walked two by two behind one another. The front of the line was considerably more wobbly, due to the fact it was led by Raab and Ryan. They snaked their way towards the bus, singing and shouting loudly and enjoying the lack of people around.
“Ape! Phil! You guys suck!” Bam exclaimed, shooting forward past Raab and Ryan, taking the first step up onto the bus. Raab cackled and tried to follow Bam onto the bus, but the skater was still poised on the first step. Raab nudged his back.
“Yo, dude, move it,” Raab ordered. When Bam didn’t, it still didn’t occur to him that anything was wrong.
“Hey, pussy, go,” Ryan said sternly, pushing Bam hard enough so that he fell forward. There were two simultaneous exclamations of disgust. Ryan and Raab gawked at the driver’s seat of the bus - it was coated in blood and what looked to be chunks of flesh and organs.
“Holy shit, is that real?” Ryan squeaked.
“I’m gonna…” Raab trailed off, and then stumbled away from the bus to puke.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Rake asked, brushing past Ryan to see what made Raab hurl. The guy had been drinking like an expert since he was sixteen and wasn’t the type who vomited on cue like Bam or Steve-O. He usually had a pretty good tolerance for alcohol. Then Rake saw the mess, too, and stepped away screaming obscenities.
“Bam, c’mon,” Ryan muttered, pulling Bam’s shoulder to make him get away from the carnage of whatever it was. He had a few theories, and the best one involved Ashton Kutcher and cameras. Ryan was praying that it was some elaborate prank and not what it actually looked like. Bam turned away and stepped, dazed, off the bus to see many curious eyes regarding him.
“Someone attacked Stephen,” Ryan told them because Bam couldn’t.
“The bus driver?” Hanna asked in surprise.
“Dude, is he okay?” Shitbirds asked, craning his neck around to try and see onto the bus.
“Uh…I kind of…doubt it. But he’s not there, anyway, which is weird because with that much blood loss…”
At that, everyone else’s overwhelming sense of curiosity got the best of them and they rushed to get on the bus to see all the blood. As Ryan expected, there were curses and gasps, and about half of the guys turned away, stepping back. He watched Deron disappear completely up the stairs and somehow wasn’t that surprised.
“Oh my god. Holy shit. I think this is seriously part of his brain,” Deron exclaimed, and there were more curses and soon it was just Deron left examining the bloody mess. Generally, the sticky tongue of too much alcohol downed and wavering steps lasted longer, but they all found themselves sobering up unnaturally fast.
“Dude, where the fuck are our parents?” Jess asked Bam. They stared at each other, both trying not to think of April and Phil in any kind of situation like Stephen’s.
“Who the fuck would even have done this? There’s no one out here,” Deis commented, peering up and down the stretch of abandoned road. He didn’t recall seeing anymore vehicles other than theirs from the time they first pulled over to the shoulder. It was just sand and desert plants. Frantz nervously stepped onto the bus again, but kept his eyes averted from the blood on the seat and side window. He stole a glance at the ignition and felt his stomach clench as he realized that there was no key in it.
“Guys? There’s no key in the ignition,” he announced, but this time everyone was too distracted to swear.
“We have to go back to see if Phil and Ape are still wandering around the town,” Bam notified Ryan, Jess standing right beside him. Ryan nodded and watched the two brothers take off at a run towards Hellview.
“I think there’s an extra set in the back,” Hanna ventured, stepping onto the bus behind Frantz, “I’ll check with you.” Deron watched the two of them walk slowly towards the rear of the vehicle, and couldn’t help but notice another splash of blood hidden on the dark fabric of the front seats. He moved towards it, studying the liquid, when he realized that Stephen must have tried to escape by going further into the bus.
“Holy shit!” Deron heard the other two men scream, and winced at the mental images conjured up by such exclamations. They went bolting past him, color completely drained from their faces.
“What?” Dico asked as they came outside, panting and panicked. He’d been keeping unnaturally quiet, observing the rest of them with a tight lipped smile that revealed nothing about his feelings on the matter at hand.
“We found Stephen,” Frantz explained, looking sick. The others formed a small circle around them, including Deron, who now had a bit of blood smeared across his right index finger.
“Is he…?” Ville ventured.
“Dead? Yeah, he’s pretty fucking dead, alright. Jesus. Don’t go fucking look at it, it’s…holy fuck. It’s not even that graphic on T.V.,” Frantz rambled. They all looked appropriately squeamish.
“Dude, someone call fucking 911,” Deis said, pulling his own cell phone out. The others followed suit, and after a few minutes of trying, realized that their North Atlantic cell phone service didn’t quite work out in the middle of Arizona. Deron and Raab both got a small signal, but the call would fail before the phone even rang three times.
“Who the fuck would do this? I mean, some random guy driving down Route 66 doesn’t just pull over and kill random bus drivers just for fun,” Chad raged.
“Do you think it could be someone from, y’know, Hellview?” Ville asked, looking over his shoulder at the ghost town.
“We were there. It was totally deserted, and we would have seen them,” Hanna asserted.
“Besides, that’d just be...” Deron trailed off.
“Too fucking weird?” Chad finished for him. The singer nodded mutely. They all contemplated the idea, that someone in Hellview had brutally killed their bus driver, but it seemed too ironic on about five thousand levels.
“Shit. Did you see the keys?” Deis asked after a moment of silence.
“They weren’t on the hook,” Hanna told him.
“We’re not seriously stranded here, are we?” Novak asked hoarsely. There were more than a few bitter laughs. No one answered him, but they instead watched as the sun began its last few glorious minutes in the sky. It would have been a beautiful thing to watch any other day, but right then, the red was overpowering and frightening.
“We need flashlights,” Rake suggested.
“In the back,” Frantz said with a dry laugh, “You can go get ‘em.” Rake looked properly horrified. He hadn’t seen the body and he didn’t really want to; he’d barely been able to stand all the blood.
“I’ll fucking get them,” Chad declared. There was a pause in which he hoped, maybe even expected, to hear a ‘me too’, but none came, so he strode towards the bus by himself. He took the steps two at a time and was again next to the scene of the attack. Chad steeled himself for whatever was in the other room, but when a thin hand appeared on his shoulder, he almost lost it.
“Jesus,” Chad spat, spinning around to see Ville behind him.
“Sorry. I thought I’d help carry some,” Ville offered. Chad nodded and turned back around, taking a silent, deep breath of air. He thought he could hear Ville do the same. They tiptoed towards the back, keeping their eyes focused ahead intently on the small box near the furthest wall that had all emergency supplies in it. When they passed the barrier separating front from back, Chad could sense the death and mutilation around him, but refused to let himself look. Ville couldn’t say the same. The grotesque image of a twisted, mangled bloody body with open eyes was all he could see, despite trying to look away.
Ville muttered darkly to himself in Finnish. Chad dropped to his knees and pulled the lid off the box and began to pull flashlights and batteries out, but then thought better of it and put everything back and just decided to take the whole box. Chad grunted, lifting it into his arms and pushing himself back up. Then he turned and couldn’t avoid the bloodbath in front of him and dropped the box with a loud crash. Ville screamed.
Behind Stephen’s head, of which only half remained and only a fourth was identifiable through the lacerations and bruising, there was writing on the wall in dried blood. It was a dark red brown that made Chad want to puke all over their supplies. He reread the words over and over, stomach clenching tighter each time. He wasn’t sure if it was a reference to them or a challenge, but the blood letters spelled, in a neat cursive, ‘Escape From Hellview’.