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The Alaska Hut, the Alaska Hut... Help would be there, all she had to do was reach it...
It might be summer, but the snow was still thick on the ground on the rise. She was slogging through it, sinking and falling and trying to right herself. She staggered and fell—thinking of the times she had mocked horror movies, those that featured victims who seemed to trip over their own feet.
And then, over another rise, she saw it. The Alaska Hut.
Help! Help would be there.
Producer, director, fellow actors, makeup artists, costumers and...security! All she had to do was reach it.
But...was anyone left alive? She hadn’t waited long enough at the Mansion to find out, not after she’d seen what she’d seen and heard movement upstairs and then...
Coming down the steps.
She’d run.
She should have stayed to help Larry.
No, how could she have helped him—against all that carnage? She didn’t even have a plastic butter knife on her!
She could see it...the Alaska Hut...just ahead.
Hope allowed her to redouble her efforts. She heard the sound of her breath, and the squish of her footsteps as she ran the best she could over the snow. Her legs burned, her lungs were now pure fire.
Suddenly, a voice called out to her. She nearly lost her footing in the snow as panic swept through her anew.
“Stop! Stop now!”
Stop? What insanity was that?
She ran all the harder!
She didn’t hear footsteps following so close behind her—she didn’t hear or feel anything at first, just that pounding of her heart, the ragged and desperate rise and fall of her breath...
And then, it felt as if she was hit from behind by a semi.
She went down, flying, her face smashing into the coldness of the snow, a mouthful of the stuff nearly choking her. There was someone on top of her...or trying to drag her up.
And all she could picture was the blood spattered over the snow-white landscape, the woman cut in half...pieces connected by a pool of blood.
And so she fought. She fought with every remaining ounce of energy within her; she fought for her life.
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