Lorna wasn’t in her office. On impulse, Sue concentrated on the office and motioned her finger. She watched as it cleaned itself. If the bookstore didn’t work out, she’d start a maid service.
Lifting her head, she practiced strolling across the lobby. The sun had already set outside, but streetlights made it easy to see beyond the glass. She stopped, nervously looking at the door where Hank had appeared. Instead, she saw her reflection standing in the black dress and red heels. She hardly recognized herself.
Hearing a loud thud coming from the theater, Sue went to find Lorna. She pushed through the curtains, peeking to make sure the movie was over. The screen was dark, and the seats were empty. She heard another thud.
“Hey, Lorna? Are you in here? I need your honest opinion about this dress.” Sue walked down the aisle toward the stage.
Her hand began to tingle. She slowed her steps and looked around.
“Lorna?”
No one answered.
“Julia?” Sue whispered. “Is that you?”
She took a few more steps.
“Sue?” Jameson’s voice came from behind. He sounded breathless as he hurried toward her. He gripped his phone in his hand. “I ran here as fast as I could. What’s the matter? What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?” Sue again glanced around the seating area.
“Your text.” He slowed his steps.
A creak sounded overhead. They both glanced up, but she didn’t see anything.
“Jameson, I didn’t text you,” she said
“You texted ‘danger help’,” he insisted.
“No, I—”
A dark laugh sounded, projected from the stage. Fear shot through her. Sue turned quickly and stumbled on her high heels. She caught herself before she fell.
A loud pop-pop sounded. Sue looked at the ceiling in time to see a blur of movement coming toward her.
“Watch out!” Jameson yelled.
He slammed against her, pulling her out of the way. The theater lights crashed where she’d been standing. The sound of striking metal and breaking glass reverberated in the auditorium. His arm hooked her waist, and he kept running with her toward the stage. Her heels fell off as she stumbled, leaving her barefoot.
Jameson stopped but didn’t let go. “Are you all right?”
Sue nodded. Her heart hammered violently. She stared at the large, broken fixture with its sharp protruding edges.
“Did it get you?” he insisted, grabbing her face to check her for injuries.
“You save my life.” Sue threw her arms around his neck. She shook violently. The ring on her hand vibrated with a warning. A loud, frantic thud sounded from far away as if someone banged on the walls.
Remembering the laugh, she pushed away from him to look at the stage. The smell of gun oil and cedar assaulted them.
Jameson coughed. “Where is that coming from?”
“You can’t be here.” Sue tried to push him across a row of seats to the other aisle, to where the path was a little clearer. “It’s not safe.”
“What are you talking about?” He refused to budge. “Sue, what’s going on here.”
Sue looked around, trying to catch any hint of where Hank might be so she could send Jameson in the opposite direction.
“You won’t believe me,” Sue answered. “You need to get out of here.”
“Come with me. I’m not leaving you,” Jameson denied, refusing to go when she pushed harder at him.
“He’s angry at me.” Sue coughed as the smell of the cologne became so thick her eyes watered. The taste of it choked her, and she recognized the bourbon.
“What is that?” Jameson looked around, gagging as he covered his mouth.
“Smell, taste,” Sue whispered in mounting panic. “Jameson, please, go.”
“Who’s after you?”
“I can’t…” Sue realized he wasn’t going to go on his own, so she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the seats toward the other aisle.
Suddenly, the seat bottoms at the end of the row began slamming up and down hard, moving like a wave toward them. She pushed back into him but didn’t make it out in time. A cushioned seat bottom sprang forward. The hard plastic frame knocked her into the seat in front of it. She cried out as pain radiated from her thigh and stomach. It felt as bad as when Hank had punched her.
Jameson pulled her out of the row and into his arms. Over the loud banging seats, he yelled, “I’ll believe you!”
“It’s Hank,” she yelled.
His expression instantly turned from confusion to anger.
“He’s haunting me,” Sue cried. “You have to get out of here. It’s me he wants!”
“I’m not leaving you. We’re getting out of here together.” Jameson refused to let her go. He pulled her with him toward the stage stairs.
When they reached the stage, the chairs stopped banging. The silence was just as terrifying. Sue held on to Jameson’s hand, and they took a slow step across the stage. They both searched around the area, glancing up at the ceiling for any weapons Hank might use against them.
“Sue?” Heather ran into the auditorium only to stop when she saw the lighting rig blocking her path. “Hold on. We’re coming around!”
Heather ran back out.
When they made it to center stage, the hum of the projector sounded, and a bright, flickering light came at them from the projection booth. Sue automatically turned to the movie screen. Their shadows cast as a black ring blipped around them to mark the start of a film.
A woman’s giant face appeared in black-and-white, as she gasped, “You think—”
The screen instantly blipped again to a 1970s schoolchild who yelled, “—I don’t know—”
It flicked to a cowboy, “—what—”
Then a silent film where the sheik mouthed the word, “—head—”
Then a construction worker, “—move ahead—”
The screen images began flickering too fast to register all the genres of films and faces, but the sound came in a rush of different, clipped voices, “—head—head—head—head—what’s in—your head—know—know—head—”
“Stop it!” Sue screamed, covering her ears.
“Sue, we’re coming!” Heather ran toward her. Vivien helped Lorna behind her as if the woman had trouble staying upright as she held her forehead.
Seats ripped from the ground and went flying at the wall where Vivien, Heather, and Lorna tried to approach. The women ducked back to safety.
“Get out of here,” Sue screamed. “Save yourselves!”
Suddenly the scene from a low budget porno appeared. A woman leaned over a desk as her boss spanked her with his wooden desk nameplate. Each strike elicited a loud, sexual noise.
Sue gripped Jameson’s hand tighter. Her eyes moved down to their shadows; only now there were three of them standing on the stage.
Sue turned toward the third shadow, but no one was there.
“Sue?” Jameson started to pull her hand.
She looked back at the screen in time to see the shadow’s arm swinging at them. Jameson’s hand ripped from her grasp as he flew across the stage. He hit the wall with a loud, ugly thud.