Chapter Text
Mary Farrands couldn’t say that she had ever seen what was beyond Smith’s Grove.
If she had, it must have been locked up inside her memory, ready to be unlocked at a certain time. But even in the rain, she could see that even the promise of the bus stop was beautiful. Or maybe it was just her desperation to get Jamie to safety.
”Are we gonna get home?” Jamie’s voice sounded so small. Mary’s heart ached for her.
”I made my choice and I’m not going to leave you behind,” Mary said. “I promise you, Jamie.”
The trucker in the front, Daniel Carpenter, nodded. "We’ll get you home.”
***
The three stumbled in, soaking wet, the rain bearing down on them in what felt less like a rainstorm and more like a hurricane. Mary still couldn’t believe how much the storm was raging, but she knew that Thorn, and Michael, weren’t just heralded by the storm. They were the storm.
Wynn wasn’t just a cult leader. He was a monster. A chessmaster that called to mind the Emperor himself from Star Wars (bits of pop culture references trickled down to Smith’s Grove from time to time). A predator too — Mary remembered vividly how the girls would protectively cluster around each other whenever Wynn passed by.
If he got his hands on Jamie — Mary already knew what he would do to her.
And that was why she was doing this.
Jamie was shivering and clinging to Mary. Mary took her hand. “It’s okay,” she soothed. “The bus stop’s nice and warm.”
Michael hadn’t caught up with them. That was a good sign.
***
The bus stop at least had a map to get back to Haddonfield. And a phone.
“You think that we can at least call somebody?” Daniel said.
”We have to be careful,” Mary said. “Our attacker…he has spies everywhere. They could be anywhere, on any street corner."
She knew. She knew that Mrs. Blankenship had blended in as neatly as a chameleon to her role as a kindly babysitter, that Wynn had blended in equally effortlessly as a psychologist who seemingly wanted the best for his patients while abusing them behind the scenes.
Jamie shivered, shrinking into Mary’s leg.
”Jesus Christ, who’s chasing you?” Daniel said. “You make it sound like one of those ritual abuse cases.”
”I may be close.”
“Maybe we can call 9-1-1?” Daniel said.
”Loomis can help us!” Jamie piped up.
Mary sighed.
“Just because Loomis and Wynn are friends doesn’t mean he won’t listen to us,” Jamie said.
”Wynn?” Daniel said. “You’re saying the psychologist’s after you?”
Mary explained. Daniel sighed. “I don’t know what to believe,” he said. “It sounds crazy, a psychologist doing all this. But…I’m not leaving you to him. And we’re calling the cops. If he’s abusing others, calling the Sheriff’s the right thing to do.”
Mary agreed. Then, “I never saw the Sheriff among the cult members,” she said. “We can trust him. I hope.”
***
While Daniel comforted Jamie and wrapped her in a blanket, Mary dialed the police.
Nothing.
”The phone lines must be knocked out due to the storm,” Mary said.
Daniel sighed. “Now what?”
Over the radio, Mary thought she could hear an advertisement for a radio show. Barry Simms. Her heart lifted. There was still a chance.
Mary dialed.