Chapter Three-Friday, June 13, 1979-3
Steve Christy was late.
He was eating a cherry pie, and sipping some coffee.
'How much do I owe you, Sandy?'.
'Two and a quarter, Steve', the 61 year old, glasses wearing, red haired waitress said. He took out three dollar bills; he said: 'Keep the change'.
'Thanks, Steve. It's going to rain heavy tonight'.
'Yeah, that was what I need. I got seven campers at Camp Crystal Lake. And they're wondering where I am. Business, and shopping took my time', he said. 'You got to leave Steve', Sandy warned.
'Yeah. I suppose so', Steve said.
The truth was that he couldn't tell Alice the truth. That his parents failed after the drowning of Jason Voorhees in 1957. Maybe he did drown?, he thought to himself; maybe...He sighed. Over the years, there was the deaths of Barry and Claudette in 1958, and arson in 1959, and poisoned water in 1960...and nothing since it was closed. But Christy knew the truth. He did it from Alice as they made out. The truth was more hurtful then he knew. He opened the Diner door, grabbed the rain slicker, and headed to the Jeep. He frowned as the engine stalled. Sighing, he waved his hands in the air, and saw the Sheriff's car up ahead.
'Need a ride, Steve?', Sheriff Earl Tierney asked him,
'Yeah, the engine's gone. I'll get it towed in the morning'.
And he got into the passenger-side seat.
'It's bad luck it's Friday the 13th. More deaths, more rapes, more horror. Tonight is a full moon. It brings out the loonies', Sheriff Earl Tierney said. 'Crazy Ralph was at Camp Crystal Lake', he added.
'Just great! Old Ralph spouting his Gospel', Steve said.
Suddenly the radio mike crackled.
'There's a three car pile up off Miner Road'.
'I'll be there. ETA, fifteen minutes. Over'.
He opened the door.
'Got to drop you off, Steve. If there's a killer on the loose, I'll arrest him. Or her'. Steve nodded, and bade him "Good night". And, as he trudged up the gravel road, someone used the flashlight, and shone it in his eyes near the Camp Crystal Lake sign. Blinking, he saw who it was.
'Oh, Hi Pamela. What are you doing out here in the rain-?', he asked her.
The hunter's knife came towards his chest.
Steve Christy knew who it was now.
Pamela Sue Voorhees.
Page 5.
