Chapter Three-Friday, June 13, 1980-3
The next morning, a Friday morning, Sandra said: 'Let's go to that camp', she said to Jeff. 'But, Paul said...'. She was determined to go. They reached the woods. Once they headed across the fence, the woods were cold. The oak trees were old; the darkness came forth. Seconds later, Crystal Lake Deputy Sheriff Al Winslow, 53, stood near them. He had greying-blonde hair, blue eyes, and overweight. 'What are you two doing here? This is restricted'. He marched them to the small Office. 'Holt, what you are doing here at the camp is great. But, take it to the next county. The murders are too fresh in people's memories'.
'I know'.
'One year, Holt'.
'I know'.
'And these kids are in the woods'.
'Ginny, make a note', Paul said.
She did.
325Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡak0d8tvRaX
'What! No punishment!'.
'Ginny, no double seconds of ice cream for Jeff and Sandra'.
Offended, Deputy Sheriff Winslow headed towards the vehicle. He saw someone running into the deep woods. 'Hey, you!'. He stormed into the woods. His boots hit the water. Then he made sure the stranger would be arrested. In the middle of the woods was a tired looking iron shack. He couldn't believe that anyone lived here; he was sure that the legends of the Voorhees family was true. Jason Voorhees was dead. Or was he?
Officer Winslow searched the rooms.
He opened one of the doors, and saw more bodies.
'Jesus!', he yelled.
He backed away, and as he did so, Jason Voorhees grabbed a claw hammer...and hit him.
Deputy Sheriff Winslow died instantly.
'Okay. If anyone wants to go to town, let me know', Paul said.
Ted raised his hand.
'Jeff and Sandra are volunteering to stay', Paul said.
They sighed.
Mark, Vickie, Scott, and Terri, did the same.
Some of the other campers did come as well.
It was a long night at Camp Crystal Lake again.
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