The Third Horror Read Free Page B

of the hospital, he wouldn't speak to Cally or Kody. And he never came near the house again.
    And now here I am, Kody thought, back in the house. Ready to see the ghastly scene again.

     
    Only this time it isn*t real, she told herself.
    This time, it's all pretend.
    "Let's check it out," Bo said, lowering his clipboard. "Where's Rob? It's his scene." He spotted Rob in the driveway, talking to Angie, the script assistant. "Hey, Rob—time to work. Meet you in the kitchen," Bo shouted.
    He tui;ned back to Kody. "Where's Persia? She's in the scene too."
    Kody shrugged. "I haven't seen her since—"
    "Persia won't come out of her trailer," Rob reported, jogging across the grass.
    "She—what?" Bo demanded.
    "Persia says she won't come out until she gets her own fruit basket," Rob told the director. He winked at Kody. "The fruit on the table has all been pawed over and it's unsanitary."
    Bo let out a moan and tossed his clipboard into the air. As he caught it, a strange smile crossed his face. "Know what I should do? I should tell Persia's parents how their little girl is behaving."
    "That won't help," Rob replied.
    "Why not?" Bo demanded.
    "Persia's parents work for her," Rob told him. "Her mom is her secretary. Her dad is her manager."
    Bo's smile faded. "All right. Come on, guys. Let Persia sit in her trailer. We'll check the kitchen out without her."
    Bo pushed open the front door. Kody followed him into the house, a hundred horrifying memories shoving into her mind at once.

     
    The pounding of hammers and the shrill whine of a power saw cut through Kody's thoughts. The crew had spread out over the living room, setting up lights, painting, wallpapering, moving furniture into place— the finishing touches.
    From the front entryway, Kody trained her eyes on the living room window. If Persia is still in her trailer, who did I see in the window? Kody asked herself.
    She didn't have time to think about it. Rob pulled her back into the kitchen.
    Kody took a deep breath and held it. She expected to be overwhelmed by the kitchen, by the memories it would bring back.
    But the room had been completely rebuilt—new cabinets, new appliances, new floor, new everything. Kody was relieved that she didn't receive the emotional jolt she expected.
    After stepping over a bundle of electrical cables, they made their way to the sink. McCarthy's tiny blue eyes lit up as he motioned to the drain. "I think this will work out really well," he said. He grabbed Rob's arm. "Here. Stick your hand in."
    "Huh?" Rob pulled back.
    "It won't bite you," McCarthy insisted, grinning around the stub of his wet cigar. "Put your hand in the drain. All the way in. Then pull it out."
    Rob hesitated. Bo motioned impatiently with the clipboard. "Give him a demo, Sam. Run through it for him."
    McCarthy shrugged. "It's simple. You just stick

     
    your hand all the way in the drain. Then you start to scream your head off."
    "You mean over the sound of the garbage disposal?" Rob asked, peering warily into the drain.
    Bo shook his head. "No garbage disposal sound," he told Rob. "We'll put the grinding sound in later at the studio."
    "Yeah. Now, when you stick your hand in," McCarthy continued, "you'll slip it into a special rubber glove. The glove is positioned in the drain. You slip your hand all the way in. Then you pull it out. The glove has blood all over it and the fingers are all chewed up. It looks great."
    "Gross," Rob muttered.
    Kody lingered behind them, trying to force away the horrifying memories. This is a movie, she repeated to herself This is a movie.
    "We'll need the water running, right?" Bo asked, rubbing his chin.
    "Yeah. Here," McCarthy replied. He reached out and turned the knob. Cold water streamed from the sink faucet into the drain.
    "The glove is positioned so it won't fill with water," he explained to Rob. "Go ahead. Give it a try." He motioned to the drain.
    "We'd better try it two or three times," Bo suggested. "I want to make sure the