Thawn was wasting no time. As Jason thrashed wildly around, he leant back like a bronco rider, his right hand in the air, clutching the bone knife. Then with a snarl, he slammed it down.

The sharp points disappeared into the top of Jason's skull. With a strangled grunt, Jason fell to his knees. Turning the cleaver around in his hand, he slammed it up and back over his own head. Thawn gasped hoarsely as it sank into his stomach.

As Halo looked on, Thawn thumped his fist down on top of the bone knife. In reply, Jason twisted his upper body so dramatically that Thawn was sent hurtling off the cleaver. He landed awkwardly, something breaking inside him.

Halo saw another portion of the roof caving downwards. There was no time to study it properly: she was about to blow Jason's head off. He was still on his knees, grabbing at his skull with both hands, trying to pull the blade out. Looking down the barrel, she fixed the mask in her sights. Then, she squeezed the trigger. Despite Thawn's advice about recoil, the force of it still took her by surprise. She tried to regain her balance, but ended up on her back.

Jason was still kneeling. No damage.

"Fire again!" called Thawn, weakly, clutching at his stomach wound.

Shaking his head, as though shrugging off a bad hangover, Jason rose yet again, the bone knife still protruding several inches from the top of his head.

Crouching, Halo struggled to reload the shotgun. The fact that she had no idea how to do so, was a problem. How did they do it on TV? She reached below the barrel and found a tubular handle with finger grip texture. Wrenching it back toward her, she mouthed a silent "Yes!" as the spent shell exited, courtesy of a slot on the weapon's side. She presumed that another shell had simultaneously clicked into position.

Would it be the last?

Jason walked toward Thawn, who was struggling like an overturned beetle. He flicked his wrist and a small blade appeared in his hand. He attempted to hurl it at Jason, but his arm had been broken. The blade fell uselessly to the ground.

"Shoot!" Thawn screeched. "Fucking shoot!"

Halo aimed the shotgun at Jason.

She paused, frowning, as Jason threw his cleaver to one side. It clattered on the ground and lay still.

Jason reached down toward Thawn with his bare hands.

"No!"

Halo fired. Jason's head exploded.

At least, Halo thought it had. When she recovered and looked clearly, she had merely blown the protruding part of the bone knife to smithereens.

Thawn was crying deliriously as Jason seized hold of his upper body, tugging in opposite directions.

He was going to tear the man apart.

"Help me!" he cried, reaching out for Halo. "Shoot again!"

Halo's heart pounded. She couldn't let anyone die that way.

Then she remembered a snapshot of her dead sister, back in the good old days. The two of them, taking turns on a tree swing in their backyard. It was a simple image, but it gave her strength. Or froze her sense of humanity. Either way, she wasn't about to lift a finger to help Thawn.

As the man's shrieking reached a horrendous peak, Halo reloaded the shotgun slowly. Methodically.

Smoke from the hut was rapidly engulfing the two combatants. Jason appeared to tear a thick ream of flesh from Thawn's torso, making bile bubble out of his mouth.

"Kill me,” he begged, his voice glottal and slurred. "Kill me!"

"Sorry," said Halo. "You're not worth the ammo. Send my regards to your wife."

The man's vocal agony reached new heights as Jason lifted him into the air by his feet.

Suspended upside-down, above a massive hole in the roof, Thawn bared his teeth at Halo, his face bright red, dripping with his own blood. A maze of intestines bulged from his torn belly. "You're next," he gargled.

   Friday the 13th: Hate Kill Repeat, chapter 24