“RUN!” Hobb yelled lifting his gun.

Meredith screamed. Hobb squeezed the trigger. The roar of the FN MK46 drowned the girl out as it spat flame and fury, the 5.56 caliber slugs tearing up the trees all around the advancing killer, pounding into his body.

Gripping the girl's hand, Kelly ran, hauling Meredith back towards the road.

Round after round slammed into Jason's torso. Chunks of meat burst from his body, accompanied by spurting ribbons of blood. The assault rocked the masked madman in his tracks, but slowed him down only a little. Hobb's finger clenched the trigger. The gun jerked and rattled in his grip. No way, he thought. No way am I not hitting something vital. Why won't he stop? The legs. Take out the legs. Lowering the barrel of his rifle slightly, Hobb continued to unleash the withering onslaught of hot lead. Following the gun's motion, a trail of bullets tracked down Jason's belly and across his crotch, sending up a fireworks show of gore. The slugs ate into the killer's thighs, the impact so strong it knocked his legs out from under him. Hobb rejoiced silently as Jason was hurled face down in the dirt, slamming to the ground with a brutal impact. Not letting up, Hobb poured lead into the psychopath's broad back. Blood shot skywards like a gory lawn sprinkler. Still Hobb continued to fire, gun crazy. Until his magazine was spent.

"Fuck," Hobb swore. He expelled the soent ammo cassette and went to his vest pocket for another. It was then that he realized his vest was still on the ground, where he had dropped it when he gave his undershirt to Meredith. And he hadn't loaded the belt feed on the rifle.

Unbelievably, Jason was getting to his feet.

   Chapter 14

"Just fuckin’ run!” Hobb shouted as he ducked past Noon. She said something in response, but it was lost under the thunder as she opened up with her own FN MK46 and Marr cut loose with his shotgun. Jason's body was battered by the force of the attack, twitching and dancing as bullets tore into him. He struggled to move towards the Operators, but the sheer firepower held him back, as if he were trying to walk into hurricane-strength winds. Blood exploded from Jason's convulsing body.

Samantha Noon advanced, snarling, putting round after round into the lunatic's chest. Flame from the muzzle of her gun lit up the night. She was aiming for Jason's heart, the torrent of bullets opening up a gory, shredded mess where the thing ought to be. Bits of stringy meat were flung from Jason's torso, his shirt tearing away to tattered strips. But he wouldn't fall. Noon snapped off her words one at a time through clenched teeth as she continued to pour gunfire into Jason's chest. "I... would... like... you... to... DIE!"

Jason Voorhees, however, was not cooperating.

Operator Marr stepped past her on the left, his shotgun firing a ribbon of flame. Noon watched the weapon rip holes in Jason's torso, shoving him back a few feet. Then the killer was coming at them again, despite the rain of lead impacting his body. Marr moved a couple steps closer as he fired another round, hoping to put a bigger hole in the target.

Then Noon's gun clicked. She couldn't believe it. She had emptied the belt into him; two hundred rounds. His chest had to be like meat pudding by then, and he was still coming at them, staring with those yellow, dead eyes. Marr's shotgun lit up the scene again, the buckshot tearing through Jason's right knee, blowing bits of bone and cartilage away. Finally, Voorhees wobbled a little. Marr took another step towards the blood-spattered murderer, preparing to take out the other knee.

“Not too close, Marr!" Noon warned. With practiced ease, she slid an ammo cassette from her vest pocket and jammed it into the machine gun, keeping her eyes on Jason the entire time. Which is why she saw the machete flash towards Marr's throat and the streak of blood that trailed behind the blade. Choking, the man staggered backwards, putting himself directly between Noon and Jason. He spun to stare with wild eyes at Noon, blood burbling from the deep Slash at the base of his neck.

"Holy sh-!" Noon said, before the tip of the machete erupted from Marr's Kevlar vest directly in the center of his chest. A spout of blood hosed across Noon's face, effectively obliterating her view through the night vision goggles. Marr's last act before his life sputtered away was to squeeze the trigger one more time. The big shotgun coughed up a fireball. It could have been worse; the blast only took off two of the toes on Noon's right foot. Screaming in pain, she collapsed to that side, instinctively pulling the trigger of her own weapon. If Marr hadn't already been quite dead, he could have been considered lucky. The half-dozen 5.56 caliber rounds Noon had fired whizzed past his falling body, thudding into the trees beyond.

As Marr's corpse fell across Noon, the dead weight drove her machine gun back into her face, striking her mouth. Tasting blood and unable to see through her goggles, the woman frantically wriggled backwards, trying to go where she knew Jason wasn't. Slithering out from under her fallen comrade, Noon reached up to tear her night vision goggles off...

Jason Voorhees, looked down, his machete arcing directly towards her face.

Grunting, Noon dodged to the side. The machete cut into the ground an inch away from her head, showering her face with dirt. Still got the gun, still got the gun. She lifted the nose of the machine gun towards Jason as he withdrew the machete, preparing for another strike. As she pulled the trigger, Jason's left hand closed over the barrel. Three or four slugs hit him in the chest before he yanked the gun from her grip and hurled it away. The super-heated barrel seared the dead flesh of Jason's hand, filling the air with a noxious stench. Shrieking uncharacteristically, Noon rolled away a microsecond before the machete blade came down again. Twisting, she fired a staggering kick into the side of Jason's head, snapping it aside.

The brutish madman turned back slowly to glower at her. The kick had knocked his mask slightly askew, and only one of the yellow eyes peered out at her. Noon found that somehow satisfying, as if she'd injured him. As Jason reached up to straighten his mask, Noon scuttled to her left and pushed herself up on her feet, favoring her wounded leg. She risked a quick look around for her gun, but it was nowhere to be seen. Didn't matter. She'd tear his guts out with her bare hands if she had to.

Then Jason, his mask properly aligned once again, was coming at her.

Thanks to the heavy gunfire that Noon and Marr had unleashed, the entire front of Jason's torso looked like it had been smeared with pepperoni pizza, blood everywhere. Torn flesh danced around as the killer stomped towards her, his decayed hands outstretched. Noon leapt, rocketing a spinning kick—with her gunshot foot—into her attacker. The blow impacted on Jason's right shoulder, barely jarring him. Noon howled with pain as she came back down, putting even more hurt on her shredded foot. With incredible speed, Jason responded with a backhanded left that smashed her nose and sent a fountain of blood gushing into the dirt. Noon staggered backwards, somehow managing to stay on her feet. She bent at the waist, badly rattled. Somebody was flipping the lights on and off in her skull. Blood streamed down her face. Her foot felt like she had run it down a garbage disposal and then dipped it in lye. And then put it back in the garbage disposal for another round.

Agonizingly, she lifted her head to see Jason reaching for her. "No!"

Her words were silenced as his thick fingers closed on her throat. She felt her trachea collapsing under the crushing grip. As Jason lifted her off the ground, Samantha Noon tore at him with both hands, clawing chunks of meat from his demolished torso and flinging them in every direction. The masked maniac stared at his flailing victim, seemingly unaware that pieces of him were being ripped away and hurled into the bushes.

He raised his machete.

Noon's eyes widened as she stared at the blade that was poised to strike, but she continued to rip furiously at Jason Voorhees. A shred of his own flesh was slung across the blade of the machete. The killer looked at the dripping piece of meat, then casually flicked it from the blade. Then he plunged the machete into Noon's guts, sawing the blade in and out, excruciatingly working it upwards. Noon gave up trying to tear Jason apart and focused instead on holding her intestines in place. She felt the machete scrape upwards against her breastbone, then whoever was working that light switch in her head turned it off for good.

     Chapter 15, Friday the 13th: Church of the Divine Psychopath