The Cabin in the Woods полностью

Holden and Dana swapped a glance, and Marty saw something change in their stances. The fear was still there, the tension, but for a few seconds… it looked as if they were listening to something else. Some inner voice that whispered things they did not understand.

Are they hearing voices too? Marty thought, but even thinking it made him feel slightly ridiculous. He was the dope-head, as Curt was always so keen to tell him. He was the one who heard the fucking voices.

“Yeah…” Holden said, and Dana nodded at him. “Yeah, split up. Good idea.” “Really?” Marty asked. And behind them, the living room window exploded inward. He ducked and span around in time to see glass slivers jingling to the floor and timber frame shards spiking inward. And through the ruin of the window protruded big-zombie’s arm. His fist was clenched around a handful of glass and wood, but there was no blood.

Beyond, his shadow pressed close.

“I got it!” Curt shouted, running at the window. “You guys get in your rooms!” He shouldered into a bookcase and it started sliding toward the window, screaming across the floor, books tumbling, while the zombie’s arm thrashed to clear more broken glass and framing.

“Wait…” Marty said, but his voice was lost amid the chaos.

Dana and Holden shared a glance, a nod, and then Dana said, “Let’s go!” They headed for their separate rooms on the left, parting without even a hug, and for a moment Marty couldn’t move.

This isn’t right, he thought. He looked back at Curt, who was now shoving against the bookcase while big-zombie leaned in the window and pushed back, seeking entrance even while Curt strove to prevent it.

“Go!” Curt screamed at Marty, angry at his indecisiveness. So Marty went, because there was little else he could do. Maybe Curt was right. Maybe they should all check their windows and doors individually, then go back and help him fight that big fucker.

But even as he entered his room and dashed to the window, it was almost as if he could foresee what would happen next. We’ll be locked in, he thought. And he turned back to his door.

•••

“Told you,” Sitterson said, perhaps a little too smug.

“Yeah, okay,” Hadley said. On the big monitors they saw the three kids dashing into their rooms as the fourth tried to hold back Matthew. Sitterson, humming, tapped a couple of keys and the views changed without a flicker, shifting to inside each room.

Dana entered her own room and dashed to the window, Holden stood in the center of his and took a few deep breaths, and Marty was the last, frowning, head shaking.

Curt was still battling Matthew the zombie.

Well, let him. Sitterson wasn’t concerned. His placing right now didn’t matter too much, and if things went too far at that end of the cabin, he could still be lured across to the other.

“Peas in separate pods,” Sitterson said, raising his hands in triumph.

“Lock ’em in,” Hadley said, and he was smiling as well. For now. He’d find something else to stress about soon.

Sitterson tapped a key and-

— Marty’s door slammed shut behind him. After the slam came the slide and thunk! of locks ramming home-not just in his door but in the others, as well.

He gasped and held his breath, listening for more. Weak light from the single light reflected from one half of the window, making the darkness outside even more complete. The other half stood wide open. He’d unlatched and opened it earlier when he was laid back on his bed smoking pot, having some vague idea that the fumes could spread through the air outside and chill the forest. It had been a little too looming for his liking, a little too forceful. Trees should be just trees, and shouldn’t wear the shadows of guardians.

Locked in, he thought. We’re all suddenly locked in. And glancing down at his door handle he couldn’t even see a keyhole. There was a handle, that was all. So the locks must be.

“On the outside,” he muttered. But that felt wrong, too. He tried to recall what the doors looked like from out there, and he was pretty sure they were the same- just a handle, nothing else.

No keyhole.

No lock.

In which case…

The cabin shook again with another terrible impact. Curt cried out from somewhere and more glass broke, and Marty’s window suddenly seemed larger than ever. He moved then, slowly to begin with, two small, quiet steps, and then in his mind’s eye he saw zombie-girl’s face intruding through the window. He leapt the last few steps, grabbed the handle and pulled it close, flicking the latch to secure it shut. Something shattered behind him and he shouted, turning around and hardly prepared for what he might see.

He must have knocked the table with his leg as he rushed by, and the lamp on top had wobbled and smashed after he’d turned the latch.

Not that glass and thin wood will do much good against-

He looked down.