Meanwhile, across town at Haddonfield Memorial Hospital, Sheriff Robinson sat in the waiting room with his head in his hands, thinking to himself just what in the hell he was going to do. A couple of his deputies, Josh Barnes and Luke Weber, who had helped him at the cemetery, came by to see how he was doing, and were currently discussing something over a cup of a coffee a few chairs down.

Robinson had reluctantly filled them in all of the details, as he best understood them. Basically, he told them that although it wasn’t confirmed, Michael Myers had escaped from the Smith’s Grove Sanitarium and returned to Haddonfield. Fresh out of the academy, both Barnes and Weber were in awe of the name Michael Myers, and were eager to help out in anyway they could.

The sheriff was careful not to make any rash moves or inform the media of the situation because all that would do is cause mass hysteria throughout the town, something Loomis had warned him of earlier. But just what could he do? He was already short staffed, and simply did not have the number of men to handle a town crisis, should one occur. However, he did have a backup plan if all else failed, but that would only be in the worst-case scenario, and that was something he didn’t want to even think about.

He just wished Loomis would be fine so he would know just how to proceed to make the town safe again. Robinson knew it was a long shot for Loomis to leave the hospital tonight, or any other night for that matter. The doctor had informed him that Loomis had lost a lot of oxygen and plenty of blood, but had somehow stabilized and narrowly avoided slipping into a coma. He then added that while he would list him in serious condition, there was no timetable for his recovery, which meant that he truly had no idea how long John would remain unconscious.

The doctor’s words just kept echoing over and over in Robinson’s head when suddenly, his police radio went off, and a report of a 187 on Hickory Lane blared through the speaker. After hearing the words, “all available units please respond” from the operator, the sheriff’s stomach dropped. He looked up at his two deputies, who heard the same transmission, and without saying a word, they all dashed out of the building and into their squad cars and raced toward the scene.


Minutes later, they arrived at the scene, their lights blaring against the night sky. Robinson found the house had already been taped off with yellow caution tape and two other officers were already on the scene, along with two paramedics, who were loading a black body bag into their ambulance.

“Voss, what happened here?” The Sheriff questioned, asking one of the officers nearby.

“I don’t know, boss,” the officer explained, trying to remain calm. “This lady here came home and found her son lying dead in the garage. We have no witnesses, and the murder weapon appears to be a steel rake.”

Looking around at the scene, Robinson noticed a middle-aged woman crying on the steps of her front porch, with another officer trying to console her. Then he looked over toward the garage and saw a large pool of blood, with a small stream trickling down the driveway. Feeling his stomach drop again, the sheriff turned back toward the road and saw the ambulance speeding away from the scene, apparently very eager to get away from this grisly site. It was then that the sheriff’s worst fears had finally hit home. Michael Myers had indeed come home.

“Barnes, Weber, come here,” Robinson ordered, deciding now was the time to act. “Barnes, I need you to get the mayor on the phone and inform him of the situation, and tell him I request immediate backup, including the National Guard.”

“Yes, sir,” Barnes affirmed before running off to find the nearest phone.

“Weber, call the media and have them get everyone off the streets and behind closed doors,” The Sheriff commanded. “Tell them that anyone caught on the streets after 11 p.m. tonight will be arrested. And, one more thing, have Voss set up some roadblocks all across town. I don’t want anyone coming in or going out of this town until after we have our suspect in custody.”

“It’s really him, isn’t it?” Weber asked, trying to hide the terror in his voice. “It’s Michael Myers.”

“Yes, god damnit, now move!” The Sheriff yelled as Weber took off to carry out his orders. Robinson then stared off into the dark, cold night, hoping he had made the right decision. He knew what chaos was about to occur in this little town, he just prayed there wouldn’t be another slaughterhouse.

“Come on Loomis, I need you,” he mumbled to himself.

Proceed To Chapter 21
Back To The Lair Of Horror