Chapter Nineteen
I look around for a moment before setting the backpack down.
I’m relieved as I realize I can hear the river from where I am, even if I can’t see it yet.
I take the map out of my pocket so I can figure out which way to go from here.
The sun is halfway down the sky, time is ticking and I need to start walking.
I want to make some progress while also leaving myself enough time to find a safe place to sleep if I can’t make it to the tower.
I really doubt I’ll be able to sleep no matter what, but having some protection at night sounds like a good idea.
As I study the map more, I know the smart idea is to head straight for the fire tower but the tree that’s been marked on it looks really close.
Close enough that I don’t want to regret not going to see what it is or what it potentially has to offer, because once I head for the tower there isn’t any turning around.
My thoughts are fighting against each other.
The metaphorical angel and demon waging a war with my senses.
One telling me to think ahead, not be dumb and move on.
The other though, louder, pushing my curiosity–telling me I’ll regret not knowing.
There are only three things marked on this map and the tree is one of them.
It must be important. There could be something helpful there even.
I do my best to use the tunnel and the sound of the river to orient myself as I take my first steps toward the tree.
I hold the small map out in front of me, unsure of what I should be doing or if I’m using it right.
I know I’m at a disadvantage with no compass, not that I know how to use one anyway.
I’m tempted to take the time to once again empty the bag and hope one will fall out, but having already done so several times, I know one won’t.
I try to move forward with confidence, holding my head high.
As the sun keeps getting lower though, it’s hard to keep positive.
After what feels like longer than it should have taken based on the map, I feel like I recognize where I am.
I spin in a slow circle, taking in my surroundings when in the slight distance I see the horrible stick figures hanging in a tree.
My eyes keep darting around as I move hesitantly closer, until they land on the tree.
I had a sneaking, scared worry that the tree on the map was going to be THE tree–the one from the hike gone wrong.
Its gaping black hole stares back at me, dozens of the figures scattered at its base.
The color red sticks out amongst the dull colors of the forest floor.
My curiosity pulls me closer and as I bend down I’m able to see it’s a red ribbon.
Could it be the same one that was waiting for us on our car?
Did Luke bring it here? I pick it up gently, a shiver running down my spine causing me to drop it again.
A tickle in the back of my mind tells me to look up.
As I got closer to the ribbon, I hadn’t noticed how close to the tree I had gotten.
The darkness is so close to me now, it's almost touching me. This isn’t right.
This isn’t where I want to be. ‘This place is bad.’ The thought echoes through my mind.
A noise. Something skittering inside the tree. It sounds like it's close to the opening, just out of reach. I listen closer and realize I can hear breathing. Quiet but heavy and rasping. Goosebumps break out all over my body as my own breathing starts to pick up.
Only a moment later, one of the creature's long, skeletal hands emerges from the black, sliding against the tree’s trunk.
Its grey skin is almost translucent this close.
From the opposite end of the opening, another hand slowly comes out, this time more human with skin and fingernails.
Something is still off with it, but I can’t put my finger on what’s not right.
“Hey!” Someone yells from behind me. The voice startles me enough that it breaks whatever trance I was in. When I look behind me, I don’t see anyone. I scan quickly around but as far as I can tell, I’m alone.
I feel the air behind me shift, I’ve turned my back on the tree which now feels like a mistake.
Scared, I close my eyes, sure something is about to grab me to pull me in.
Instead of hands grabbing me, I feel a soft, hot breath against my ear.
Followed by an earsplitting scream, so close to my ear that it pops and all I can hear out of it is a long, high pitched tone.
Without hesitation, I take off into the woods.
The ringing in my ears makes me feel dizzy and I have a hard time staying oriented.
All I focus on is moving forward. I don’t know where to look as I go back and forth paying attention to the ground so I don’t trip but also not wanting to run into anything ahead of me.
The ringing is slowly lessening but not enough yet that I can hear if anything is following me.
I tell myself it is and not to stop until suddenly I’m falling.
I tumble, the only thing stopping me from rolling is the heavy backpack.
I’m coughing and gasping for air, the ground spinning around me before I force myself to sit up and look behind me.
It all feels like it’s happening in slow motion, though in reality, I think it has been a few seconds.
The woods behind me are empty and still. The leaves in the trees aren’t even blowing. No wind, not even a breeze. It feels scarily still. I stay sitting for a few moments, looking around and trying to see where I ended up but nothing gives me any clue.
Slowly, I stand up, brushing the dirt off of myself before looking up toward the sky, hoping I will catch sight of the fire tower.
The trees are too dense in this spot though and I can’t see anything.
I stand completely still, giving myself a moment to really listen, but I can’t hear the river.
My first mistake and it’s huge. I turn around, looking through the trees and taking a few steps forward as desperation starts to grip me.
This can’t be happening. It’s only the beginning and I’m already lost.
_____
I start walking deeper into the trees, the leaves crunching underfoot.
Every step releases a small smell of decay into the air.
Not the bad kind though, not the smell that seems to come with whatever lives out in this forest. This is the scent the Earth emits as it cleans the forest floors, making room for the new growth in the spring.
I enjoy the smell, using it to imagine I’m on a normal hike.
I pretend I’m that type of person. Someone who is outdoorsy and brave, always up for anything.
The smell can only distract me for so long.
As the sun gets lower, the more confined I start to feel.
I hum, trying to hold my sanity together, but my perception out here is already becoming scattered.
After a little while, I’m convinced I've started to walk in circles, every tree looks the same and without anything or anyone to distract me, time feels slow. The only thing keeping me grounded is the movement of the sun. As it gets lower, the air gets steadily cooler, reminding me to keep moving. It’s the time of year where you can almost always see your breath in the cold air, but now it feels more exaggerated.
The impending darkness makes me feel increasingly vulnerable.
It's constant work to keep refocusing my mind on listening to the birds chirping in the trees or the leaves blowing across the forest floor.
I count my steps, trying to channel negative thoughts into something mindless.
_____
I hike longer than I’ve ever hiked before, so when I stumble upon a fallen tree, I decide to sit down and take a break.
I use the tree as a seat, not wanting to get chilled by the cold ground.
As I shrug the backpack off, I groan. I roll my shoulders, my muscles aching.
My body isn’t used to this sort of constant activity, and the backpack feels like it’s somehow gotten heavier.
I take a sip of water and eat one of the many granola bars I packed.
My stomach doesn’t feel nearly satisfied with the small amount I’m giving it.
If I’d been thinking clearly earlier, I would have made myself a big meal before leaving the cabin.
I do what I do best and internally berate myself at the wasted opportunity.
I hear a twig snap a few feet away, my eyes locking in on the area it came from, and I freeze.
I sit so still that I’m barely letting myself breathe as I scan up and down the trees.
Out of the corner of my eye, I swear I see something move.
Just a blur, gone before I can turn my head.
I keep as still as I can while continuing to look through the trees.
Another twig snaps, this time behind me.
I close my eyes, willing myself to stay calm and brave enough to look.
Very slowly, I twist my body, trying not to make any noise.
All I see are the same trees and shadows.
My eyes are darting around as I get nervous but stop suddenly when I see a hand clinging to the side of a tree.
It’s not even twenty feet from me and I can tell immediately that the hand belongs to the creature.
It’s body is still hidden but I can see that the hand is big; the fingers wrapping almost halfway around the tree's trunk. Its fingernails are digging into the bark like it’s holding itself to the spot.
I quickly turn away, facing my backpack again, and start slowly, carefully replacing the things I took out. I whisper to myself, “Don’t look back,” as I carefully lift the backpack back onto my shoulders. I hear a crunch of leaves directly behind me. “Don’t run.”