Things turned dark quickly the moment we passed the first few trees, the forest’s canopy hiding most of the sky above. It made the day feel shrunk down, and the few spots of sunlight that crept through the perpetual shade made little difference.

  September was halfway over, so the forest was hued with greens turning into vibrant oranges, deep reds and warm yellows.

  We were moving the way we’d been instructed to, checking behind trees and fallen logs and inside bushes and shrubs. The fallen leaves and twigs that covered the forest’s floor crunched beneath our steps.

  Harry had been responsible for the map at first, but his sense of direction had never been his strong suit. Anne was the one who’d stepped up and grabbed the map to guide us along; Lepley was right about one thing, the place was a disorienting mess, and I could only venture a haphazard guess at where we were.

  We kept close to each other, walking no more than a few feet from the nearest person.

  The woods were never quiet, there was always something making noise: the wind rustling through the leaves, woodpeckers on trees, insects flying about. I swept the air in front of my face where a swarm of flies buzzed about and saw a blurry shape on the edge of my vision. I snapped my head instinctively to see what it was.

  “Nothing but trees,” I said to myself.

  A large cloud shaded the area as if to complement my quickened heart and turned the innocent and unrelated sounds of the forest evermore dangerous and creepy. I couldn’t help but think of that blur. It looked like a person.

  I felt someone on my left and my heart leapt to my throat. I clenched my fists.

  “What?” I hissed.

  Donna was holding on to my shirt and pointed at the side where I saw the blur. “Look,” she whispered.

  I gulped, reluctantly turning to follow her finger. I don't know what I was expecting to see in the far distance behind a group of trees, but a man walking wasn't it.

  I breathed a sigh of relief.

  I've got to stop watching horror flicks.

  The man hadn’t noticed us yet, and if we didn’t make an obscene amount of noise, he wouldn’t have a reason to. He was heading in a direction away from us, deeper into the forest. Something about his profile made him look familiar to me, and I had to doublecheck, but at that distance I couldn’t say for sure. A detestable suspicion came to mind, and I walked over to Nemo.

  “Hey,” I grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around. “Can you make that guy out?” I pointed with the turned-off flashlight.

  Nemo squeezed his eyes. “Hmm, looks familiar,” he scratched his chin, “can’t quite tell from over here.”

  My heart had yet to calm, and the beat of my pulse made me peevish. I smacked him on the back of the head. “Focus, stop messing with me.”

  “Dude, don’t be like that. It’s obviously Connor.”

  “Connor?” I said and squeezed my eyes as hard as I could to see the man who’d barely been inside my sight. I knew it was a vain attempt, Nemo’s eyes were a mythical topic, there was no chance I, a person with average eyesight, would be able to tell from this far away.

  Nemo shrugged and left Donna and I to resume his searching.

  “Connor?” Donna asked.

  “He’s from school, a year above ours,” I turned and saw her ready to ask, “we used to hang out when we were younger.”

  Donna seemed satisfied, she crossed her arms behind her back and continued walking ahead. I really didn’t want to delve deeper into that past.

  When we came close to the edge of the area we were given to search, sunset had changed the colors of the sky to deep pink and orange rather than light blue and yellow. There was still enough light though for us to pretend we were better off than to use the flashlights. It was as if we weren’t willing to accept the fact that night was fast approaching.

  We’d finally reached the end of the trees in the area and walked out to a clearing, short grass growing evenly along the floor of the wide breadth of treeless space. I could see why this place was considered of less importance by the search teams. Any half-competent group, even rushed, would be able to sweep the area and not miss a thing in less time than it took me to toast a slice of bread.

  I doubt it would take us more than a couple of minutes. We weren’t searching for lost change; we were looking for a person.

  But then I stopped abruptly, the others after me, when I saw a hollow log lying on the grass.

  It wasn’t that though—not really—that drew my attention. It was the body behind the log, lying still and splayed out over and around the wood and ground. Mangled, dirt-covered, frozen. Jenny had injuries throughout her body, scratches and bites. Her long hair drooped, covering half her face. I didn’t notice her expression, couldn't bear the look on her face. I didn't need to though, I could guess from her injuries that it was one spoiled by terror and shock.

  Dread descended on me so suddenly and heavy that it almost buckled my knees.

  I had no idea how the others reacted: if they went rigid like me, if they screamed, if they kept their cool. I can’t even remember what was going on in my mind at that moment. The only thing I knew for sure was that we were in the middle of the forest where we’d just found the dead body of a person we knew. Any thoughts that came to mind then I would only call paranoid and fleeting.

  Harry managed to pull me out of it, and I breathed as if I had just come above water. I was panting, barely able to control myself, but then one of the others told me to breathe through my nose—slowly inside, without forcing it—then exhale from my mouth.

  It didn’t take long for me to regain my calm, and when I looked at my friends—with a pair of flashlights turned on—I spoke aloud what everyone was thinking.

  “We have to warn the police,” I said.

  The others looked at me with wide eyes.

  “Harry,” my voice quavered, “you take Anne, she’ll find the way,” I swallowed and added, “and Donna! The three of you can get the police to come.”

  “Why don’t we call them,” Donna said and pulled out a slider phone. She dialed the number; her eyes widened. “There’s no signal.”

  “What about this?” Anne pulled out the two walkie-talkies her father had given her.

  I took one in my hand and started fiddling with it in the hopes that it would amount to something, unfortunately these were simply devices sold for recreational use. The memory of Lepley talking on the radio popped in my head though. “Did Lepley give us a frequency we could use?” I asked.

  The five of us stood staring at each other. Nemo shook his head, and so did everyone else. “Great, well,” I clicked the button to speak into the one I held, “we can talk to each other,” I spoke into it and my voice carried out to the other one in Anne’s hand.

  Anne brought the map up with trembling hands.

  Donna was fiddling with her nails, anxiously scratching her palms. She swayed over Anne’s shoulder and pointed at something on the map. “There,” she said, her voice tight and loud. “Is that a road?”

  Anne furrowed her brows. “You’re right! That’s the highway,” her own voice wasn’t much better. “It’s to the west of the clearing. And it looks closer than going back.”

  “But what if we don’t find anyone?” Nemo asked.

  “We could get signal,” I said.

  Nemo was looking hesitantly around him, doubtful.

  “It’s our best bet,” Harry squeezed his shoulder.

  “Nemo, it’s the fastest way to get help.”

  He wanted to argue; I could see it in his eyes. But he knew as well as I did that if we were to leave the way we came, it might take too long a time to reach for help. Reluctantly, he nodded.

  “All in agreement that we leave for the road?” Harry asked.

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  The four nodded.

  “No,” I said.

  They whipped their heads so fast, I could swear I heard multiple snaps.

  I hated this part. But what could I do, such is the life of the righteous and the stupid. And I wasn’t really sure which one best described me.

  “Someone has to stay back.”

  Harry set his jaw and looked me in the eyes.

  “Don’t even think about it, knucklehead,” I licked my lips, “I’ll just be standing here, even I can do that much.”

  Donna and Anne were huddled close to each other, holding on to a flashlight and a map. Glancing between me and Harry.

  “He’s right,” Nemo said, his voice as unsure as that of the rest of us. “Someone has to stay back, it’s only fair, we can’t leave a single person alone. Me and Terry will wait for you to come with the police.”

  “Harry,” I practically yelled before he could object. “The faster you go the faster you come back with the police. Don’t make it worse; hurry up now and you’ll be back before it gets too dark.”

  He was shaking his head, but Anne tugged him by his shirt.

  It looked like he cursed under his breath, but he finally nodded.

  “We’ll be fast,” Anne said.

  Reluctantly, then with a sudden rush, their flashlights turned on, they turned around and headed towards the highway to find signal. Before long, night had taken ownership of the sky, and I couldn’t see them anymore.

  I looked at Nemo and breathed out slowly when I realized we only had a single flashlight. “You gonna turn that on?”

  “You don’t like the ambience?” he chuckled but clicked the button anyway.

  A circle of light shone down the grass, and Nemo let it slowly drift towards Jenny’s body.

  I don’t know why he did that, but my curiosity briefly overcame my fright. And since I was already past the point of peeing my pants, I asked him to point it directly on the dead teen.

  It was then that I started noticing things, and more crucially, at what I was actually seeing. Adrenaline made my head light and my hands shake. But I took in all that I could and fought down the sick going up my throat.

  Jenny was dead, there was no denying that. Her nails were chaffed and chipped, her broken elbow poking through her skin, her neck twisted like a fleshy, wrung-out towel. Nemo let the light trail away from her, following a stepped on and flattened track of grass that started beneath her, led towards the other side of the woods, and disappeared behind the gloom of the trees on the edge of the clearing.

  “She was dragged here,” I whispered.

  The woods aren’t safe, I realized as I watched Jenny’s mangled body. It was an animal; it couldn’t be anything other than. The savagery that took her life. No person would be able of such mindless show of force, to bite and rip flesh. But why hide the body so poorly, out in the open? What animal would even leave her body like that? And why didn’t they find it in the morning?

  Suddenly, as I completed that thought, I turned to look up from the trail. The woods were dark, the trees looming like gnarled teeth around us, the wind whistling through the leaves and the swaying grass. Everything sounded much bigger, closer, hostile. My instincts were yelling at me to run, to get as far from this place as I could.

  Nemo nudged me with his elbow.

  “Tt … Terry,” he stuttered, the flashlight shaking in his hand. “Did you see that too?” His voice was pleading for me to refute him.

  I looked over to where he was pointing, but I wasn’t seeing anything. “What is it?” I asked.

  “I … don’t know. A person?” he said, his voice tugged by a frail whimper.

  We looked around us, Nemo sweeping the flashlight from side to side. There really wasn’t anything out there other than what our spooked imagination crafted. I took a step to the side and almost stumbled on the hand of our classmate. My breath caught in my throat, and I fell back on my butt. She was looking at me, her eyes unblinking and unmoving, but so wide and clear.

  She was looking—

  I refused the thought and scrambled backwards before standing up. I wanted nothing more than to leave, to run and go back to wherever there was light and concrete and goddamned living people.

  But we had to wait for the others to come back.

  Why didn’t anyone disagree with me? Why would we need two people to wait behind? Jenny was dead. She wasn’t going anywhere. Only reason someone might worry and keep watch was if they were expecting foul play.

  Me and my big mouth.

  A bulky shadow moved on the edge of my sight.

  I jumped to my feet. It was my turn to nudge Nemo, though it wasn’t really a nudge as much as it was a tackle to the ground. I took him by the waist and sent the both of us off straight into the dirt and grass.

  I felt fur brush over my head as something heavy flew above us and crashed on something; chips and rocks and splinters flew up in the air.

  “Come on,” I breathed and grabbed Nemo from his shirt to force him to his feet.

  We scrambled up and made for the thick without thinking; the flashlight dropped to the ground. I heard a heavy breath, then a rumble and a wheezing growl come loudly from behind me. I couldn’t place the sounds, but I didn’t care to do so, thinking wasn’t a priority concern for me at the time.

  Leaves and branches flew past us as we ran in a hopeless delirium of trunks and shrubs and bushes. The cold wind that struck me in the eyes made me blink, and the snippets of memories I have of me fleeing that night in the woods are blurry and disorganized. Nemo was running next to me, the sound of him hitting his head on a small branch and cussing out every known word to him vivid in my recollection. We continued sprinting even as white lights flashed in front of us. I believe I would have continued till I reached my house had I not practically crashed and fallen on an officer.

  Fear is a hell of a motivator.

  Sergeant Hudson Stone was a big man, his hair dark but for greying temples. He was in charge of the group of policemen that were sent to the clearing through the path we’d taken ourselves; leashed dogs barking as they sniffed the forest ground.

  “Where is she?” he asked, his voice thick.

  I walked over to Nemo, panting and trying hard to catch my breath. My spit was thick and my throat felt clogged. An acidic taste itched from the bottom of my stomach and burned the roof of my mouth. I needed to keep calm, I could barely think, much less coherently form a sentence.

  Nemo had wanted to explain everything, threatening to sound like a raving lunatic. It took us a second, but we somehow got the strength to stand up and point them in the right direction. Or at least, I thought it was the right direction. In the middle of a forest, it was almost impossible to know where you were heading, and night had settled in cleanly.

  “There’s something else,” I decided to say, despite my better judgement. “An animal. I couldn’t see what it was, but it was big. A bear, maybe.”

  He chuckled to himself. “I’ll tell the animal team to prepare a cage then,” he scoffed and continued walking. “A bear in Volpora. Ha! Next thing you’ll tell me is that the Sasquatch attacked you.”

  Sergeant Stone didn’t believe me, of course he wouldn’t.

  I came up to Nemo after we started walking back. “‘The Sasquatch’,” Nemo mimicked the sergeant’s voice. “As if he’s never looked inside a mirror.”

  One side of my mouth crept upwards, it wasn’t the proper time for it but I almost chuckled. Not even the prospect of near death could keep Nemo quiet for too long. There was something oddly annoying when someone didn’t believe you, and though I didn’t have a quip of my own, I couldn’t wait to savor the vindicating feeling of being right to the sergeant’s face. No matter how horrible the scene.

  There was nothing though.

  No Sasquatch, no body, no furry shadow.

  My mouth hung open in disbelief. Anne and Donna and Harry were standing some distance away, the sheriff beside them. They came from both directions, I thought. But where, where is she?

  The police and the sheriff’s department continued searching for what felt like an hour around the plain clearing. There was no sign of the body, much less of an animal. I even told them about the trail of flattened grass, but even that was gone, the blades standing upright as if they’d never been disturbed by anything other than rain and wind.

  We were contained off to the side as things progressed, briefly questioned, then made to wait for our parents to arrive.

  Nemo’s dad had already been there with us, asking the questions. He was professional throughout the whole of it, acting as a sheriff should, fighting back frustration and anger and every other parental urge screaming at him to rip us a new one. But there were limits to his patience, and once in a while he would slip and turn to me or Harry, and especially Nemo, and declare how disappointed or angry he was with us. How stupid it was of us to be here without approval. How mad it made—and then he would breathe and recover the balanced, matter-of-fact tone of his voice.

  One thing I’d noticed though was that the sheriff never outright dismissed us, which had been more than any of us could’ve hoped for. The sheriff constantly jumped around the story we told, trying to discredit it, asking about things we never claimed and events in random order. He was disturbed, clearly trying to find some misstep from any of us in our retelling. Five teenagers sticking to a joke that had been stretched too far was more comfortable an explanation than anything else we might prove right.

  It never occurred to any of us to mention that we’d seen Connor in the woods.

  Slowly, each of our parents came to pick us up, with Anne’s arriving first; Mr. Kinglet would’ve been going eighty on a forty, and I have no doubt about that. He came with fury in his eyes, and he didn’t speak to us—not me, not Harry. He went straight to his daughter, listened to everything the authorities wanted him to hear and made it clear that she wasn’t to leave his sight, he was going to follow behind her as they rode back home and that was that.

  Donna asked Anne’s father if he could drop her off at her house. Her mother, Mrs. Wong, had apparently been called off town for work right after she went to her office that day. She’d gone to a business meeting in Chicago. Mr. Kinglet would get his daughter back home and then drop Donna off to her house, he wasn’t the type of person to refuse a request like that.

  Mine and Harry’s parents arrived not too long after, worried and angered. I didn’t get much of a scolding on the spot, though I knew I would get one the moment we crossed the front door back home. My parents preferred being private about such things.

  In the end, I was last to leave—after Nemo that is. The others slowly filed through the woods and into the cars that would see them home. Each of our friends turned to us and I knew from the quiet way they smiled or shrugged that they were skeptical if they should believe us or not. Unsure how we could both be so overcome with fear that we would flee the scene and run around the woods without a single flashlight to light our way. Donna had looked at me like that when she walked towards Mr. Kinglet’s car, her thin smile was meant to be reassuring but made me feel bitter instead.

  “We’re going home,” my mother said.

  Those words lit an angry spark in me, and I turned to Nemo to show him that. It wasn’t his fault, and I didn’t blame him; it wasn’t any of my friends’ fault either, not Harry’s, not Donna’s. Even Sergeant Stone, who was quick to belittle and make fun of us wasn’t responsible for it. That anger had been pointed at me—the angst of a child’s helplessness.

  I took that feeling with me through the ride home and it made my head hurt. I jumped in bed and fell asleep with a headache that night, tossing and turning in my sheets, losing my restful sleep to nightmares.

  I woke up for what felt like the tenth time that night, tangled amid bedsheets and pillows, my nightmares muddled and thankfully forgettable. It was in the midst of dawn, the sky outside my window so similar to the way I felt in my head: hazy and confused. The morning mist obscure beneath the faint orange sky and purple clouds. It had been a sleepless night, the first of many to come.