Lori nodded her agreement and walked around the back of the car to the trunk where Stu had packed a tent, two sleeping bags, a cooler that she feared was mostly filled with beer, and a bag with camping supplies. For Lori's contribution, she'd packed only two pairs of clothes, extra socks, her copy of Something Wicked This Way Comes, her planner and a bag of trail mix.
Lori had tried to back out of her agreement to attend the camping trip after she'd come down from her climax, but Stu had given her such a look of frustration that she'd eaten her words and said she'd go.
For three days, Lori had done little more than dread it, barely sleeping at night, silently willing her body to get stricken with the stomach bug that had been circulating at work the week before. Lori had even gone so far as praying the night before for a freak thunderstorm. No such luck.
Friday morning had dawned bright and sunny, with Lori feeling perfectly healthy other than the nausea that stemmed entirely from her nerves.
Ronny and Mitch careened into the dirt parking lot in Ronny's truck. Ronny's girlfriend Ginger was crammed in the seat between him and Mitch.
Six other people they'd worked with at the Steak Pit had already arrived, including Trinity and Heather Stout—sisters who had both waited tables along with Lori, Stu and Mindi—Greg the line cook and Eric, the once-general manager who'd been promoted to regional manager and now oversaw eight Steak Pits. Three additional employees Lori had never met arrived as well.
Eric had organized the trip.
"All right, listen up, team," Eric called, blowing a red whistle that hung around his neck.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me," Stu muttered, much to the delight of a giggling Nicki. "This isn't summer camp, Eric," Stu shouted.
"For real, bro," Mitch joined in.
Eric rolled his eyes. "You're right, Stu. Most of us are well into our thirties these days. Time to grow up, wouldn't you say?"
Stu flipped him the finger and continued drinking from the can of beer he'd already cracked open.
"Anyway," Eric continued. "I brought a bag of these whistles because once we hike in there's a lot of woods and if you step off the trail to pee and get turned around, you'll be glad to have one. The camping bluff is two miles out. Which is why I recommend drinking water right now rather than alcohol." He looked pointedly at Stu. "So you don't get dehydrated. We'll camp tonight and float the river tomorrow. Sound good?"
“Where's the strip club?" Mitch called, grabbing a beer from Stu's cooler and popping the top.
"This is starting to feel like the set-up for a bad horror movie," Mindi murmured, nudging Lori, who nodded tightly in response.
Every ounce of her wanted to walk back to her car and tell Stu she'd pick him up tomorrow. She had a migraine, a stomach ache, a work thing she'd forgotten about. Any excuse would do. She just needed to get out of those woods.
Instead, as the group picked up their stuff, following Eric along the path into the woods, she trudged reluctantly behind.
The further they walked away from the car, the more Lori's muscles tensed and her thighs burned with lactic acid, not from the hike, but from her own clenching.
"Want a beer?" Stu asked her, after he broke away from Mitch and Ronny, or Tweedledee and Tweedledum as Lori thought of them.
She thought of Eric's comment about dehydration and knew of her own tendency to get tipsy off of one beer. She nodded anyway. "Yeah, please." She needed something, anything, to calm the rising panic.
They set up camp on a sandy bluff above the river they'd tube down the following day. Lori erected their tent with little help from Stu, seeing as Nicki had begged Stu to help with her set-up. She simply couldn't figure out how to get the poles into the nylon sheaths.
Mindi joined Lori after helping her boyfriend set up their own tent. "Everything okay?" Mindi asked. "You look pale."
Lori bit her lip, driving a stake into the ground. "Yeah. I'm just… I'm not a big fan of camping."
Mindi's eyes darted toward Nicki and she shook her head. "Don't let her get to you. She flirts with everyone like that."
Lori nodded, though it wasn't Nicki who was getting to her. It was the tall dark trees crowding around the clearing.
"How's work going? You're still at that marketing agency?"
"Yep, Synergy. I’m still working as an HR assistant. It's good—predictable, at least—and I like my co-workers."
"That makes all the difference in the world. I just got promoted to the event director at the retirement home and I have such an amazing staff, not to mention the residents. I couldn't ask for a better job."
"Congratulations on the promotion. That's awesome."
"Yeah, it feels good."
"Hot dogs on the fire over here," Eric yelled. "I brought some veggie dogs too if anyone isn't into meat."
"Sounds delicious." Mindi laughed. "I've got s'more stuff," she called out. "Do you like s'mores?" she asked Lori.
Lori's stomach growled at the thought of the gooey chocolate marshmallow on graham crackers. She'd loved s'mores as a kid, but now they fit into the category of forbidden foods. "No, not really. I'll stick with a hot dog."
After they'd eaten, Eric built a roaring fire. They sat around the fire drinking beer and soda and telling spooky stories.
Stu, already thoroughly intoxicated, kept reaching his hand up the back of Lori's shirt and tickling her. She squirmed away from him, trying not to focus on the long dark shadows pressing in from the forest.
Kurt, or Jafar as Lori had come to think of him with his stringy goatee, stood and leered at the group across the campfire.
"This is a true one," Kurt announced, "but it didn't happen to me. I heard it from my older brother and it happened to one of his buddies back in the day, but it's one that stays with you. His name was Ben, and this happened to his sister, Carmen. One evening, Carmen and her best friend Summer went for a walk in the woods. Ben and Carmen lived in a house about a mile away from the Manistee National Forest, which is like a huge forest on the west side of the state.
“Anybody who grew up near the woods knows it's pretty typical to play in them as a kid and it wasn't any different for Ben and Carmen. Anyway, Carmen and Summer went for a walk in the woods, and Summer had on this bracelet that was like a tambourine. When she shook it, it made those funny clanging sounds."
Lori pulled the sleeves of her sweatshirt over her hands and wrapped her arms across her chest.
"So they're walking and walking and they find this old hut. It was a hunting cabin, but totally rundown—no doors or windows, half collapsed. Summer wanted to go look inside, but Carmen was like, 'Hell, no, that roof will probably fall on our heads.' Summer didn't think so. She went in.
“It was dark in there, so like the minute she stepped inside Carmen couldn't see her anymore. Carmen heard her for a minute, you know, because of that bracelet, and then the sound kind of stopped. Carmen knew Summer was trying to scare her. Summer was like that, so Carmen backtracked a little bit and hid behind a big maple tree.
“A few minutes later, Carmen heard the tambourine sound further away, like Summer had slipped out of the cabin and was maybe trying to sneak up on Carmen. Carmen yelled out, 'I'm over here, Summer.' But Summer didn't answer so Carmen started walking in the direction she'd heard the tambourine, but she didn't hear it anymore and it was getting later and Carmen was someone who freaked out pretty easily so she started screaming Summer's name and crying and really getting worked up.
“Eventually she peaced outta there and went home and got her brother Ben because he was the only one at home. They went back out with flashlights and scoured those woods, but no sign of Summer, so then they called their parents and the police. The police came out and this massive search went on for like two weeks. They never found Summer, but people who searched that night said they kept hearing the sound of this bracelet just for like a second and then it would disappear.”
4
Lori didn't know when she'd stood up, legs spread, hands clu
tching her biceps so tight they'd lost feeling.
"Hey, are you gonna tell a story?" Stu grinned up at her, rubbing her calf.
"Did someone put you up to that?" Lori demanded, glaring at Jafar and then down at her own boyfriend as if he were to blame, which didn't make sense because she'd never told anyone about Beverly Silva. No one after she'd moved away to college.
Jafar wrinkled his forehead. "Uh, no one. Who gave this chick weed? I think the paranoia's kicking in."
The group laughed, and Jafar snickered before sitting.
"The person standing tells the next story," Mitch shouted, laughing and tapping his beer can against Ronny's.
Lori stared at the faces around their fire, searching for who had betrayed her, but they all stared at her expectantly as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening, as if she might start sharing her story at any moment.
Tears threatening, Lori turned and ran back to her tent, yanking the zipper so hard it got caught on the nylon fabric and stuck halfway open.
"Hey." Stu grabbed her shoulder. "What's up? Why are you wigging out?"
Lori's hands shook as she fumbled with the fabric, desperate to get the tent open and climb inside, crawl into her sleeping bag, and shove headphones over her ears. She needed to not be in the woods anymore, but she couldn't leave, not at night, not alone, so she'd do the next best thing, listen to music and fall asleep. In the morning, she was out of there. No way she'd be spending another night in the woods. "I don't want to talk about it. I'm going to bed."
Stu stared at her, not bothering to help with the zipper. "Fine. Whatever," he snapped, turning and stalking back to the bonfire.
Lori woke to the cool damp of early morning in the woods. Gray light trickled beneath the rain flaps on their tent. The interior of the tent stank of beer and cigarettes. Stu had quit smoking years before, but still indulged on nights when he got especially drunk, usually those where Ronny and Mitch were involved.
Lori sat up and wiggled out of her sleeping bag. Stu didn't stir. A low grumbling snore poured from his half-open mouth and he hadn't even bothered climbing into his sleeping bag, but instead collapsed on the top. Lori could see a beer can on its side next to him and wondered if it had been half-full when he'd climbed in and the contents had leaked out during the night. From the smell in the tent, it had.
She got on her knees and unzipped the tent, shoved her head into the damp cool air and sucked in a breath as if she'd been on the verge of suffocating. It smelled of pine and dirt and for half a second a memory of her childhood playing in the woods, camping with her own parents in the years before her dad left, rushed back and enveloped her. They were almost immediately stolen by her final memory of the woods, watching as Bev's sneakers disappeared into the oak tree and then running, terrified, as the shadows lengthened and nightfall approached.
Lori climbed out, not bothering to zip the tent behind her. It needed to air out. Some of her terror from the night before had abated, but not all of it. Pale sunlight broke through some of the overhead clouds and set the leaves and pine needles shimmering, but beyond the sparkling green, the woods were dense and dark, much of it still in shadow as the sun made its leisurely eastern climb.
The group was supposed to go tubing that day, hiking to some spot that Eric knew of where they'd ordered tubes to get delivered for their float down. Lori didn't want to do it. She didn't want to spend another hour in the forest, and though she knew Stu would be mad if she refused to force herself through another day and night in the woods, she would lose it. She'd start ripping down people's tents and screaming and throwing their bags into the river and then not only would she have to leave the woods, Stu would have to leave too so he could check her into a mental institution.
"He'd probably just toss me in the river," she murmured, trying not to examine the thought.
She packed quietly, slipping her clothes into her backpack and zipping it up. She wouldn't bother with her sleeping bag. Stu could manage it.
The next step was the hard part, walking the trail alone back to her car. She stood and surveyed the array of colorful tents. No one else stirred. It was barely seven a.m. and they'd been up late. Stu still hadn't been in the tent when Lori had woken briefly at two a.m. It might be an hour or more before anyone else woke and if she waited for that, they'd try to talk her out of it. Or Stu might wake up and pull the guilt trip on her.
She shook her head, mind made up. She'd go alone. Thirty minutes and she’d be climbing back into her car, the warm leather behind her back, the familiar songs of Annie Lennox on the CD she rarely took out of her player carrying her back to the safe world.
Lori walked out of the campsite, but startled at a rustling sound behind her. She turned to see a small green tent shivering. The door flap fell open. Jafar, the storyteller from the night before, lumbered out in only a pair of boxer shorts. His goatee was matted and his eyes were half open as he stumbled toward the edge of the campsite. She heard the rush of pee on leaves as he relieved himself and noticed the pale top of his butt cheeks. She almost turned away, but then she remembered the story and rushed across the campsite toward him.
"Jafar," she hissed.
The guy yelped and nearly fell forward. He turned to face her. "Jesus. You almost made me fall-face first into my piss," he said, shaking his head. "What did you say? Afar?"
She searched for his actual name. "Kurt. Sorry, I meant to say Kurt. The story you told last night… that was real?"
"Duh. I said it was."
"Well, I need the phone number of Ben. The guy you talked about. Do you have it?"
Kurt yawned and blinked at her. "I'll find it later. I need to catch some more z's."
"No." Lori reached out and grabbed his arm. "I need it now. I have to leave and I need it now."
His eyes widened and he wiggled her hand off. "Fine. Hold on."
He crawled back into his tent and several minutes passed. Afraid he'd fallen back asleep. she started toward the tent.
His arm poked through the flap. "Here, it's on my phone," he grumbled from within the tent.
Lori took out her own cell phone and punched the number into her contacts, saving it under the name 'Ben—Missing Girl.'
"Thanks," she said.
Kurt said nothing, but pulled his arm back in and Lori heard the zipper close the door of his tent.
Tucking her phone into her bag, she started onto the trail that led back to the parking lot. Unlike the campers, the forest was already awake. Birds chirped and called. Squirrels darted across the damp ground, chasing each other across Lori's path. She smiled as some of the tension ballooning in her chest seeped out.
Everything was fine. She was simply taking a short walk in a sunny forest on a Saturday morning. There was nothing to be afraid of.
As she walked, she hummed the tune to Somewhere Over the Rainbow softly to herself. Not all woods were scary. She'd played in the woods for years, often alone, before Bev vanished. She'd never been afraid then. Now she was an adult woman. Even less cause to be afraid.
Even as she told herself these things, she noticed the tiny hairs rising on the back of her neck. She didn't feel alone in the forest. But of course she didn't, she was surrounded by birds and little forest animals. She wasn't alone. But that realization didn't soothe her because the eyes she sensed watching didn't seem like the vaguely curious eyes of an animal. She felt hunted.
Hunted.
The word popped into her head like an ugly hairy spider crawling up from the sink drain while she brushed her teeth. Once the word arose, she couldn't unthink it. It hovered there, danced and twisted and demanded she follow the thought further. Hunting for what? For her?
She quickened her pace and shot a look over her shoulder, then froze when she caught a shadowy figure on the path behind her. She whipped all the way around and realized it was only a tree, but when she turned back forward, she broke into a slow jog.
It was early and she’d not had even a sip of water, let alone given her m
uscles time to warm up. A cramp immediately seized her side and she massaged it while she ran, her backpack flopping wildly on her back, her breath bursting from her mouth. She gulped for air and sensed the eyes travelling over her, getting closer, slipping through the woods silently… hungry.
Her body felt like the body of fourteen-year-old Lorraine from fifteen years before. Side cramping, gulping for breath, barely able to keep her legs pumping as terror seized her.
She tried to repeat the mantra ‘there's no one there,’ but the word ‘hunted’ popped in—ugly and looming and more real than any comforting lie she told herself.
Through the trees, she spotted the color red. It was the top of someone's pickup truck in the parking lot. She ran harder, fingers jammed into her side to lessen the pain. The lot came fully into view. She saw her own car ahead and then a hooded figure stepped from behind a tree.
5
Lori screamed and jumped back as the figure lifted their head. It was a man who looked at her, surprised, and gave a start of his own. He swept the hood back from the puff of white hair on his head.
"Sorry, miss. Gave you a scare, did I?"
Lori stared, words evading her, and gave him a little nod.
"Just out here trying to catch the morning fish." He leaned over the side of a little gray pickup and pulled out a pole and tackle box. "Stream’s about a quarter mile yonder if you'd like to join me."
"No, thank you," Lori stammered, hurrying to her car. "Sorry I screamed."
The man shrugged. "Gives you the willies when you think you're strolling through the woods alone and find out you're not. Have a good morning."
“Thanks. You too." Lori climbed into her car, dropped her backpack on her passenger seat and released a long shuddering breath.
It was a relief to be in the car, but she still wanted to put more distance between herself and the forest. She started her Prius and peeled out, sending a plume of dust into the air as she made for the highway.
Darkness Stirring: A Troubled Spirits Novel Page 3
