The Last Family Road Trip

by Matthew S. Cox

  My family returns around three to ‘collect’ me for a hike, so I stop the movie, put my shoes back on, and head outside. After everyone takes a turn at the bathroom, Dad puts on his giant green backpack and leads us off on a trail that goes north and east. The last time I saw him wear that thing, I was around eleven or so and we went camping (for real, no RV) somewhere in Colorado. All I remember from that trip is jumping into a lake so damn cold I crawled right back out—once the paralysis wore off—and refused to swim again the entire trip. That, and Mom going nuts trying to control a four-, three-, and two-year-old out in the wilderness.

  Wrangling toddlers is why we didn’t go camping again until now. And, neither of my parents are what you’d call ‘outdoorsy types.’ My dad could paddle a kayak in a kiddie pool and still wind up suffering a serious injury.

  Anyway, it is kinda nice to walk in nature with the family. My condition has caused me to re-evaluate my relationship with rain. I used to hate getting wet when not in a bathing suit. Today’s cloud cover is so thick I don’t even feel like I’m in the desert. Risking a drenching in the rain is much better than baking alive. Not like I’ll catch a cold if my clothes are soaked.

  Since there’s no one near enough to overhear us, I tell everyone about the brothers sniffing around the RV, suspecting I’m a vampire. And about the ring making them believe there’s one in the area.

  “So make them forget you exist,” says Sierra. “Why are you stressing out over it?”

  “I dunno. They seem mostly harmless. It almost feels like kicking a tiny dog for growling at me. All they’re going to do is make noise. Not a real threat.”

  “They seem like reasonably nice people,” says Dad. “Mr. Peters is a little intense though. And the wife is…”

  “A space cadet,” mutters Mom. “But not in a mean way. She kind of reminds me of your Aunt Jody.”

  Dad chuckles. “My mother’s sister…. I still remember her going on about pyramid power and crystals.”

  The littles all laugh.

  “Yeah,” I say, “but there might actually be something else around here. That ring is picking up something in the cavern that isn’t me. And I saw a… thing on the wall.”

  “I remember. But we couldn’t see it,” says Sierra. “Was it a lever?”

  “No, more of a”—I scratch my head—“What do you call a funny glowing mark?”

  “Glyph?” asks Dad. “Maybe sigil?”

  “Yeah.” I point at him. “One of those. Only I could see it, so I think it’s something supernatural.”

  Sophia emits a faint whimper.

  “It’s okay, Soph. Don’t panic,” says Sam.

  “But we’re too far away for Aurélie to protect us.” Sophia flails her arms. “If there’s another vampire here, they might eat us.”

  Mom takes her hand. “There’s nothing to worry about. Sarah will protect you.”

  “It might not even be a vampire.” Sam looks around. “It could be some other kind of monster.”

  Sophia gasps.

  “You’re not helping,” mutters Sierra.

  “Maybe there’s a bigfoot around here.” Sam shrugs. “Hey, can bigfoots become vampires?”

  “Only if Rich is running the game,” mutters Dad.

  “Huh?” asks all the littles (and me) at once.

  Dad stops and checks his map. “Hmm. This should be Eastside Trail.”

  “Who’s Rich?” I ask.

  “Oh.” He chuckles. “When I was your age, I played D&D, and—”

  “You still do,” says Sierra.

  Dad pats her on the head. “Yes, but nowhere near as often. Anyway, this guy Rich sometimes ran, and things always got weird.”

  “I don’t understand,” says Sophia.

  “It’s really not worth explaining,” mutters Sierra.

  “It’s actually funny.” Dad grins.

  “Yes, but as long as it would take you to explain it in a way for Soph to understand it, it wouldn’t be funny anymore.” Sierra taps a finger to her chin. “The guy making up the story did a lot of dumb things like vampire sasquatches or—”

  “Blink wooly-mammoths,” says Dad with an eye roll.

  “Okay, now I’m confused.” Sierra squints up at him.

  Dad points, then continues walking down a branching path. “You know blink dogs?”

  “Dogs that can teleport short distances,” says Sam.

  “Right. Well, same thing but a giant hairy elephant.” Dad sighs.

  “That’s stupid.” Sophia scrunches up her face.

  “Exactly!” says Dad and Sierra at the same time.

  Mom and I exchange the same sort of look we always exchange when the gamers start talking their own language.

  Portions of the trek are nasty uphill slogs, but we eventually find ourselves among thick forest. It’s not dark enough for me to ‘go online,’ but the gloom of an overcast sky plus tree cover gets to Sophia, putting her on edge. I’m sure Sam bringing up sasquatch has put that idea in her head. Or maybe she’s wary of mountain lions.

  We stop here and there, mostly so Dad can point out some plants that don’t grow around home—not that he’s into botany or anything. Guess he figures this is somewhat educational. Whenever she spots an interesting bit of scenery, Mom poses us for photos. It’s a little annoying having her behave like I’m a kid again, but I tolerate it.

  At one such moment, I’m in front of a giant rock with the sibs standing on it, a faint series of crunching footsteps approaches us from behind. Whoever it is keeps far enough back that I don’t panic, but Sophia clamps onto my side and whimpers.

  “Hey, relax,” I say. “This is a public campground. It’s probably more hikers.”

  She peers up at me with the same wide-eyed cute face as the kitten on her ‘SMOL’ dress. “Umm. Yeah. You’re probably right. Not sure why I’m so scared.”

  “Because we were talking about scary monsters living in the cave,” says Sierra before making an eerie ‘OoOooowOoo’ noise.

  “Stop teasing your sister,” deadpans Mom while taking the picture.

  “Was that supposed to be a werewolf howling or Dad stubbing his toe?” asks Sam.

  Sierra raspberries him. Dad raises an eyebrow, but laughs.

  I watch the woods in the direction of the noises for a minute or so, but nothing catches my eye. Content that no imminent danger stalks us, we resume walking along the trail. Sam gazes around as if he’d never seen trees before. Sierra complains intermittently about how we’ll be stuck out in the middle of nowhere when the downpour starts, and Sophia jumps at every snap or rustle in the woods. It does kinda sound like someone’s following us, but I don’t see anything.

  “The monster’s coming,” whispers Sophia.

  “It can’t be,” I mutter. “Sun’s still out.”

  “It is?” mutters Sophia. “Could’a fooled me.”

  “Not online yet,” I say. “So it can’t be a vampire.”

  Sam jumps up on a fallen tree and walks it like a balance beam. “Doesn’t have to be a vampire in the cave. It could be a bear. Or a werewolf bear.”

  “There’s no such thing.” Sierra rolls her eyes.

  “It’s probably just the stupid Frog brothers stalking their vampire,” I mutter.

  Dad laughs.

  “Seriously.” I huff. “They’re even from California.”

  This is too much for my father, who needs to lean on a tree until he’s no longer cackling like an idiot.

  “Those two suspect something’s weird, huh?” asks Sophia.

  Sierra makes a fist. “They better not try anything. Sare would kick their asses.”

  “The heavy tint on the window made them suspicious, but I told them my dad runs with some inner-city Seattle gangs. They’re so badass they don’t even put cream in their espresso.”

  Mom’s sudden laugh sounds like someone drop-kicked a chicken.

  “Wow, I’m not sure I’m that tough. No creamer in espresso? Those are some bad dudes.” Dad snickers
, then continues walking.

  Noises follow us for another few minutes, then stops. Sierra and Dad theorize everything from curious deer to mountain lion to bear scoping us out. I still think it’s the brothers. Though, if it is them, they’re a lot better at stealth than I gave them credit for. Granted, I’m no woodland survival expert, so maybe they sound much closer than they are. Again, assuming it’s them and not some other group out hiking. We’re hardly the only two families here.

  A little after five, Dad homes in on a nice little clearing in sight of a creek. “This looks like a good spot.”

  “What for?” asks Sierra. “It looks like everywhere else.”

  “Figured we’d do the campfire dinner thing at least once since we’re supposed to be camping,” says Dad.

  “Umm.” I fidget. “Don’t be offended if I sit back a bit from the fire.”

  “You’re flammable?” asks Sophia, wide-eyed.

  I giggle. “No more than any other person really, but it’s a little scary since it can kill me.”

  “Right.” Dad nods. “No bonfire then.”

  “Don’t let him near the lighter fluid,” fake-whispers Sierra while not-so-subtly pointing at Dad.

  He sets his hands on his hips. “I am not that bad.”

  “He’s not,” says Sam. “My eyebrows did grow back.”

  “Hey!” Dad points at him. “I told you not to stand that close.”

  Everyone laughs, even Mom. It’s such a pure moment with the family it’s almost possible to stop feeling like there’s something in the woods watching us.

  Almost.

  12

  Night Eyes

  Dad sets up a pit for a campfire while Mom rummages the backpack and pulls out a Tupperware container of shish kabobs. Sophia takes her sneakers and socks off and roams around for a little while before testing the creek with a toe.

  She squeals at the cold, but it’s evidently not too cold as she steps in. Sam’s disappointed at the lack of swimming, but the creek’s barely eight inches deep in the middle. Dad sends us out to find wood. Sophia continues playing in the creek instead of searching, though the ’rents don’t say anything to her.

  Five minutes into Operation Kindling, Sierra shouts, “Soph, help look for wood.”

  “I don’t have shoes on and my feet are wet.”

  “Convenient,” says Sierra to one in particular before looking up at me. “Bet she knew Dad was gonna do that. Ugh, there’s—” She jumps back, with a “Gah!”

  I don’t need to ask, since the red glare from my eyes tinted her face.

  She clamps a hand over her heart. “You just scared the crap out of me.”

  “What? You’ve seen that before.”

  Sierra blows out a forced sigh of relief. “Yeah, but not quite so close. You look kinda scary for a sec.”

  “Well, let’s hope the cave monster thinks so.” I grin.

  “Is there really something down there or were you only trying to scare Soph?”

  “There’s… something. I don’t know what it is, but that kid’s ring legit glows like magic. Also got the weirdest feeling whatever’s down there knows I’m here.”

  “Thanks for that. Now I’m not going to sleep again until we go home.”

  I ruffle her hair. “Haven’t seen anything yet. If it is a vamp, it’s not one that can go out during the day. I’m sure it didn’t see me.”

  “Did you feel a vampire around?”

  “No, just a weird energy in the air.”

  She picks up a two-inch thick branch. “Then it probably didn’t sense you either.”

  “That makes sense.” I spot a sizable rotten log and trot over to it. After making sure it isn’t a hornets’ nest, I sprout claws for a better grip, sink them into the wood, and haul the five-foot-long thing into the air.

  “Show off,” mutters Sierra, grinning. “Imagine the vamp you could stake with that sucker.”

  “Ouch.”

  I plod after her back to the campsite, which isn’t too far off. Sam’s presenting his find—a handful of twigs. Sierra holds up her branch, and Dad nearly faints when he sees me coming with half a tree.

  Mom’s face pales. She stares, wordless, as I carry it to a spot about ten paces from where Dad made the fire pit and drop it with a thud that startles birds out of trees.

  “That’s a little, umm, big,” says Dad.

  “I got it covered.” Between clawing and ripping, I break off a couple of hunks good enough for a basic cooking fire.

  Dad cuts Sierra’s branch into a few sections and uses Sam’s little twigs and such for kindling.

  We sit around for a while watching Dad build a fire. Only, I’m not sure if campers are allowed to have fires out here. My father’s not a rule breaker, but he’s not above doing without asking then claiming ignorance. At least the stream’s right there.

  “Soph!” yells Mom. “Don’t drink that.”

  My sister freezes, cupped hands a few inches away from her mouth. “Why?”

  “It’s not safe. Microbes or who knows what in it. We brought water.” Mom waves her over.

  She drops her handful of water and makes her way to the campsite, taking a seat in the grass by Mom. Eventually, my parents and siblings are all holding their shish kabobs over the fire. Sophia’s got a custom one with tofu blocks instead of alternating beef and chicken. I break my own rule and sit maybe nine feet away, cross-legged on the ground.

  “We’re not gonna have to like sleep out here in tents, are we?” asks Sophia, her voice shaky.

  “Nope.” Dad smiles. “There’s only so much room in that pack. We’ll be going back to the RV after we eat.”

  “Whew.” Sophia wipes ‘sweat’ off her forehead. “I don’t wanna be eaten by a mountain lion.”

  Since we’re sitting around a campfire in a dark forest at night, the urge to tell a ghost story comes out of nowhere.

  “You know, I heard someone back at the RV area last night talking about there might be a haunt out here in the woods.”

  Sophia gasps. Sierra gives me a ‘yeah right’ smirk. Sam appears to ignore me, staring intently at his shish kabob cooking.

  “This guy said like sixty years ago, a bunch of college kids came out here and tried to spend the night. No one really knows what happened to them. All they ever found were ripped up tents and blood. But every now and then people who come out here can sometimes hear people walking around when there isn’t anyone there. He also said you can sometimes see a ghostly green campfire, but it’s never there if you try to walk up to it.”

  Sophia shivers. Sierra’s blasé attitude is gone, her expression ‘non-panicking-concerned.’ Sam keeps turning his food over in the flames.

  “The guy I was listening to said he came out here when he was like twelve and someone told him about the story. So he and his friend walked up around this area at night looking for a ghost. It got real quiet all of a sudden. Like all the birds stopped chirping and all the insects shut up at the same time. Then, he felt like someone was behind him, walking closer… every step making a crunch.” I lean forward, raising my hands like I’m creeping up to grab someone. “He knew the ghosts were right there, right about to grab him, but he was too scared to move—or even look behind him.”

  Silent tears roll out of Sophia’s eyes. Sierra’s gone pale, staring over the fire at me. Whoa. I haven’t seen her that frightened since she was like five and had a nightmare. Sam’s also looking at me with both eyebrows up. Mom’s also shivering a little, and Dad stares at me, his mouth hanging open.

  “Umm. Oops. Sorry guys… I think I might’ve been affecting your emotions by accident. Didn’t mean it.”

  “No,” whispers Sophia, trembling. “There’s something behind you watching us with glowing red eyes.”

  I whirl around and stare at a large humanoid figure half hidden behind a tree about thirty feet away. Before I get much more than a half-second’s look at him, he trucks off into the woods. The dude’s like NFL linebacker sized and running way
too fast for me to feel any urge to go after him. Any ‘creature in the woods’ intending to be dangerous wouldn’t haul ass like that from little old me.

  “What is it?” asks Sophia.

  “Either a WWE wrestler is really lost, or this campground has a sasquatch.”

  “I don’t see anything,” says Mom.

  “Duh.” Sierra glances at her. “Sarah’s got night vision.”

  I turn back to my family and check the thoughts of all three siblings. To them, the forest appears pitch black. They only spotted a pair of glowing eyes. Nothing in their heads suggests their thoughts had been tampered with or touched, though I don’t think peering at surface thoughts is noticeable to the victim. He may or may not have tried knocking on my brain, but without eye contact, I don’t think it’s possible. According to Aurélie, it’s a real pain in the ass to invade another vampire’s head. She can do it, but she’s older than hell and mental manipulation is like her specialty. Then again, I’m still not entirely sure what I’m dealing with. I know vampires exist, but that doesn’t prove other stuff doesn’t.

  “Where’d he go?” asks Sierra.

  “Gone. Ran like hell.” I look around, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

  “I wanna go back to the RV,” says Sophia. “I’m scared.”

  “Umm, the RV’s walls aren’t that thin. A sasquatch could break in pretty easy.” Sam shrugs and nibble-tests his food. Satisfied, he takes a real bite.

  Sophia bursts into tears.

  “Hey Sare,” asks Sierra. “Could you kick Bigfoot’s ass?”

  My turn to shrug. “No idea. Are sasquatch even real?”

  “Sasquatches,” says Sam.

  “That’s not a word,” says Sophia, still a hint of whimper in her voice. “Sasquatch is an irregular plural like deer or fish.”

  “Book nerd,” says Sierra.

  Sophia sticks her tongue out. “Geek.”

  “Nerd.” Sierra grins. “And Sare could totally kick its ass.”