by Tobias Wade
By the time I reached the shore, I thought it was possible that I was dreaming again. Because there was no way I was on solid land again. If it were real, I would have drowned in the ocean just like everyone else thrown into the ocean alongside me.
As I crawled flat against the coarse sand and up to where the rock formation started, I felt the faintest flicker of hope.
If I was dreaming, that meant I would wake up in the desert in the back of a campervan. My sticky body would be pressed against Natalia. We would be safe and far away from the ocean.
Then, just as I had hoped, I woke up. It seemed like no time had passed at all. Sand was everywhere. But I was in no desert. My naked body was soaked and scratched all over. I heard the waves crash behind me and the water rise up against my toes before falling again. The brown cliff walls, towering over the beach lay in front of me.
It had been no dream.
J. Speziale
Scarecrow
It was early Wednesday morning. My phone buzzed on my bedside table.
2:30 AM
Dylan: Hey, I just parked my car, heading to the trail now.
Me: You’re crazy man, how cold is it?
Dylan: Not bad actually. 30s. You gotta come out here soon! It’s beautiful.
Me: Ha! We’ll see in Spring when it warms up. Have fun man, and be careful.
Dylan: You know I’ll be fine :)
My old college roommate, Dylan, lives just outside of Denver. Like most Colorado natives, he loves to camp. He’s the crazy kind of camper who does it all year, even in December.
Whenever he goes to the mountains alone, I have him check in with me just in case.
I was surprised when he texted me again. He usually just sends me a text or two when he arrives, and when one when he leaves. Just so I know he is okay.
7:44 AM
Dylan: Dude... r u up?
Me: Yes sir, you okay?
Dylan: This is so weird. I woke up this morning, and there’s someone else out here?
Me: On the mountain? Looks like you’re not the only Winter camper.
Dylan: No… Not a camper. I can see them on the horizon, but they haven’t moved. Like at all.
Me: What?
Dylan: I don’t know it definitely looks like a person but, they haven’t moved. They’re probably 300 yards away—standing completely still.
Me: That’s super creepy, Dylan. Keep me updated.
9:19 AM
Dylan: They still haven’t moved. I made breakfast over the fire and acted like I didn’t notice anything. I’m going check it out.
Me: Okay… lemme know. Maybe it’s a stump or something?
9:33AM
Dylan: Dude...
Dylan: It’s a fucking scarecrow.
Me: What? Like a farmer’s scarecrow?
Dylan: Ya man, what other kind of scarecrows are there? Its clothes are weird though.
Me: Weird?
Dylan: The clothes are modern. Its wearing a nice black jacket and blue jeans. Its face is kind of scary looking. Burlap sack with black eyes and a stitched-on mouth. Why is this thing out here? I’m tempted to steal its jacket…
Dylan: I posted a picture of it online if you want to see what it looks like.
Me: Dylan, I’d leave it alone. Maybe it’s some sort of conservation study or something? Like to see if bears will attack it? You might be on camera. And I know you have drugs on you...
Dylan: Ha! Good point. It’s probably nothing. Speaking of drugs, it’s about that time.
Me: Have fun! Haha.
I checked Dylan’s picture of the scarecrow. He wasn’t lying. It was terrifying. The hollow, black eyes and stitched frown gave it a sinister look. The clothes fit surprisingly well on the stuffed burlap body. The scarecrow stood about seven feet tall, supported by a large wooden cross staked in ground. It was strange, but I didn’t think too much of it.
The chiming of my phone woke me up. Adjusting my eyes to the bright screen, I opened my phone to discover another text from Dylan.
3:33 AM
Dylan: Someone is outside my tent.
Me: Oh I’m sure. Come on man it’s like 3 am here, you woke me up.
Dylan: Please this is serious! I can see their shadow.
Me: Call the police Dylan!
Dylan: No! I don’t want to make any noise. They probably think I’m asleep. I have my knife. I’m texting inside my sleeping bag so they can’t see the light from my screen.
Dylan: I thought I heard a noise and I woke up. I guess I didn’t zip up my tent all the way, and I assumed it was the wind. But then I saw the silhouette.
Me: Should I call the police for you!? Where are you? Send me your latitude and longitude now!
Me: Dylan!!!!??? Please respond and drop a pin on my phone so I know where you are.
My heart was pounding. I paced around my room in the darkness in an attempt to come up with a plan. If I contacted Denver PD, I would have no idea what to tell them. My friend is camping somewhere outside of Denver and he thinks he’s in trouble? If he was in actual danger, I didn’t want to call his phone if he was pretending to be asleep. Maybe someone was just rummaging through his cooler, or maybe it was a bear?
The hours waiting to hear from him felt like days. Then, he finally called me.
6:56 AM
Me: Dylan! Are you okay!?
Dylan: I'm alright.
Me: Thanks for finally responding!!! I almost had a heart attack. Barely slept. I was going to call the police or ranger station but I still don’t where you are.
Dylan: There’s something weird though...the scarecrow is right outside my tent. Someone put it there last night while I was asleep. That’s the shadow I saw. I don’t like this at all.
Me: Go home Dylan, seriously. That’s messed up even if it’s a joke.
Dylan: I’m about four miles from my car. I’ll text you when I get back to it. Also, I forgot to mention something.
Me: What?
Dylan: My hat was on top of the scarecrow this morning. Someone must have gotten into my tent last night while I was asleep, and put my hat on its head…
Me: You need to get out of there.
Dylan: I agree. I’ll text you when I get back.
I was sitting down to breakfast when my phone chimed.
9:13 AM
Dylan: Oh shit....Someone slashed my tires.
Me: Please tell me you’re calling the police.
Dylan: Hang on, I’m going to see how bad of shape the car is in, and yes I’m calling them.
Me: Alright let me know ASAP!
Me: What’s going on?
Dylan: Will text later. Not safe.
Me: Dylan! Please let me know what’s going on!
A few hours later, my phone rang:
Dylan: Alright, I have a second to catch you up, but I have to keep my voice low. This is so messed up dude. I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to be here. Also my iPhone is dying and I’m going to have to switch over to the shitty flip phone I use for work.
Me: Dylan, what do you mean by not safe?
Dylan: So I went to try and start my car, to get a quick charge on my iPhone, and see how bad the tires were. The engine wouldn’t even turn over. I called the police and told them about the car, and that I was stuck. They transferred me to the ranger station to explain where I was for assistance. That’s when it got weird.
Me: What do you mean?
Dylan: The ranger seemed pretty lax about it at first, saying things like “Where are you? Stay calm, we’ll send help, just stay where you are, etc.” Monotone voice like he’s used to it. But then I mentioned the scarecrow… and the ranger was different…
Me: Different?
Dylan: He became really serious and panicked.
He proceeded to act out the conversation.
Ranger: “Did you say scarecrow?”
Dylan: “Yes sir”
Ranger: “I
need you to listen to me carefully.”
Dylan: “Okay”
Ranger: “I have some bad news. I’m in my truck now, and I was headed your way. The old bridge leading into your trail is partially collapsed and impassible. We’re not sure how it happened, but we have emergency crews working on it now. I need you to start moving this instant. Right now you are at the north side of the mountain, and I need you to go to the south face. That’s where we’ll meet.Do you have a compass and map?”
Dylan: "Yes sir."
Ranger: "Good. All right, here is the exact point to meet." (He explained where to go.)
Ranger: “That’s the exact point where I will meet you. DO NOT STAY WHERE YOU ARE! Get away from your car. Most importantly DO NOT hang around any of those scarecrows. Do you understand me? If you see any more, I want you to run as fast as you can away from it. Clear?”
Dylan: “Scarecrows? So there’s multiple? How many are there?”
Ranger: “I need you to keep moving.”
Dylan: “What’s going on? Am I in danger? What does the scarecrow have to do with anything?”
Ranger: "Listen, just keep moving while the sun is up, and make as little noise as possible. Are you wearing bright clothing?"
Dylan: “Uhhh no I’m not. I have a dark brown coat and grey pants.”
Ranger: “Good. Try and stay out of plain sight as much as possible. Move quickly, and call me if you see or hear anything unnatural.”
Dylan: “Unnatural?”
Ranger: “You’ll know. But only make phone calls if absolutely necessary. When night falls, stay warm and hidden. NO FIRES. If you hear anything in the night, DO NOT RUN. Stay as still and quiet as possible.“
Dylan: “Wait—will you tell me what I should be looking for?”
Ranger: “Get moving south, NOW!”
Dylan: “Wait…I…”
Dylan: Then he just hung up.
Me: Where are you now?
Dylan: Moving south. There’s creepy stuff going on.
Me: What do you mean?
Dylan: I walked by the spot where my campsite was last night. The scarecrow… it wasn’t there.
Me: Just gone?
Dylan: Yes. Nothing at all.
Me: I… I’m so sorry you’re going through this. My eyes are watering just reading your texts.
Dylan: I hate this, I just want to go home.
Me: You have to do what the ranger said, and we'll get you out of there. Do you have data on your work phone?
Dylan: No, just talk and text.
Me: Of course you don’t. Plenty of battery?
Dylan: Yes, thank God.
I felt hopeless at this point. I wanted to help my friend, I just didn’t know what else I could do besides wait for him to contact me.
3:03 PM
Dylan: I’m exhausted and scared as hell. Still making my way to the other trail on the south side to meet the ranger.
Me: Keep moving.
3:44 PM
Dylan: I see the scarecrow! The one from my camp. It’s up in a tree. Wayyy up in a tree. Dude, fuck how did it get so high up there?
Me: Send me a picture!
Dylan: I can’t get a good shot. It’s so high up and this camera sucks. It’s just hanging there, it looks like it’s staring at me. I’m so freaked out and tired. Something is dripping off of it.
Me: Get away from it Dylan!
4:17 PM
Dylan: The sun’s about to set. I’m going to find a place to sleep.
Me: Okay, please keep me updated!
Hours went by. I still hadn’t heard from him. I decided it couldn’t hurt to send a text.
11:07 PM
Me: Dylan? Are you okay? Text me back when you can. I don’t want to waste your battery.
Dylan: It’s getting closer.
Me: What is?
Dylan: Fuck…it’s right next to me. I’m going to make a run for it. It’s…it’s too close.
Me: Please tell me you’re okay! What is it!?
Me: Dylan? I’m going to call the police! What happened!?
Me: I called the police. They are looking for you at the south face. Where the ranger said he would meet you. Please, please, please tell me you made it.
Me: Dylan???
I spoke with the police, and they informed me they had a search party looking for Dylan. I couldn’t take it. I wanted to be there for my friend. I assumed the worse. Then, around 3 a.m., my phone chimed. I had a voicemail from his phone. What I heard sent a chill down my spine. The sound of rustling wind and crunching of leaves burst through my phone’s speaker for at least a minute. Then I heard what I feared the most, the ear-piercing screams of Dylan begging for his life. Then… silence.
That was the last I heard from him.
I immediately called the Denver authorities. In a state of shock, I was eventually able to explain all that I knew. I was transferred to the ranger’s station, and they arranged for me to come to the station. I was on the next flight out.
After I got my luggage, I rented a small truck and drove to the ranger station. As soon as I arrived, I was escorted to a back room. I assumed the man was the same ranger that had talked to Dylan. He was a lanky, disheveled man with shaggy, black hair and pale white skin. He reeked of smoke and looked like he hadn’t slept in years. I sat down across from him. He placed his hat on the table, lit a cigarette, and spoke.
“We called you down here because, at first, we needed your phone as part of the investigation, but I’m afraid that is no longer necessary.” His raspy voice was tattered and broken. His clothes shared the same features.
“What happened?” I asked quietly.
He took a drag from his cigarette and spoke.
“I’m sorry, but—I cannot discuss any details at the moment. You need to leave this to the professionals. We will do everything we can to find your friend.”
Anger pulsed through my body.
“That’s bullshit!” I said with tears welling in my eyes. I started to stand, only to have the ranger grab my wrist and motion for me to sit back down. He looked me in the eyes and spoke.
“I’m so sorry, but we cannot have civilians interfering. We need you to stay safe and out of the way.”
I interrupted, “I got text messages from his phone right after I landed! Something happened to him!”
The ranger raised his voice.
“I know this is hard. We are looking into all possibilities, but we do not believe there has been any foul play. Teenagers in the area have been known to play pranks on lone campers. You are more than welcome to help us with reports. I know how hard it is to lose a friend...”
My anger started to peak. “Oh and these teenagers slash tires, and attack people!?”
He took another long drag from his cigarette before he responded. “I promise we are working night and day. I think the best thing to do is stay off the trails and be there for his family and—”
I couldn’t even let him finish his sentence. I was too upset. I stormed out, and he didn’t attempt to stop me. I knew that was all bullshit. What was he trying to keep from me? I had evidence that Dylan was being followed by someone or something. I went to the only place I was familiar with in the area… Dylan's apartment. I still remembered his door code from the last time I had visited. The world seemed quiet as I drove. I had never felt so alone.
The apartment was eerily quiet. I was overcome with feelings of fear and sadness. As soon as I saw a picture of Dylan in the kitchen, I couldn't help it. I had to cry. Eventually I collected myself, opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. I downed it in a few gulps. I needed to sit and think. As I got up to throw the empty beer away, I saw something in Dylan’s kitchen. His Colorado map. I had forgotten all about it. Dylan used this large topographical map to keep track of all the places he trekked. The map was riddled with black thumbtacks and a few white ones. Dylan's method was simple. Black thumbtacks for the areas he had already
explored, and white for his upcoming adventures. I wrote down the coordinates of the white markers. I searched through Dylan’s apartment, and collected the remaining camping gear. I grabbed a wooden baseball bat from his closet as well.
I knew where to go.
I loaded the truck, tossing the supplies in the truck bed, and headed to the mountain. It was a long drive. I passed the old bridge on the way, and didn’t notice any sign of recent construction.
Ten minutes later, I pulled up next to Dylan’s car. It was eerie to see the yellow police tape wrapped tightly around the body of his white sedan. It made the situation all too real. As soon as I parked the pickup, I dropped a pin on my phone.
After what seemed like an eternity of hiking, I reached the point on the map that Dylan had marked, and I got to work setting up camp. Night began to fall. I constructed my tent and placed a sleeping bag inside. As soon the sun had set, I lit a large fire and quietly snuck away from the camp. I took cover in the trees about a hundred yards away, cracked open an energy drink, and kept my eyes glued on the tent.
Just as I started to nod off, I heard rustling in the leaves, but I chalked it up to the wildlife. I was exhausted, cold, and trying to stay awake. I downed my last bit of caffeine. Around 3 a.m. I saw something. Walking towards the tent. It was man. With a flashlight he started looking around my decoy camp site. He noticed no one was in the tent and illuminated the surrounding woods with his flashlight. The light flashed rapidly around the trees. Luckily he didn’t see me. About twenty minutes later the man left and headed south. I followed. I took off my shoes in an attempt to walk as quietly as possible. I threw on a couple more pairs of wool socks from my backpack, and kept my distance. I continued to follow him, taking countless turns in the dark. The man appeared to be wandering, illuminating the ground in front of him as he walked.
He finally stopped near a pile of leaves—tripping on something beneath. The man started brushing away the leaves.
Then I saw his face… It was the park ranger. I almost called out to him, but covered my mouth at the last moment.
