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Strangers in a Graveyard
A girl I’d been seeing suggested that, for our third date, we take a bottle of wine, a laptop, and a scary movie to the most remote graveyard we could possibly find. As horror movie aficionados, we both felt jaded and immune to fear… so putting ourselves into the ideal situation for terror sounded like an exciting adventure.
The proposed night came, and she drove us an hour out into deep back-country, heading for a graveyard that we had found in ancient public record… but which was not on any map. When we finally found its supposed location, we ended up having to park three miles away behind some large undergrowth. There had been no other place to turn off along the forested country road. The night air was cool, though, so the walk wasn’t bad.
We walked down a kind of raised ridge of dirt towards the unmarked graveyard, trying not to slip off into the pools of sludge and undergrowth on either side. The trees ringed an open double-hill that led up into darkness, and the century-old gravestones sat about in silence. We set up our laptop on a blanket, unafraid, and started the movie. The atmosphere was powerfully creepy, but I still felt nothing… until the unexpected happened.
Less than ten minutes into the movie, we saw a pick-up truck go by on the country road outside the graveyard. We could see its lights through the trees as it passed – the only vehicle we’d seen that night. We shrugged, thinking nothing of it… until it came back the other way. Its headlights were distinctive. It was definitely the same truck.
When it approached the dirt ridge to the graveyard, moving very slowly, I closed the laptop, and we froze as its headlights fell on us for a moment. The truck backed up, apparently turning around, and then proceeded to park right outside the entrance. We couldn’t be sure if they had seen us, and we certainly had no idea what they were doing… I suggested we pack up, and my date agreed. We had just gathered all of our things when the truck went dark.
We stood there in the pitch black for a few moments, confused. Who was in the truck? Had they seen us? Were they coming this way? There was no other way out of this graveyard… the hill was surrounded by what amounted to impassable swamp. I started imagining how we might escape through it, regardless, but I realized that the attempt would make far too much noise. We’d never make it.
We had no choice. Carrying our stuff, I grabbed her free hand with mine. We crept forward along the dirt ridge, wincing at every dried leaf that our shoes crumpled. I could see the truck’s dark outline parked in our path, but I heard nothing. There was nothing else to do but creep past the truck… which we did slowly, one silent and carefully placed step at a time. I kept trying to discern shapes inside the truck, but saw nothing but darkness. I looked around constantly, but heard and saw nothing. Still, in the pitch black night, I could hardly see the girl I was with, let alone somebody creeping about or following us…
We made it past the truck, but the lack of any incident only increased our fear. Where were the truck’s occupants? What were they doing? They had to be out here somewhere… meaning we were out here in the middles of the night and nowhere, playing a potentially deadly game of hide and seek. My heart pounded even harder as I led her down the road toward our car. Where the hell were they?
We were maybe half a mile down the road when we heard a scream in the woods – and a distant gunshot. In that moment, we both immediately realized what was happening. The truck’s occupants hadn’t been here for us at all – but they would never let us leave if they knew we were here. We both started running in total panic, and actually made it another mile or two before we saw the truck’s distinctive headlights coming up on us.
I grabbed her, jumped off of the road, and dove into the undergrowth and sludge between the trees. We peered through the bushes, waist deep in mud, and watched the truck go by. To our horror, the truck began to slow – I’d dropped the blanket! They’d seen it on the side of the road!
The truck stopped there, only a few feet away, for what seemed like an hour. At any moment, I expected its occupants to get out and come for us… instead, finally, amazingly, it pulled away and sped on down the road. I tried to see its license plate, but couldn’t see anything through the glare of its lights. When I was convinced it was gone, we slogged out, and started walking toward our car again.
It was then that I had a horrible thought – what if they had found her car? What if they were waiting there? I talked it over with her, and we decided to find a good hiding spot in the muddy undergrowth and literally wait the entire night. We had heard a gunshot – this was serious. Neither of our cell phones had reception – there was no choice.
The hours passed, and, the longer we felt safe, the sillier we started to think ourselves. There had to have been another explanation, right? Even if there was something horrible going on in the woods, the truck’s occupants couldn’t have found our car. Or, even if they did, they wouldn’t wait so long, would they? After two hours, we almost talked ourselves out of our cold, horrid hiding place – until I heard a slight sound, like shifting gravel. I peered intensely at the road.
It was the same truck – lights off, engine off, rolling ever so slowly along in the night - waiting, looking, and listening for the fools that almost gave themselves up.
It was noon the next day before we felt safe enough to leave our hiding spot, and begin the confused and terrified walk back to civilization.
Psychosis: Tales of Horror Page 10
