by Amy Cross
It takes a couple of hours to reach the second observation hut, but when I finally get there the result is the same. There's nothing on the tape and nothing on the audio recorder either, and I stop for a moment in the doorway, staring out at the forest as I try to understand how a vast forest such as this can suddenly become so empty. Sure it's peaceful, but I remember when I first came here and I used to see wild rabbits hopping between the trees, and birds would call down from tree branches high above. Grabbing the shovel from nearby, I start digging, hoping against hope that at least beneath the soil there'll be some sign of life, maybe some worms or beetles, but in truth I already know how this is going to go. Life is retreating in every direction, as if something in the forest is scaring it all away.
Glancing across the clearing, I half expect to see someone or something watching me, but of course there's nothing out there. I can feel the presence, but for whatever reason it still seems reluctant to show itself.
After making some more notes, I set off for the third observation station. My mind is filled with daydreams about the situation out here, to the extent that by the time I get to the next station and let myself inside, I've already assumed that the results here will be the same. As I start logging into the laptop, however, I notice a blue light on the trigger mechanism, which means that something must have triggered the camera to make a recording during the night. Bringing up the report screen, I see a single file with a duration of half a minute, and I immediately start to load it into the media player. I know it's probably nothing, that there was probably just a falling leaf that fooled the sensor, but I've seen just enough strange sights on these tapes over the past few months to know that there's a chance...
When the video starts, I feel a cold shiver running up my back as I watch the shot of the forest at night, bathed in the green light of the night-vision system. In the bottom right corner of the screen, a code reports the time as being a little after 4am, but as the seconds tick past I start to realize that most likely this was a false alarm. After all, there's no sign of anything on the screen and I've become accustomed to these empty files that never reveal their trigger. Leaning against the cold wooden wall, I watch as the video reaches its halfway point and then -
Suddenly I see it.
Leaning closer, I realize that a figure has come into view at the far reaches of the frame, watching the cabin. The filter makes the image a little fuzzy, but I can make out the figure's dark skin, which due to the way the night-vision operates must actually be very pale and white in reality. The eyes, meanwhile, are particularly noticeable, and I can't help feeling that this figure, whoever it is, must be fully aware of the fact that it's being recorded. In fact, I feel as if over the past few months it has been deliberately showing itself like this, letting me know that it's here while never coming close enough for me to get a proper view. It just loiters, keeping an eye on what I'm doing.
And then suddenly it disappears again, in-between two frames of the video. I wait, but I already know it won't be back. A few seconds later, the image cuts out once the motion sensor returns to its idle mode, and I'm left standing alone in the hut.
I should report this.
I should have reported it from the start, but somehow I feel I need more evidence before anyone will take me seriously. If I stormed into the regional office and started ranting about strange presence in the forest, I'd end up being ridiculed for the rest of my career. They'd write it off as a prank, as some idiot who thinks it's funny to set me on edge, but they'd only do that because they haven't experienced it for themselves, and because they haven't felt that very same presence out there sometimes, even when it can't be seen. I need some proof to take to them, and I know this presence isn't hostile, I can feel its kindness and curiosity in the air all around me.
Contact.
I just need to make contact.
After saving the file to a dedicated folder, I reset the system and then head back outside. When I look toward the spot where the figure was standing in the video, there's no sign of anything, but I can't shake the feeling that the presence is still watching me. Glancing around, I become increasingly aware of something getting closer, until I feel as if it's almost right in front of me, staring into my eyes. Resisting the urge to step back, I wait in case it makes itself visible, but the presence suddenly disappears as quickly as it arrived, and I realize that this particular encounter is over.
Still, it's undoubtedly something intelligent.
It's also something that arrived just as the other wildlife began to retreat.
And it knows I'm here.
“I'm friendly,” I say out loud, even though I doubt it can hear me now. “I'm human, I just want to talk. I feel we can learn a great deal from one another, so...”
I pause for a moment.
“Well, I hope you'll trust me enough to get in touch,” I add finally. “My name is Edward. I hope that at some point you'll trust me enough to tell me your name.”
Once I've secured the hut's door, I make my way to the next observation station. Maybe I should feel threatened or scared, but deep down I'm certain that if this presence wanted to hurt me, it would have done so by now. Instead it seems curious, as if it wants to observe me just as I want to observe it. There's a danger that I'm reading far too much into the situation, that I'm getting ahead of myself, but I genuinely believe that I'm getting close to some kind of meaningful encounter, perhaps even to a meeting of two very different minds. I've always believed in the supernatural, in the idea that there are life-forms in the world that have barely revealed themselves to us, and now – for whatever reason – one of them seems to be on the verge of establishing contact with me.
I feel privileged and honored, and quite certain that I must rise to the occasion. I'm sure our encounter, if it ever comes, will be filled with peace and love.
III
Of course I can't sleep. I can never sleep after an encounter, so I spend the night tossing and turning while trying to imagine all the things I'd say to it if we came face to face, if we were actually able to establish some kind of dialogue.
“I bring you tidings of joy and hope,” I imagine myself saying, before realizing that I might sound a tad too formal. “Hello,” I continue in my head. “My name is Edward and I'm a human being. What are you?”
This goes on for some time as I constantly rework my approach. If I truly am the first human to make contact with something like this, what exactly should I say?
Eventually, a little after midnight, I glance over at the laptop on the table next to my little bunk and I consider reviewing all the relevant footage so far. After all, out here in the fifth observation station, I have very little else to do with my time, but finally I tell myself that I must maintain a strict schedule, which means focusing on getting some sleep. Rolling onto my back and placing my arms by my sides, I close my eyes and try to remember one of the meditation mantras I was taught during a short weekend retreat in Pittsburgh several years ago.
And then I hear it.
The faintest of clicks, but a click nonetheless.
Turning to look over at the trigger mechanism, I see a blue light and immediately realize that something outside the hut must have set off the motion sensors within the past few seconds. I scramble out of bed and hurry across the room before opening the laptop and bringing up the camera's live feed. As soon as I see the green night-vision shot of the forest, I search for any hint of a presence, and it only takes a moment before I spot a figure standing between the trees at a distance of a hundred, maybe a hundred and fifty feet. I can instantly see that it's the same figure as before, the one with extremely white flesh and dark eyes, and as usual it seems to be simply observing the hut.
One thing's certain. It must know I'm in here.
It's never been quite so daring before. I've seen footage like this in the past, but only when it was recorded during the night. This is the first time I've caught the figure on the live feed, which means that it's out there ri
ght now. Although I keep telling myself that there's no reason to be nervous, I can't shake a feeling of concern as I realize that I'm all alone here in the middle of the forest, and I have no means of contacting anyone. Still, there's no reason to believe that the figure is anything other than friendly, and it might simply be the case that it has decided to finally initiate contact. I pause for a moment, still watching the screen, before suddenly the figure disappears from view.
I immediately feel a swell of panic in my chest.
“Wait!” I stammer, hurrying to the door and pulling it open. When I step outside, of course, I can only see pitch darkness, and even the trees aren't visible. I wait for some hint of movement, but there's nothing and finally I realize that I might have already lost my chance. Maybe I scared it away.
Taking a step forward, I feel a cold night breeze ruffling my pajamas.
“Hello?” I call out, my voice trembling a little. “Are you... Are you here? Are you seeking a line of communication?”
I wait, but there's no reply.
“I come in peace,” I continue, aware that I must sound extremely formal but not really knowing how else to speak to an entity that might well come from an entirely different plane of existence. “My name is Edward Collins, and I'm a researcher for the state's woodland and parks bureau. I'm a friend of the environment, and I'm only here to study the wildlife, not to interfere or to damage anything. You have no reason to fear me, even if you're...”
Taking a deep breath, I realize that I most likely sound ridiculous.
“Even if you're some kind of wood spirit,” I add. “Is that what you are? I've read about creatures that call the forest their home, and I'm extremely open-minded. If you're willing to communicate with me in any manner whatsoever, I can promise you peace, compassion, understanding and respect. I know my species might not have the greatest track record when it comes to environmental matters, but perhaps we can work together to change that.”
Again I wait, but again there's no reply.
“Well,” I mutter finally, realizing that I'm too late, “keep it in mind.”
Turning to head back inside, I pull the door shut and then head over to the laptop. I reach out to swing the lid shut, before suddenly seeing that almost the entire camera view has been filled with a view of a face, staring straight into the lens. I freeze for a moment, before tilting my head slightly in an attempt to work out exactly what I'm seeing. Lit up bright green by the night-vision system, the face is hairless with large, dark eyes. Given that it's staring straight into the camera, the creature must be right outside, just a few feet from the door, which means it must have been there a moment ago too, when I was calling out into the darkness.
And it's female.
Now I can see it properly, I'm absolutely certain that the creature is female.
Unable to react, I stare at the image as the creature leans closer to the camera, and after a few seconds I realize I can see flecks of dark matter floating through her translucent eyeballs. A moment later, the creature turns to its right, which means that she's looking at the cabin's door, and then she ducks down out of view.
Slowly I turn and look at the door, and after a few seconds I realize I can hear something sniffing about out there. I take a couple of steps closer, and when I reach the door I'm able to hear another sound too, a kind of faint, persistent gasp. I tell myself that this might well be a hallucination, or some kind of particularly vivid waking dream, but I also know that I can't turn away from an opportunity to learn more, not as a man of science. Reaching out to the door handle, I listen to the sniffs for a moment longer before starting to pull the door open.
Something darts back from the step, recoiling into the darkness as I step into the empty doorway.
“Hello?” I say out loud, trying my best to stay calm even though my heart is pounding in my chest. “I... I don't know what you are, and I suppose you don't know what I am either, but we... I'm a human. I imagine you must be aware of us, at the very least.” I wait for a reply, before putting a hand on my chest. “Human. Do you understand? Do you have a language of your own?”
I can't see the creature, but I can hear her breathing just a few feet away and the sniffing sound is persisting. Even though there's a hint of fear in my chest, I take a step forward, fully aware that I must push past my petty concerns and represent my species in this historic meeting.
“I am a friend,” I continue, holding my right hand out. “Do you understand? Friend. And you... Am I right in assuming that you're some kind of elemental spirit? Perhaps an expression of the forest's soul? I must admit, I've been aware of you for a while and -”
Before I can finish, I realize I can just about make out the figure's shape in the darkness. She seems to be shuddering slightly, almost as if she's scared. I was probably a fool to assume that she'd be able to understand me, so I guess I need to use some positive body language. Taking a deep breath, I step forward until I can see the creature's face more clearly, and I stare into those large, dark eyes as they remain focused on me.
“We can find a way to communicate,” I continue, forcing a smile. “Of that, I am quite certain.” I take another step forward and -
Suddenly the figure lunges at me, snarling as she slams into my chest and knocks me back through the doorway into the dark hut. I instinctively try to push her away, but I'm powerless as she lands on top of me and lashes at my face with one of her clawed hands. I feel hooks ripping through my eyes and everything goes black, but when I try to cry out I immediately feel my throat being gouged away. A moment later the figure clambers over me, kicking what's left of my face with a clawed foot. I roll onto my front, gasping for air as I hear the sound of my equipment being smashed.
“Please...” I try to say, but all that comes from my mouth is a spray of blood.
The figure climbs back over me, her claws once again digging into my body and shredding my skin. I reach out to stop her, but a moment later she grabs my feet and pulls me back out into the forest, dragging me across the muddy ground until suddenly she stops. Before I can react, I feel her biting down into my back, tearing the flesh away. I start to scream as I try to crawl away, but she grabs my head and twists it hard, breaking my neck. As my bloodied face slumps down against the mud, I feel my body shuddering as the creature feasts, but there's nothing I can do to stop her and at least my broken neck prevents me from feeling any more pain.
Until a few minutes later, that is, because then she starts tearing at the base of my skull and I scream. I briefly feel her breaking through to my brain, and then all sensations are lost. The pain is too much and I sink into nothingness. For a moment I'm aware of this nothingness, but then this awareness becomes more of a faint sensation, and then nothing at all except for one final, dwindling realization.
She was a child. In the midst of all that horror, I think she was a little girl.
Part Eight
RITA
I
Today
“Observation station?” Scottie mutters as he flicks through the notebook. “Where the hell did you find all this stuff?”
“There's a cabin in the forest,” I reply, sitting cross-legged on the ground next to his trailer. “More like a shack, really. It's pretty rundown, but that was in there. It seems like some kind of logbook.”
He continues to flick through the book for a moment, before turning and glancing at me with a hint of concern. “The forest? You went into the forest? Are you completely insane?”
“I was hoping to find some trace of Shannon,” I tell him. “I guess that was dumb, but... You've lived here all your life, right? Have you ever heard of any kind of observation project going on in there?”
Shaking his head, he reaches the back of the notebook and looks at the map for a moment. “I don't tend to concern myself with what other people are doing too much. I remember there was some talk about selling off part of the damn place a few years ago, but I don't know what came of that.” He pauses for a moment. “You said
there was an electric light in that shack you found?”
“I was pretty amazed.”
“Me too. Who the hell runs a cable out there and then keeps it going for all these years?”
“I figured there was some project once,” I continue, “and it was abandoned but... I don't know, maybe bits of it kept going?”
Still staring at the map, he seems lost in thought for a moment. “And you're sure you saw someone watching you?”
“He ran as soon as I spotted him. I didn't get a look at him, maybe I should have called out but I just froze. I swear to God, I almost wet myself with fear and -” I watch as he starts peeling the map out of the book. “Hey, what are you doing?”
“You spotted this yet?” he asks, holding the book up to reveal a second, older map under the one I already saw. “Notice anything different?”
Leaning closer, I realize that the older map doesn't show the store. Instead, the forest seems to spread across the area where the store and the parking lot were built, extending all the way to the road. There's a red dot there too, with the number six scribbled in pencil.
“I told you how the store was built on reclaimed land from the forest, right?” Scottie continues. “Looks like there was another of your little observation stations right there on that patch. Before it was all bulldozed, anyway.”
“I still don't know what they were observing,” I point out. “The book mentions rabbits and birds, and insects, so I guess it was something to do with the local wildlife.”
“Or lack of it,” he replies. “Judging by the comments about digging into the soil, it looks like the person who made these observations was trying to find signs of life, and as time went by he had to dig deeper and deeper.” He pauses for a moment, before turning and looking toward the forest. “You know what I've never heard from in there?” he asks. “Any sign of animal life, at least since I came to live in the trailer park. When you were out there this morning, did you see anything at all?”
