For as long as it might last.
9
CONNOR
The sheer darkness of the forest after midnight envelops me, allowing me to blend into the shadows and disappear as I move through the trees silently.
Each step I take, I tilt my head and listen intently.
Those typical sounds of the mountain this late at night that have become such a familiar soundtrack to my life are silent.
No nocturnal creatures scurrying on the ground.
No owls flying overhead as they hunt.
No chirping crickets or katydids in the trees.
Nothing.
The utter silence is eerie, almost as if the mountain itself understands what’s happening and knows how wrong it is.
My chest aches with the wild, erratic beat of my heart against my rib cage, and I draw in a shaky breath, trying to calm it.
If I’m not in control, this is going to go to shit very quickly…
It was the silence that first alerted me that something was wrong, because on a place like McBride Mountain, there’s always something moving. Noises that I’ve known my entire life, that have always filled the air at night as I lie in bed, disappeared tonight, and goosebumps erupted on my skin the moment I noticed.
Everything remains quiet now as I stalk through the trees, keeping myself concealed in the shadows, scanning the clearing in front of me.
The flash of movement might have been missed by anyone else, blending in with the shadows, but I know this land too well, know what it looks like at every hour of the day, know every tree, every limb, every shadow, and this one isn’t right.
My stomach knots, my hands sweating on the shotgun, making me have to grip it even harder to keep it steady. If it slips, if I slip, it would spell disaster. The kind that can’t be undone.
Keep it together.
I inch forward, tuck myself behind a large tree trunk for cover, hold my breath…and wait.
Only a few seconds pass before a figure dressed in all black fatigues darts across a small, open space between trees, the semi-automatic weapon in his hand visible in the brief flash of moonlight that illuminated him before he disappeared into the shadows again.
Bile climbs up my throat, forcing me to swallow and take a breath.
Not again.
Please, God, not again.
This can’t be happening again…
No. No. No. No. No.
The panic tries to grip me in its suffocating clutches. It settles over me like the mist does the mountain every morning, threatening to paralyze me with its choking strength and complete possession.
But I can’t let it…
I know what happens if I do.
I understand the consequences.
Not just to me, but to all the people I care about on this mountain.
