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Inspecting the little boy, I noticed he wasn’t wearing any shoes. His shorts were threadbare, his shirt caked with so much dirt, it could stand on its own. Dirt marred his face as he sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his dirty hand.
“You’re one to talk,” I muttered, wondering how in the hell I ended up where I was.
Which begged the question, justwhere in the hell was I?
More importantly, how in the hell did I get here?
“Cameron!” a woman shouted off in the distance through the trees.
The little boy turned and sighed. “That’s my sister, Skylar.”
I nodded. “Sounds like she’s worried.”
“Naw. It’s my bath time. Don’t need one cause I’m gonna get dirty later, anyway.”
Hiding my smirk, I got to my feet and dusted off the leaves and dirt stuck to my body. “Nothing wrong with getting dirty, kid. But baths are a must. Don’t want to get sick, do ya?”
“Cameron,” a young woman sighed, walking out from behind the trees. “Boy, what am I going to do with you?”
“Don’t want no bath!” the kid shouted before running off into the woods. Watching him bolt, I chuckled as the young woman sighed.
Typical boy. I remembered those days fondly as I too ran from my mother when it was bath time. Had to admit, the kid made a point. Why get cleaned up when he knew he was going to get dirty again? Then again, that was child logic. As an adult now, I understood the need for cleanliness. Which I planned on taking care of as soon as I found my bike and got the hell out of here.
Wherever here was?
“Great. Sorry about that. He can be a handful.”
“I can imagine,” I muttered, looking around for my bike. “I guess I better get going.”
Where the hell was my bike?
I knew damn well I was riding it when I left the compound yesterday. It had to be around here somewhere because there was no way I would leave my bike.
“If you’re looking for your bike, it’s over there. Don’t think you’ll be able to ride it, though. It’s pretty messed up,” the young woman offered.
That stopped me short.
In all my years, I’ve never laid down my bike. I was a safe rider. Obeyed all the rules. I maintained my bike religiously, never wanting to chance anything happening.
Messed up how?
“What?”
“Yeah,” she said, turning away from me. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
“What about your brother?” I asked, not really caring, but figured I should mention the vagrant, since she was just yelling for him a few seconds ago.
“Oh, he knows his way home.”
Following the young woman, I tried to find anything that told me where the hell I was, but all I saw were trees for miles. Lots of fucking trees. How in the hell did I end up in the middle of a goddamned forest?
More importantly, what forest was I in?
I knew every trail, every camping site, every mountain path surrounding Rosewood, Virginia, but nothing around me looked familiar.
“Uh, could you tell me where I’m at?”
“Juniper Hollow. You’re about five hours from Charleston, West Virginia. You are deep in the Smokey mountains, mister. There are no paved roads out here, so I’m not sure how you even got out here.”
