A Sound In The Dark

by Kyle Alexander Romines

  The moonlight glowed around them. When Zack turned around, Beth’s expression changed. She pointed at his chest.

  “Oh my God.” She held up her hand to her mouth.

  It wasn’t until that moment that Zack noticed his shirt was stained in Steve’s blood.

  As Beth screamed, Ron pulled his knife.

  ***

  The three men plunged ever deeper into the forest, scrambling like blind animals. Will knew the others were depending on him to lead the way, but that no longer concerned him. He was only interesting in staying alive. Everything else was secondary.

  Having left the creek behind at the recreation area, they were running toward regions unknown. Will’s legs started to burn as the terrain shifted upward. Still he pressed forward. The sounds of the others grew faint.

  Will stumbled and nearly lost his footing. He was standing on a ledge. Although the cliff was smaller than Whispering Reach, a drop from that height would probably be deadly. The river rushed below, encircling the cliff in a crescent moon. Will dropped to his knees and waited to catch his breath.

  “There’s nothing below,” he said when Cole and Dave emerged from the brush. “We’re cornered.”

  “Then we have to go back,” Cole said. “We can find another trail.” Will already started to rise and Cole grabbed his arm. “Wait. We need to take a look at Dave first.”

  Will shot a dark look at Cole. Couldn’t he see they were being pursued? Any delay could prove fatal. Sighing, he joined his friend at Dave’s side, where the heavy man rested against a tree.

  “How do you feel?” Will asked. He knelt and looked at Dave’s side. The wound was shallow, but he was losing blood. Dave’s face was pale.

  “I feel light-headed,” Dave whispered, struggling to sit up straight.

  “You’re lucky you don’t have two arrows in you,” Cole said. “If you hadn’t moved when you did, you’d be a dead man.”

  Dave stared into Cole’s eyes, expressing silent thanks for helping him out of the killer’s line of fire, and Cole nodded curtly.

  “Hold still,” Will said. He looked over the wound. If they didn’t get medicine, Dave ran the risk of getting infected. At the moment, that was low on their list of priorities. There were bandages back at the lodge, though Will wasn’t sure that was where they needed to go. “You’ll be fine for now, big guy,” he said. He patted Dave on the knee. It was a lie, though the other two seemed to buy it. While Dave’s injury wasn’t mortal, he needed to get off his feet and rest. Will couldn’t allow that.

  Cole grabbed his shoulder. “How did he find us?”

  Will didn’t know. “He must have been following us down the cliff. He probably killed Zack first.”

  Oddly, Will didn’t recall being followed as they made the descent from Dead Man’s Drop, but it was the only explanation. Otherwise, how could the Hunter have tracked them?

  “He was toying with us. We were just lucky he wasn’t using bullets. If he wanted to kill us, he could have.”

  It was a miracle they all survived. The second run-in with the killer convinced him of one thing—the man hadn’t been lying to them about his intentions. He murdered Steve and probably Zack, and they were all next. Will wanted to find a way out quickly.

  “Let’s go back down,” Cole suggested. “We can follow the river.”

  The idea was as good as any. Will waited for Cole to help Dave off the ground, and the three men made their way back down the cliff the way they came. They were walking considerably slower than earlier. Even Will was showing signs of fatigue. They couldn’t keep going like this.

  Surely he won’t find us again, Will thought. The Hunter was only human. He had limits, no matter how skilled a tracker he might be. On the other hand, that was what Will thought before the killer somehow found them again at the recreation area.

  “We’ll take this path,” Will said once they were at the bottom of the hill. It diverged from the trail they took to reach the cliff. Will didn’t know where they were heading, but he couldn’t help feeling they were simply trekking back in the direction of Beggar’s Road. Maybe Dave’s idea to go back to the lodge wasn’t such a bad one after all.

  The river roared in the background. They entered a valley whose name Will no longer recalled. If his memory served him, they were east of the cabins in the mountains and west of Whispering Reach and Dire Lake. The valley was flooded. Will’s pants were already covered in mud. Several times he had to catch Cole before he slipped. It looked like Cole tried not to show it, but the lack of shoes was causing him trouble.

  The land grew drier the farther they traveled, though it remained damp at best. The trees were taller, and the mountains loomed not far from where they were. Dry leaves coated the ground.

  “Maybe we should hike to the cabins,” Dave said. “We could barricade the doors and hide out until sunrise. They might have phones inside.”

  “Quiet,” Will said as he tried to listen for noises above the sound of the river.

  Dave’s idea wasn’t particularly appealing. While the mountains weren’t all that steep, making it to the cabins would require even more effort on their part. If they did reach the cabins, it wasn’t likely any phones would extend the reach of the lodge. Will suspected the Hunter would have taken care of that already. Once there, there would be nowhere to go but down.

  “Over there,” Cole said. He pointed toward the river behind Will. Will turned around and followed his friend.

  There was a tent leaning against the brush in close proximity to the river. The exposed earth surrounding the tent was covered in muddy tracks.

  “Someone was here recently,” Will whispered. The three campers crept into the moonlight, drawing nearer to the tent.

  It was then they spotted the man standing on the banks of the river. His back was turned to them. Dave’s foot snapped a twig, and the man spun around. He was wearing a brown shirt, dark pants, and boots. Dave looked ready to bolt, but Will gestured for him to remain in place. The man didn’t appear to be armed. Neither was he wearing the jacket or bandana the Hunter concealed himself with.

  The man faced them for a moment, watching the three campers with a cautious gaze. Will stepped forward, and the other two followed uneasily. The stranger was standing against the bank, cut off from the tent by the campers. From the look of things, he’d been washing his hands in the river when they stumbled across him.

  “Who are you?” Will asked. He looked around to make sure they were alone.

  “My name is Bart,” the man answered uneasily. He walked up the bank toward them. There was a gleam in his eye Will didn’t like. “I’m out here camping, the same as you.”

  “Pardon me if I don’t trust you,” Will replied. “One of our friends was just shot to death on Whispering Reach.”

  Although the stranger wasn’t wearing the same clothes as the killer, the Hunter could have changed his attire at any time. Will knew he was being paranoid, but something about Bart’s demeanor troubled him.

  “Why would anyone do something like that?” Bart asked flatly, holding up his hands in protest. He watched the others with interest.

  “We’re in danger,” Cole interrupted. “All of us. We need to find shelter.”

  Will glanced at the flimsy tent. Bart was a sitting duck.

  The stranger looked at them a while before nodding in agreement.

  “Just let me get my things,” he said, heading toward the tent. Will happened to glance back in the tent’s direction just before Bart walked past them.

  “Stop!” he shouted. He placed himself in Bart’s way. Cole glanced up, alarmed. “Look,” Will said.

  Leaning against the tent was a shotgun. Bart gritted his teeth and gazed at the three men.

  Will stared him down angrily. “Thought you’d pull a fast one on us?” B
art made no move to go for the weapon. “Dave, grab the gun.” The heavy man snatched up the weapon and trained it on the stranger.

  “Let’s not be hasty,” Bart said.

  “Why do you have a gun?” Cole demanded. “What were you planning to do with it?”

  Bart shook his head violently. “You’ve got the wrong idea. I didn’t kill your friend.”

  “Then why the shotgun?” Will repeated. “Cole, search his tent. See what else he’s hiding in there.” There was silence as the law student pulled down the zipper and stepped inside Bart’s tent. He emerged a few seconds later, holding another two-way radio and a handful of bullets.

  “I found these inside the tent,” he said, handing Will the shells. “There was also a written message from Ranger Fields along with the radio.”

  Will slid the shells into his pocket and took the shotgun from Dave. “You’d better start giving us some answers.”

  “It’s not me, I swear,” the man said. “I heard gunshots and went out to investigate. I’ve been here for a few days already.”

  “That’s not good enough,” Will said.

  “I made it as far as the museum. There was a man inside the shed.”

  “Museum?” Cole asked.

  “There’s an old cemetery on the property,” Will answered. “I learned about it when I started looking into the park.” He turned his gaze back to Bart. “The man you saw. What did he look like?”

  “He was about your height,” the stranger answered. “He looked a little like you. He had black hair.”

  “Zack?” Cole asked, concern in his voice.

  Will paused. If Zack was wandering around the cemetery, that meant he was still alive. The graveyard wasn’t far from the recreation area, where they’d been when the Hunter attacked. Unless Bart could be in two places at once, it was unlikely he was the killer.

  “Did he have a weapon?”

  “Not that I could see. I tried to talk to him, but he ran the other way. Then I came back to the tent.”

  Will’s eyes narrowed. “There’s something you’re not telling us.”

  Bart sighed. Will could tell the stranger was contemplating sharing delicate information. When he spoke again, it was with obvious reluctance.

  “I was away from my tent most of the day. I’ve been hunting,” he admitted. “That’s why I had the gun.”

  “What do you mean?” Dave asked, not understanding.

  “I was poaching,” Bart clarified.

  Now it all fit. Bart was the one who was shooting earlier in the day, the one Ron and Beth heard. When Zack saw Bart, he saw the gun and probably assumed the worst. Will eased up on the trigger.

  “Can you take us to the museum?” Cole asked.

  Will looked at his friend with shock. “Why would we want to go there?”

  “We have to find Zack.”

  Will scowled. “Zack knows how to handle himself in the forest. We need to find shelter first.” He looked Bart up and down. He didn’t know the poacher and didn’t trust him. “You’re welcome to join us,” he said, “but I’ll be keeping an eye on you. I’ll also hold onto this,” he added, looking at the gun. Although he wasn’t certain, it looked like Bart smiled at the words.

  “The man who killed your friends,” Bart said. “Was he wearing a necklace by any chance?”

  “I’m not sure,” Cole said. He looked at Bart curiously. “Why do you ask?”

  “No reason,” Bart replied. “When I arrived here, there was a man leaving the lodge wearing a necklace. Something about him didn’t sit well with me.”

  ***

  The men’s voices carried past the trees. Rodney Crowe stood just beyond the dirt trail overlooking the valley. They were close. He checked his device one more time. There were two hits coming from the valley. When he stalked them outside the recreation area, there was only one hit. There were more of them now.

  Crowe smiled. Fractured as they were, the campers thought by grouping together, they could survive. They couldn’t be more wrong. In the wilderness, it was every man for himself. Banding together only meant combining weaknesses, and they were plenty weak enough already. Crowe didn’t even need the device to pursue the three campers. Their trail was all too easy to follow. He’d barely missed before with the arrows. He wouldn’t miss again. Some of them would no doubt try to hide, which was why the tracking device was necessary. The killer was a man of his word. If they could last the night, he would let them go. They didn’t know he could always find them.

  The campers could try to escape. They might even get far. That rule was also a ruse. There was no escape from the park. The edge of Drifter’s Folly was lined with traps and hidden dangers. If they took Beggar’s Road or tried to return to the lodge, they would find another surprise waiting for them.

  There was no way out.

  Chapter Nine

  12:33 am

  Zack stared at the knife. He moved slowly, careful not to upset the man holding it.

  “Your friend mentioned there were two more of you,” Ron said. “He never told us your names.”

  Beth remained silent. The worry on her face was palpable. Zack knew the situation looked bad. He was covered in Steve’s blood, and there was no way to prove he was not the killer.

  “Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” Zack said. He backed away slowly, and a twig snapped under his weight. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Somewhere out there was the real killer.

  “That blood on your shirt didn’t come from you,” Ron said.

  “I was standing next to my friend when he was shot,” Zack protested.

  Ron’s expression didn’t change. It was clear that his nerves were getting the best of him, causing him to throw logic out the window.

  “Maybe he’s telling the truth,” Beth said. The two men looked at her. “He was caught in the trap.”

  Zack nodded and seized on the point. “That’s right. Why would I tie myself up?”

  That gave Ron pause. He turned to Beth. “Maybe he was trying to trick us into letting our guard down. Or maybe he forgot where he put the trap. It’s dark enough.” There was doubt in Beth’s eyes. “I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he finished.

  “Then just let me go,” Zack said. He held up his arms. “I’ll disappear into the forest and you’ll never see me again.” He didn’t want to be in the woods on his own, but it was better than the alternative.

  “I’m not letting you out of my sight. If you are the killer, you’ve probably got some weapons stored nearby.”

  His logic didn’t make sense. Even if that were true, there was no way anyone could get to the weapons in the first place with Ron standing guard over them.

  The three people stood in silence, each looking anxiously at the other. Before anyone voiced another opinion, the two-way radio at Ron’s belt roared to life.

  “Hello?” a voice crackled through the static. The voice echoed again, saying something unintelligible.

  “Honey, take it,” Ron said, never taking his eyes off Zack. Zack admired the man’s devotion to his girlfriend, but he needed a way out of this situation. “Switch channels,” Ron added.

  “Is someone there?” Beth asked. “Ranger Fields, is that you?”

  For a moment, there was no response, and Zack feared the connection was severed, until the radio crackled again.

  “This is Will Bradley. I’m with two of my friends and another camper. We’re trying to raise Fields.”

  “Will?” Zack exclaimed. Ron raised his knife, but Zack ignored him. “Press the call button again,” he said to Beth. She did as he asked. “Will, it’s me. Tell them you know my voice.”

  “Thank God.” Will sounded relieved. “We thought you were dead. The other guy who’s with us said he saw you by the museum. We weren�
�t sure he was telling the truth.”

  So that was the man with the shotgun, Zack thought. The killer wasn’t the person who pursued him after all. So where was the murderer hiding?

  “Are you all okay?”

  “Yes,” Will replied. “We were attacked near the recreation area and Dave was shot with an arrow. He’s holding up well for the time being, all things considered. Don’t go near that place. The payphone doesn’t even work.”

  “So much for finding a phone,” Ron muttered. He put his knife away again.

  “Where are you?” Zack asked.

  “In a valley near the river. What about you?”

  Zack wasn’t sure.

  “We’re on the Cemetery March Trail,” Ron said. “At least we were when we ran into you.”

  “I think we’re close to you,” Will replied.

  “If we head in the direction of Whispering Reach, we might find each other.”

  “What’s your plan?” Will asked.

  Zack considered their options. “The forest is rigged with traps. We need to get out of here. If we double back to the cliff, we can grab our keys and make for the lodge.”

  Will didn’t answer for a moment. “That’s an awfully large gamble to take,” he finally said. “I think—”

  Something cut him off.

  “Will?” Zack asked, taking the radio from Beth. “Will?” he repeated.

  “Hang on,” Will said. “I thought I heard something.”

  The radio went silent. Zack looked at the others. A few seconds later, gunshots echoed through the night. Zack’s face was etched in worry. He’d already lost so much. He couldn’t lose his friends too. For the first time that evening, he felt a pang of despair. It was like a cloud had descended upon him. Something about the feeling was wrong, like a foreign consciousness stirring in his mind.

  At that moment, Zack spotted a figure over Ron’s shoulder. Ron followed his gaze and turned around, just as a man with a gun stepped into the moonlight. He was wearing a black bandana around his face and a dark jacket. It was the Hunter. In his hands was a rifle.