A Sound In The Dark

by Kyle Alexander Romines

  “Will!” Cole shouted, grabbing his arm. “You’re going too fast!”

  Another bullet passed over Will’s head. The killer was toying with them. Will grappled with Cole, looking nervously at the trees. The Hunter had vanished from sight. Wherever he was, the killer was too close. Will knew he wouldn’t be able to defend himself with the shotgun unless the Hunter came close enough that accuracy didn’t matter. The Hunter would find them and kill them, just like the others.

  In the spur of the moment, a new thought occurred to Will. Tightening his grip on Cole, he reached down into his friend’s pants pocket and wrenched the cell phone free. Before Cole could react, he grabbed him and threw him against the ground.

  “What are you doing?” Cole shouted as he fell.

  Will looked down at his friend for a moment before running as fast as his legs could take him.

  “Will!”

  He heard Cole’s voice carrying over the trees. Will blocked the voice out and focused on the darkness ahead as he abandoned the pines for the thicker forest to the north, using the cell phone’s light to guide him. Once he was close enough to the lodge, he would use the phone to call for help. If Cole remained alive, the police would return to the pines and rescue him. In the back of his mind, Will knew this was unlikely. Abandoning Cole to the Hunter meant ensuring his own survival, since Will now had enough time to escape himself. That was all that mattered. He tore through the brush, holding onto the knowledge he would do whatever it took to survive.

  ***

  “Will!” Cole shouted again. His voice broke. He stumbled forward, feeling out with his hands. Dark clouds now covered the sky, concealing the faint moonlight. Darkness reigned again. Cole whispered his friend’s name a final time out of despair. He was alone. The killer was probably somewhere nearby.

  Behind him, he heard a pinecone crunch under the Hunter’s weight. Sucking in a deep breath of air, Cole charged through the forest at full speed, reeling from the pain of his injury. He stumbled over a rock in the blackness and picked himself up, glancing behind to see if he was being pursued. Though he couldn’t see anything following him, the feeling of being watched persisted, so Cole kept running. Ahead, the clouds lifted and the moonlight returned. The wind howled and he heard what sounded like whispers in the forest.

  Just as he was about to leave the pines behind, the earth opened under his feet, and Cole plunged into darkness.

  Chapter Fourteen

  2:47 am

  Sweeping winds rattled the cabin door on its hinges. The door shook violently, and the floorboards creaked inside the long-abandoned structure. On the second floor, the occupant concealed inside the closet stirred.

  It was still dark when Dave awoke. His eyes opened slowly, resisting a return to the nightmarish reality that engulfed him. The light of the full moon, which glowed so brightly through the cabin windows a few hours ago, had disappeared from sight. Dave felt around as he attempted to regain his bearings. His entire body ached. When he gently reached to his back and ran a hand down his side, Dave felt a stinging sensation in his shoulder. The wound hadn’t even begun to heal.

  What time is it? he wondered. It was still night. That much was certain. Dave swore quietly, angry with himself for falling asleep. The others might have tried to contact him. Maybe they succeeded in finding help. He would never know. Dave rose from the ground to get a better view through the closet’s shutters. There was a sticky mess on the floorboards beneath him. It was a dried pool of his blood. As he fell backwards, his hand brushed against the two-way radio. Dave remembered switching it off. He cradled the radio in his hands like it offered him protection from being alone. Even sitting in the dark, concealed within the shadowy confines of the cabin, he felt exposed.

  His throat was parched. Mustering his courage, Dave pushed open the twin closet doors and crawled back into the desolate room next to the staircase. The house was unnaturally quiet. He approached the window, aware of the faint echo of thunder coming from outside. The cold floor gave him chills. Dave peered through the window at the forest below. The tall trees that grew on the mountainside swayed about in the harsh wind. A sea of clouds partially obscured the moon, evidence of an impending storm.

  The sound of thunder vanished, replaced by the noise of the door rattling below. The noise unnerved Dave. He kept expecting to see a figure emerge from the dark forest and make its way to the cabin. Dave forced himself to pull his gaze away from the window.

  I need to find a bathroom, he thought, suddenly aware his bladder was full. He wanted to wash the bloodstains off his skin. If he had the strength afterward, he would wander downstairs and see if there was a first aid kit anywhere in sight. Based on the way things were going, he doubted it.

  The bathroom was a modest room directly in front of the staircase. On its left was the second bedroom on the top floor. Dave was grateful he didn’t have to crawl down the stairs to reach the restroom. Grabbing the countertop, he pulled himself up and tried flicking on the light-switch. It didn’t work. With fumbling hands, Dave turned on the faucet instead. Thankfully, rushing water erupted into the sink. He splashed his face with water and gazed at the mirror. Although obscured by darkness, his reflection looked bad. It was like he was staring at another person.

  “I was shot,” Dave muttered, trying to convince himself it really happened as he gulped down water directly from the spout.

  Downstairs, the doorknob of the front door began to shake. Dave’s eyes grew wide. He couldn’t remember locking, or even closing, the door behind him after he forced his way inside earlier. In a panic, he turned off the water and dropped to the floor. As Dave crawled back into the hall, he heard the front door swing open on the first floor. He prayed it was just the wind, and listened for any sound in the silent house.

  The floorboards rattled under the weight of the intruder, and Dave realized he wasn’t alone. Someone was with him inside the cabin. Moving as quietly as he could, Dave crawled toward the bedroom where he had hid before. He peeked through the balcony posts to catch a glimpse of the intruder, but all he saw was a shadow. The intruder took two more steps. Rather than wait for the stranger to come looking for him, Dave decided to keep moving. His heart was pounding. If he made a loud noise, he was done for. He now regretted being so quick to strike out on his own.

  Miraculously, the intruder appeared to walk into one of the bedrooms on the first floor. Using the chance to hide, Dave slid into the closet on his belly. Suddenly, the floor creaked under him. He heard the footsteps stop below. The intruder had heard the sound. The stranger’s footsteps started again, and this time they grew louder and louder until Dave heard him coming up the stairs. Dave pulled the closet doors closed and prayed it was too dark for the intruder to see him.

  He switched on the two-way radio. His hands shaking, Dave held it up to his mouth.

  “Guys?” he whispered into the receiver. “I’m in one of the cabins. Someone is in here with me.”

  The only response was the sound of static. No one was coming to his rescue. For all he knew, his friends had already made it to safety.

  The cabin, which had been his greatest hope to wait out the attack until morning, was now a trap he was snared in. How had the killer found him? Dave was sure no one followed him through the forest. Was the Hunter toying with them the whole time?

  The killer reached the top of the stairs. From his vantage point in the closet, Dave still couldn’t see where the man was. He heard the intruder shuffling down the hallway, and then Dave heard a water droplet fall from the faucet in the bathroom. The footsteps drew closer.

  Maybe he’ll think it’s a leak, Dave thought.

  The intruder walked into the bedroom. Sweat dripped down Dave’s face. The man walked over to the window, and Dave could see him through the closet shutters. He could barely see the killer in the darkness. A bandana masked his face. Dave watch
ed the killer stare out the window before turning and moving toward the bed. The intruder dropped to his knees and reached under the bed. Dave’s breathing accelerated. Maybe the killer would pass him by.

  The killer stood and walked in the direction of the closet. He was looking directly above Dave. A second water droplet fell in the bathroom. At the sound, the killer turned and walked out of the room. Dave watched the man’s black boots vanish from sight. When the Hunter was gone, he let out a quiet sigh of relief. Dave thought he heard the sound of the man’s footsteps going down the stairs. He waited several minutes and crawled out of the closet. He wanted to get to the window to see if the intruder was gone. Dave crouched by the windowsill and peeked outside. There was nothing below. The door remained open, swaying in the breeze.

  Where did he go?

  Across the hall, the door to the second bedroom opened silently. A shadowy figure appeared in the doorway behind Dave, who was busy staring out the window. By the time Dave heard the man’s footsteps, the intruder was almost on top of him. He turned around and saw the man creeping toward him. Dave stumbled and fell back, landing on the floor. The killer reached out and seized his leg, raising a hunting knife with his other hand.

  Fighting with all he had left, Dave kicked as hard as he could. The kick caught the killer by surprise, and the man crashed against the wall. Dave pushed himself to his feet and hobbled out of the room. The masked man was right behind him. The killer struck Dave in the back, and he tumbled down the wooden stairs. Dave hit the ground below hard. He could taste blood. His world was spinning.

  The killer slowly descended the stairs. Dave tried to rise, and faltered as he crawled toward the open front door. Floorboards creaked again behind him. He looked back and saw the killer towering at his back, knife in hand.

  The blade plunged into his back again. Dave sank closer to the ground, a silent scream on his lips. The door loomed mere feet away. Finding a final reserve of strength, he inched a hand closer to the opening and pulled himself toward it.

  The killer stepped on his hand with a boot, pinning him to the ground. Dave tried to struggle, but the intruder pulled his blade free and he stabbed him again and again. This time the weapon finished its task.

  ***

  When his work was done, Rodney Crowe departed the cabin and headed into the wind. They all thought they could hide. How wrong they were. The Hunter taught him that. Of the two of them, there was no doubt who was the more experienced. The Hunter started playing the game long before Crowe came along. Exactly how long, Crowe couldn’t say. He didn’t even know the man’s real name. It didn’t matter. They were kindred spirits. Crowe had been a murderer many times over before crossing paths with the Hunter, but the man taught him things he’d never dreamt of.

  There were differences between them. Crowe reveled in the act of murder itself. The Hunter enjoyed the game more. The Hunter also took pleasure from toying with his victims, watching them fracture physically and emotionally. There was also that necklace of his. The Hunter’s fixation on the item didn’t bother Crowe initially, but that was starting to change. Crowe even caught the other man talking to it earlier when his friend thought he didn’t see. He was starting to suspect the Hunter had a secret motive for the killings other than his own amusement.

  Crowe pushed the suspicions from his mind. There would be another time to dwell on the state of their partnership. That time wasn’t during the game, not when he had a real shot at winning. Soon there would be a reckoning, but for now it was time the rest of the campers shared a reunion of their own.

  The final phase of the game was about to begin.

  ***

  Whispering Reach towered above, beckoning like a siren over the black waters of Dire Lake. Dark clouds covered the sky, all but masking the moon. The wind ripped through the trees with powerful force, which caused the smaller saplings to bend and snap. A few drops of rain fell from the sky, a sign the heavens were about to open.

  “How much longer are we going to wait?”

  It was a fair question. At the moment, Zack didn’t know how to answer. He looked Beth over carefully, watching her in what remained of the moonlight. Fear was still visible on her face. Determination was there too. She wanted to survive. When Lily died, Zack had lost his zeal for life. How did Beth continue to function given the death of her companion? Zack wondered how long she and Ron were dating before the camping trip. He didn’t see a ring on her finger, so it was obvious they were not yet married.

  “They’re coming. I know it.”

  In reality, he knew no such thing. Cole and Will were both skilled hikers, but the killer’s game had flipped convention onto its head. Nevertheless, Beth seemed to believe him when he told her they would pull through.

  The pair hid in the brush, less than a mile from the cliff. Deadman’s Drop loomed not far away. Zack picked their hiding place well. A well-kempt path to the east was called the Endless Trail, which supposedly led from one end of the park to the other. Following this trail would also take them back to the park entrance. If push came to shove, they could take the second route and avoid making the climb up the cliff in the rain.

  “Tell me about her.”

  “Who?”

  “The woman you lost.”

  Zack couldn’t recall if he’d mentioned anything about the person he’d lost being a woman, but Beth watched him with a knowing gleam in her eye. He sat in silence for a moment, fiddling with the flashlight. Lily’s death wasn’t something he could just start talking about, even with Cole. At the same time, when would be the right time to talk about it? If not now, he might never have the chance.

  “Her name was Lily. She took her life.” Other than blinking, Beth remained motionless. It seemed insane to be having such a conversation at a time like this, but now that he’d started, Zack found he couldn’t stop. “She’d cheated on me, so I pushed her away when she tried to reach out for help. I just couldn’t see her pain. Or maybe I chose to ignore it.”

  Beth didn’t reply. She didn’t try to tell him Lily’s death wasn’t his fault. She didn’t ask him any further questions. She just listened. When Zack finished, they both sat quietly in the shadows of the trees that helped conceal them, listening to the sound of the wind.

  A few minutes later, Zack realized that someone was moving toward the lake from the south, and fast. The hair bristled on Zack’s arms. He stood quickly.

  “Be ready to run,” he whispered to Beth. A shape took form in the distance, blurred from the speed with which it was moving. As it drew nearer, Zack spotted a shotgun in the figure’s hands. Beth’s mouth dropped in horror.

  The figure spotted them. With impossible speed, the shape changed course and headed for them, leaving trampled bushes and broken branches in his wake.

  Zack’s entire body experienced a cold chill that ran through him like a wave. He felt the color drain from his cheeks. “Run!” he started to shout.

  It was too late. The figure was within shooting range. Before either Zack or Beth could flee from their current position, the shape cleared a fallen log and raised his gun in their direction.

  Thinking quickly, Zack switched on the flashlight and shone it in the intruder’s eyes. At the same time, Beth clubbed the blinded figure over the head with a large rock. The man tumbled to the ground with a short cry of pain.

  It was then that Zack recognized the person illuminated by the flashlight.

  “Will?” he muttered, shocked.

  His friend stared back at him with squinted eyes. There was a strange expression on his face, almost empty, yet feral in some way. Will’s sweat-covered clothes were torn, and his arms and face were masked in abrasions from branches and thorns. He panted heavily and tried to rise while leaning against a tree.

  Zack switched off the flashlight. “Sorry about that.”

  Beth continue
d watching Will with a steel expression, and Zack wondered what occurred between them when the two met earlier that day. Will alluded to it before the campers retired for the night, but there was suspicion in her eyes that troubled Zack.

  “It’s okay,” Zack said to reassure her. “He’s with us.”

  Will stumbled, and Zack helped steady him.

  “That blow to the head threw me off balance,” he said. He bent over and picked up the shotgun. “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you both on accident.”

  Zack almost smiled. After being separated from his friends for so long, it was good to see one of them again. For a while, he thought it would never happen.

  Suddenly, he realized who was missing.

  “Wait a second,” Zack said, his voice filled with dread. “Where’s Cole?”

  Will’s left hand unconsciously reached toward his back pocket. “I’m so sorry, Zack. He didn’t make it.” The thunder echoed above, and more tiny raindrops spilled out of the sky.

  Zack swallowed. He closed his eyes for a moment, overcome by utter exhaustion.

  “What happened?” His voice was flat. None of the others had deserved their fates, Cole least of all. It wasn’t fair.

  “The killer got him. I barely got away.”

  “I’m sorry, Zack,” Beth said. She rested a hand on his back.

  “Then we’re the last ones,” Zack said. “Everyone else is dead.”

  “It’s not over yet,” said Beth.

  Will nodded. “The killer said he’d give us until dawn. If we can stay alive a few more hours and outlast him, we can make it out of this. It’s what Cole would have wanted,” he added for good measure.

  “You’re right,” Zack said. “Are we still going to make for the cliff?” He gestured past the trees, where Deadman’s Drop waited amidst the impending storm. Beth and Will nodded. “Then let’s go.” Zack started to emerge from the forest, but Will grabbed him.