A Sound In The Dark

by Kyle Alexander Romines

  “Wait,” Will said. “If the killer sees us on the cliff and we’re all up there, we’ll all be trapped.”

  Zack frowned. “What are you suggesting?”

  “There’s no reason for all of us to die,” Will whispered. “Two of us should take the Endless Trail and find the long way back to the lodge. The other person should grab the keys and meet us there.” Zack noticed the use of the word us. “Obviously it shouldn’t be her,” Will continued, pointing at Beth. “We’re the only ones who know where to look for the keys. And we have more experience.”

  Zack’s frown deepened. “I’m not sure I like the idea of splitting up again.” Not after he’d worked so hard to find his friends.

  “Neither do I, but we don’t have a choice,” Will said.

  “I agree,” Beth added. She looked at Zack. “You and I will make it back to the lodge and wait for your friend to join us.”

  Will shook his head. “It can’t be that way. Zack is the better climber. Besides, I’ve hurt my leg. And that bump on my head has left me shaky. With a climb that steep, we can’t risk it. It has to be Zack.”

  Your leg didn’t seem to be injured when you were running toward us earlier, Zack thought. Still, if Will wanted to take the coward’s way out, so be it.

  “Fine,” he said. He would do what needed to be done for the group. “Give me your word you’ll keep Beth safe.”

  “Of course,” Will said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. He even attempted a smile. “She’s in safe hands with me.”

  Zack started to leave again.

  “Wait,” Beth said. “Shouldn’t Zack have the gun, if he’s going up there alone?”

  Fear flashed in Will’s eyes. “He won’t be up there long,” he stammered. “It’ll be harder to make his way up the cliff while holding the gun. Besides, I’ll need it to protect you.”

  The last point hit home with Zack.

  “Agreed,” he whispered. “You two stay safe.” He grabbed Beth’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “You’re going to make it out of this.”

  He just wished he believed it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  3:23 am

  The heavens opened, unshackling the deluge that had slowly built over the course of the night. Thunder rumbled across Drifter’s Folly as faint echoes of lightning illuminated random scenes of horror strung throughout the park. Heavy drops of rain poured and poured with no apparent end in sight.

  To the man climbing the dangerous trail known as Deadman’s Drop, the rain was a simultaneous source of danger and protection. While it was true the killer would likely find it harder to track him in the dark, wetness made the incline leading to the cliff’s peak even more treacherous than usual. Without the light of the moon to guide him, Zack was faced with no option but to keep going forward. He used the flashlight when he dared, knowing full well it risked exposing his presence to any onlookers.

  Zack wondered briefly if any campers other than Will and Beth remained alive in the park. There was always the possibility Ranger Fields was alive, since Zack had never seen the man’s corpse. Even so, he knew better than to count on Fields showing up to save the day. Instead, it fell to Zack to retrieve the keys to the van. Zack grabbed the trunk of a small tree and pulled himself forward, almost slipping on a wet rock in the process. He collapsed under the tree to catch his breath.

  He was soaked to the bone. Zack reached into his pocket for the flashlight. He shone the beam into the darkness below, turned the light off, and waited for a response. For a moment, there was nothing other than the pitter-pattering of the rain. A few seconds later, he saw Beth’s light coming from the trees. She and Will had seen his signal, and they had started on their way down the Endless Trail. Returning the flashlight to his pocket, Zack climbed to his feet. The storm thundered on, ignoring the man slowly making his way up the steep cliff.

  It wasn’t long before he almost slipped again. He remembered falling on his way down Deadman’s Drop as his friends tore down the trail to escape the killer hours ago. He was lucky he hadn’t broken his neck then and there. He survived that, and he promised himself he would survive this. Getting his friends out of this mess gave him a purpose, a reason to live. He promised Ron he would keep Beth alive, and he didn’t intend to break his word—even if that meant putting himself in danger. Zack didn’t have to be a mind reader to see the worry in Beth’s eyes when Will paired himself with her. He wasn’t blind. A troubling change had taken place in his friend. Unfortunately, he was out of options. If anyone could reach the top of Whispering Reach in this weather, it was Zack.

  That the majestic splendor of the park hours earlier had morphed into the terrifying landscape surrounding him now wasn’t lost on Zack. Higher and higher he climbed, occasionally stopping to signal to the pair below or to regain his bearings. Eventually he neared the top of the trail. The peak was in sight, and he could just see the tip of the tent from the trail. Zack slowed his pace. Lightning flashed around him, piercing the blackness with eerie light. Most of the park was visible from the cliff. Zack could see the recreation area, the rivers flowing into the lake, and even the trail leading to the cemetery he’d stumbled across earlier.

  The rainfall wasn’t quite as heavy atop Whispering Reach, and Zack could see several breaks in the storm from the cliff. A prolonged bout of thunder told him not to mistake the temporary lull for a sign the storm had reached its end. He scanned the landscape below for any sign of movement. Other than the trees swaying in the wind, there was none to be found. Zack shone his light at the trees below, flicking it off and on twice to let the others know that he’d reached the top. He took in a deep breath, stepped off the trail, and onto the peak.

  The campsite appeared largely the same as they left it. The back of the tent, which remained partially unzipped, flapped harshly to and fro in the wind. In contrast, the front of the tent stood largely still, as if beckoning him inward. The fire had long since died away. The rain quickly extinguished any embers that endured.

  Zack felt a chill run down his spine. There was an eerie feeling in returning to the place where one of his friends had been murdered only hours ago. This was where it all started. Zack hoped this was where the nightmare would end. The edge of the forest lay several feet from the tent, shrouded in darkness in the absence of moonlight. After pausing for a moment, Zack took a few steps forward. The skin crawled on the back of his neck. Like before, he couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong. He looked from side to side, searching for something out of place. When no deranged figure appeared under the trees, he figured he was alone.

  Lightning flashed, and he saw a trail of blood leading from the tent. As darkness returned, Zack switched on the flashlight. Its beam flickered, growing dim.

  “Not now,” he muttered, tapping it against his leg. The light grew strong again. Using the light, he followed the trail of blood until he saw something resting in the dirt beyond the tent. Even in the shadows, he could tell it was a human body.

  Steve, he realized. The corpse unsettled him. After shooting him, the killer had dragged Steve out of the tent and did God-knew-what with him. Or perhaps Steve stumbled out of the tent all on his own, looking for the friends who abandoned him in the few seconds of life he had left. Zack quickly switched the light off and looked away in disgust.

  I promise you, the man who did this will pay, Zack thought. He and the others would survive this and alert the police, but first he needed the keys. Zack turned away from the body and sprinted toward the tent. He hesitated at the entrance before being swallowed by the darkness as he stepped inside. He switched the flashlight back on. According to Will, the keys to the van were inside his pack. He found the pack next to his friend’s sleeping bag. Thrusting shaking hands inside the bag, he looked for the keys in the pack’s front pouch.

  It was empty.

  The flashlight
flickered and went out. This time, the light didn’t return when he shook the flashlight. Zack swore as he grappled in the lightless tent. He tore through the rest of the pack and felt blindly for the keys. They were nowhere to be found. A wave of panic rose within him.

  Lightning flashed over Whispering Reach, illuminating the body outside the tent. As Zack scrambled to find the keys, he didn’t see the body start to move. The figure rose silently, unnoticed by the camper amid the darkness. The rain drowned out all noise outside the tent. As he slid forward like a ghost, the shadow reached into a holster and took out a jagged hunting knife.

  “Come on,” Zack whispered angrily. He dropped to the ground and fumbled around in the dark. If the keys weren’t in the pack, then where were they?

  Zack bumped into something large under one of the blankets. He pulled the sheet back just as the lightning flashed again. In the white light he could see Steve’s pale face, forever frozen in horror. His heart had been cut out.

  A horrifying realization dawned on him.

  If that’s Steve, then whose body was outside the tent?

  He looked back at the exact moment the killer came at him with the knife. Zack kicked back desperately. The killer stumbled backward against the side of the tent. As Zack tried to crawl out the back of the tent, the killer recovered and grabbed his leg.

  “Get back here,” Crowe said, pouncing onto him. Zack pushed against the killer’s strength, lost his balance, and the two fell to the ground. The killer had him pinned. Unmasked, the killer’s face was every bit as savage as Zack had imagined. Only the eyes were wrong somehow. Before, the Hunter’s eyes had been black. This man’s eyes were green.

  “You’re the tiebreaker,” Crowe whispered as he struggled to bury the knife into the man beneath him. Zack fought back with a strength that surprised him, but his energy was fleeting. The knife inched closer and closer to the camper’s face.

  Zack reached out blindly with his free hand, trying to grab anything in the darkness. His hand found the dead flashlight, and he brought it up hard against the killer’s head. The move shifted the balance of the struggle enough for Zack to push himself free. Lightning flashed, and the two men stood facing each other in the tent. The killer grinned, still holding the knife. He was taunting him. Zack bumped against the supply kit and silently reached inside. His hand closed around a screwdriver.

  “I’m going to enjoy this,” Crowe said, advancing with the knife.

  Instead of trying to run, Zack charged him holding the screwdriver. Crowe lashed out with the knife, but he wasn’t fast enough. As he cut through the man’s flesh with the knife, he felt searing pain.

  Zack heard the killer scream when he jammed the screwdriver into his eye. The instrument didn’t penetrate far enough to kill the murderer, though it put out the eye. Zack didn’t have time to gloat. He could feel himself bleeding where the killer’s knife had cut him across the chest. Zack blocked out the pain and stumbled out of the tent. He started toward the forest when he saw something glowing on the ground in the moonlight.

  The keys! Steve must have grabbed them when he was trying to escape. Zack turned back and scooped up the keys. Thunder rolled loudly above. The killer stood just outside the tent. He ripped the screwdriver out and unleashed a scream laden with rage. The killer stood between Zack and the forest. There was no going back down Deadman’s Drop.

  Crowe lifted a gun into the air.

  Zack took a few steps back. His shoes slid over the wet ground. He cast a glance behind him. He was pushed to the edge of Whispering Reach. Dire Lake rested behind him. Certain death lay ahead. Zack pivoted, wheeled around, and began sprinting for the edge.

  The killer pulled the trigger.

  Zack stumbled as the first bullet ripped into him, but managed to keep going. He reached the end of the cliff and jumped as the killer pulled the trigger again.

  “Lily,” Zack whispered as he fell, pelted by rain. He closed his eyes and let the water wash over him.

  In the sky, the clouds once again swallowed the moon.

  ***

  The storm passed over Red Pine Forest, leaving almost total silence in its wake. Torrents of rain turned to droplets before finally fading to a light mist. Only the darkness remained. As the wind died down, a few pine needles fluttered down into a deep hole dug into the earth. Once cleverly masked by brush and branches, the pit was now exposed.

  One of the pine needles landed gently on the man sprawled out at the bottom of the hole. The man moaned, awakening to pain and blackness. Cole’s eyes snapped open. It took several moments for him to be able to think clearly amid the aching of his body.

  Where am I? he wondered, grappling about in the mud. He could no longer feel his injured foot at all. Cole blindly pressed against a dirt wall with his left hand in an attempt to find the edge. The wall continued upwards indefinitely. As he pushed himself against the wall, Cole attempted to stand. He screamed as soon as he tried moving his legs. Cole slid and sank into the mud. His breath came out in short, labored gasps. Cole gingerly brought his hand to his chest. Several of his ribs felt broken.

  He remained still for several moments until some of the pain slowly abated. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, and he began to put together what had happened. Seeing the intruder in the tent, stepping on the bear trap, being abandoned by Will—all of it. The last thing he remembered was the ground opening beneath his feet.

  It was yet another of the traps in the forest, just like the landmines or the bear trap. Without his glasses, Cole had run right into it. He reached out cautiously to feel his surroundings. His right hand had difficulty responding to his thoughts. It too felt broken, and Cole could feel dislocated bone protruding through his skin. A wave of nausea welled inside him.

  Cole shivered. His clothes were soaking wet, probably from a mixture of the rain and the small pool of water filling the hole. He was covered in mud. The smell of the water seemed like gasoline to him, but in his haze he wasn’t sure why.

  How long was I out? Cole wondered. The Hunter was almost upon them when Will had abandoned him. Cole prayed he’d managed to put enough distance between himself and the Hunter before falling into the hole. As it was, he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

  He tried removing his cell phone from his pocket before remembering that Will had stolen it. The night’s chaos had exposed an inner savagery in Will that Cole had always suspected was there, though Zack was always blind to it. In the midst of his desperation, a thought suddenly struck him. What about the two-way radio? Cole reached into his other pants pocket. He froze as his hands once again grasped empty space. It was gone.

  Cole wasn’t ready to die. He had too much to do in life. Besides, Zack needed him, especially if Will was as far gone as Cole believed. A man who would do whatever it took to survive was someone who was extremely dangerous. Cole needed to get out of the hole. He had to find some way to warn his friend.

  As the clouds continued their retreat across the sky, moonlight spilled into the pit. Cole looked up in despair. The way out was so close, yet so far away at the same time. Even if the slick wall was climbable, his body was too mangled to attempt the feat.

  That was when he spotted the two-way radio. It loomed at the opposite end of the pit, just above the pool of water covering the base of the hole. It must have fallen out when he fell. Praying the device was still functional, Cole tried to reposition himself so that he could attempt to reach it. He winced. Even the slightest movement brought searing pain. This was going to take some time.

  A loud cracking noise echoed above the wind, which had died down to a faint whisper. The sound made his blood run cold. He could hear distinct footsteps growing closer. They grew louder with each second that passed.

  “Guys?” he called into the night, hoping against hope his friends had found him.

  The footsteps stopped
. No one answered. In that moment, Cole knew the killer had come for him. The how or why no longer mattered—all that mattered was warning the others. Eyeing the two-way radio, he made a desperate effort to reach the device. He crawled forward in the mud, moving through the pain. Each inch brought new levels of agony.

  The footsteps started again. Cole was aware he was being watched. Tapping his last reserve of strength, he stretched his body out and pushed toward the end of the hole. A shadowy figure appeared above and blocked the moonlight from streaming into the hole. Cole reached out, grasping for the antenna. He felt the fingers of his right hand touch the end of the device.

  It slipped out of his grip. It was over. Cole braced himself for bullets that never came. When he looked up, the figure was gone. Gritting his teeth, Cole seized the opportunity and dragged himself forward a few more inches. This time, he grabbed the two-way radio and clutched it tightly in his hands. He was overcome with relief.

  A twig snapped above, and Cole’s eyes widened in fear. The killer had been watching the entire time, waiting to see if he would reach the radio. Cole stared up at the killer, who bore into him with black eyes that seemed to shine in the night. The man reached into his pocket and took out a small object. Cole squinted, trying to see what he was doing.

  The Hunter lit a match and held it gently in his fingers, examining the flame.

  Cole pressed the call button on the radio, desperately trying to reach his friends. He heard what sounded like a voice masked by static on the other end.

  The Hunter dropped the match into the hole.

  As the light was descending, it finally dawned on Cole why the pool of water in the hole smelled like gasoline. He didn’t have time to think anything else. His body erupted into flame. His finger still on the call button, with his last breath he uttered an unearthly scream.