I Dare You

by Jeff Ross

  I ran back to the road and got into Jordan’s car.

  “You still hear me?” I said into my phone.

  “I’m still on the phone. So yeah, I can hear you.”

  “What are we doing?” Jordan asked.

  “Drive back up the road a bit, and turn around.” I got my old phone out. I’d done a factory reset so there wouldn’t be any personal information stored. I’d strip anything from it before posting anyway. “Then I’ll get Rowan to start walking. When he comes out of the woods, slow down and steer away from him. Try not to hit him dead-on with your headlights.”

  As Jordan was turning the car around, he said, “I can see the lights in the woods.”

  “You won’t in the video. Forget what you can see right now.”

  Jordan turned a perfect one-eighty about half a mile from where we’d been.

  “Try and get up to a regular speed. So when we get close you’ll have to hit the brakes a little.”

  “Should I slide out?”

  “A little.” I had the old iPhone up in front of me. I’d edit the video before I posted it, so I decided to start filming right away. I rested one arm on the dashboard so there’d be a bit of sway to the video. It was so dark that the only things visible were directly in front of the headlights. “Okay. In five seconds say, ‘What’s that?’ Rowan, start walking. Five, four, three, two, one.”

  “What’s that?” Jordan’s voice cracked.

  Perfect.

  Rowan shuffled out of the woods at exactly the right moment. Jordan hit the brakes—harder than I’d expected. The phone fell from my hands. I picked it up as it slid toward me. Jordan was steering the car sideways. The headlights were all over the place. I got the phone back in position and caught Rowan as he was slipping back into the woods. I managed to hold the phone directly on him for a moment. There was a flash of lightning in the distance.

  Jordan threw an arm over his mouth and said, “What is that thing?” Exhaust drifted past the headlights. I could just make out Rowan moving through the trees. All he was doing was walking. One foot in front of the other, moving around the trees. But it looked eerie. As though he was floating.

  I shut the video down and looked over at Jordan.

  “That was perfect,” I said.

  “Holy shit, that was awesome.”

  “Are we done?” Rowan asked.

  “One second. Stay there. In case we need another take.” I flicked through the video as quickly as possible. It looked great. It was hard to be certain, but it seemed like it would work. “I think it’s good.”

  “You sure?” Jordan asked.

  “No. But we should leave before someone spots us out here. If we have to come back, we have to come back.”

  “Yeah. Okay. Rowan, you still there?”

  “Where the fuck would I go?”

  “Go to my car,” I said. “It’s, like, twenty feet from you.” We could hear Rowan shuffling around.

  “Where…oh, forget it. I see it.”

  I put my phones in my pockets. “Drop me up there,” I said. “I’ll take Rowan home.”

  “This is so awesome,” Jordan said.

  “Awesome, awesome, awesome, awesome,” I said, and I wasn’t even ticcing out.

  Chapter Six

  Two days later the video was everywhere. It took so little to get it started, but once something like that is started, it’s hard to stop it. I countered a lot of the “It’s fake” messages with “Looks pretty real to me.” That’s the thing about people—they want to believe. It might be stupid to believe, and what they’re seeing might defy explanation, but they want to believe.

  “They think it’s real because they’re idiots,” Jordan said.

  I didn’t want to think that, but it was hard not to. My mom thought it was real. Or, at least, she said she found it “odd.” Dad thought it was some creep who likely lived in the woods. When online news picked up on it, people started tearing the video apart. Looking for hints of where it was shot. I was pleased I’d stripped away the identifying information. It didn’t take long, though, for some internet detectives to figure out it had to be in our area.

  The lightning was the first clue. Someone spotted it in the video and then searched out all the places in the world where lightning had occurred that night. We should have put a different story on the video, I thought. Instead of THIS came out of the woods at us last night, I should have done an I caught this a bit ago and have been too afraid to share. The internet detectives’ next step, apparently, would be looking at the vegetation, the side of the road we were driving on, the rocks and then the yield sign in the distance.

  I hadn’t even noticed the sign.

  It was nothing more exciting than a yield sign, but apparently was clearly American in style.

  Within two days our general area had been targeted.

  “It’s fine,” Jordan said.

  But I was worried. Especially since we’d added I dare you to find this thing yourself. The last thing we needed was people combing our area, looking for some weird thing in the woods.

  “There are some people who are really serious about this shit,” I said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “They investigate it. They need to know. They want to debunk these types of things. Or prove they’re true.”

  Jordan’s smile grew. “Perfect! They can duke it out.”

  Someone dropped a plate of dishes in the kitchen of the coffee shop. The place went quiet for a minute before someone clapped, someone asked if everything was all right, and then we all went back to our individual conversations. “What are you worried about?”

  “Nothing, I guess.”

  “Good, because we’re going to do another one right away.”

  “What? Why?”

  “We need to give some ammunition to the believers.” He pointed at my screen, which showed that the number of views continued to climb. We were on the cusp of making money from it. The problem was, I’d used a fake email and name to put it up. I was certain there were ways to hide who you were and still get paid. But having seen the way people were investigating every aspect of the video, I couldn’t imagine getting away with it.

  “You want to make a new video?”

  “One more. Then we move on to something else.” Jordan was shaking his head at the screen.

  “What?”

  “Idiots,” he said. “Gullible idiots. A boogeyman coming out of the woods. Yeah, for sure, that’s real.” He kept shaking his head.

  I’d enjoyed making the video and was amazed at how many people believed what they saw. But I was beginning to feel as though Jordan and I were in this for totally different reasons.

  “Some people just question things,” I said. “Like, they glance at the video and think maybe.”

  “Yeah, which is stupid. Like, give it a second of thought. Anyway.”

  “Is Rowan into doing another video?”

  “Yeah, I’ll get him to do it. Let’s go tonight, before anyone actually figures out the location.”

  “Same spot?”

  “May as well. Keep it authentic.” Jordan downed his coffee and stood. “You want a real camera or just use that iPhone again?”

  “Let’s get a real camera. Then we can do it like we were waiting out there. You know? We found the location and filmed the thing.” My mind was racing again. “I can make a new account for it. Someone who says he wants to keep this thing to himself. But then we’re done with it, right?”

  “I’m done if you’re done,” Jordan said.

  The words swirled. They ached in my brain. I’d been trying to control the tics lately, even though I knew I just needed to let them flow. The longer I kept the swirling feeling inside, the longer each tic lasted.

  I gave two whistles, a head shake and a flip with my left hand, and it was gone. Like a wave slightly bigger than all the other waves inside my brain had rolled up and then washed itself out on the beach.

  “We can do something else after th
is,” I said. “Something legit.”

  “Sure,” Jordan said. “Why not? I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  “Cool,” I said. Then, as Jordan walked away, “Cool cool cool cool cool.”

  Chapter Seven

  Using a real camera would make a difference. It would be higher quality, but I’d also be able to work with it more in the editing software. I also had to be that much more careful. We decided to take a more investigative approach. Jordan would do the talking and be in the video, but he would never turn around. The camera was full HD and had a mounted light. I dialed the light back so it wasn’t fully on but still made the area glow. We were lucky—the rain had passed and the sky was cloudless. A big moon sat low behind us.

  “You ready, Rowan?” I asked.

  “This is the last time,” Rowan replied. “Stumbling around in the stupid woods.”

  “Are you ready?”

  “Yes, fuck.”

  I turned the camera on and angled it low enough to keep Jordan’s head mostly out of the frame.

  “Go.”

  Jordan began walking, looking at the ground. “It was around here that I saw the markings. They weren’t, like, footprints. Just…I don’t know, drag marks?” He turned his head slightly. Almost enough to show a full profile, but stopping just short. He looked back down, scuffed the ground with his foot. He’d put on a pair of his dad’s tasseled shoes.

  We were doing this without the lights in the woods, so when Rowan came out, it would be from complete darkness.

  “I thought this might be the right spot,” Jordan said. “From that other video. I’ve driven here before, and the sign and the bend in the road—it just seemed right.” He cut into the shallow ditch, and we moved along the edge of the forest. The idea was that Rowan would come out far away, Jordan would spot him, and we’d run toward him.

  I coughed into my mic, the signal for Rowan to emerge. I kept the camera low but slowly raised it.

  “I mean, it could be anything. Like, an owl caught a rabbit and dragged it out here. But the marks go deeper into the woods. I was going to follow them earlier when I was here, but I didn’t want anyone to see me.” He turned his head slightly as I had the camera roam up and over. I could see Rowan in the upper corner of the frame. But Jordan hadn’t seen him yet. Or was making like he hadn’t.

  “There were also the marks farther down.” Jordan raised his head as Rowan stepped onto the road. “Holy shit, there it is.” Jordan didn’t run right away. Who would? He stood there frozen for a moment. Then he said, “We have to get closer.”

  He started to run.

  And then the area around Rowan was brighter. At first I was confused. I hadn’t set any lights, so it wasn’t coming from us. And the camera’s light wouldn’t go that far. Rowan was on the side of the road, and I could see him turning his head away from us. Jordan was still running, stumbling as he tried to climb back onto the road. The lights got brighter, illuminating the entire area. And then the car appeared.

  At first it seemed as though it would just drive past. Then the headlights fully hit Rowan, and the driver steered hard, putting the car into a slide. Rowan jumped into the ditch as the back of the car sliced past him. Jordan and I did the same, although we were far enough away that we weren’t in any danger. The car spun, went up on two wheels, hit something and rolled.

  “Holy shit,” Jordan said. The car rolled twice, then slammed into a tree on the other side of the road and lay there, upside down, smoking.

  The silence after all the noise of the screeching tires and crumpling metal was deafening.

  At first I thought Rowan was running toward the car. But he didn’t cross the road. He was trying to pull the triangle off his head. He had the fabric pulled up around his waist. He looked like a nun in a marathon.

  He came to a sliding stop beside us. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  “What?” I said. “We have to see if the driver is okay.”

  “I am not sticking around here,” Rowan said. He’d managed to get the triangle off and, without another word, was running toward Jordan’s car.

  Jordan looked at me for a moment. Then he reached out and grabbed the camera.

  “We can’t be here,” he said.

  “We have to see if the driver is okay,” I said.

  “No way.” I looked at the car and couldn’t see any movement from the driver.

  Jordan was already a few steps away from me. “Come on.”

  “We have to help.”

  Jordan raised his arms and shrugged. Then he ran to his car. Ten seconds later I was standing out there alone.

  I ran to the car. It was a black Ford, and someone inside was talking. It sounded like there were multiple people inside, but then I recognized the tinny sound of a voice coming through a small speaker.

  “Mrs. Calder, can you hear me?” the voice asked.

  The woman was upside down, restrained by her seat belt. She looked at me when I crouched beside the car.

  “Mrs. Calder, help is on its way,” the voice continued. “If you could tell me what happened…”

  Her mouth was moving like she was a fish out of water. The windscreen was shattered and dangling in front of her. The airbag had exploded and was hanging limply from the steering wheel.

  Her eyes were huge and bright and staring at me.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Who’s that?” the voice on the speaker asked. “May I ask your name? Were you in the vehicle?”

  “No, I wasn’t. I was out here.”

  The woman’s mouth kept opening and closing. A trickle of blood dripped onto the ceiling from her forehead.

  “Can you tell me the condition of Mrs. Calder? Is she breathing?”

  I put my hand in front of the woman’s face, even though I could clearly see that she was breathing.

  “Yes, she is.”

  “Is she conscious?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you tell me why she is not responding?”

  The woman’s eyes closed, then slowly opened again.

  “I think she banged her head.”

  “An ambulance has been called and is on its way. Do you hear the sirens?”

  I leaned out of the car, and the sharp smell of gasoline hit me.

  “Is there a chance the car could blow up?” I yelled. I could hear a siren in the distance. I couldn’t tell how far away it was or which direction it was coming from.

  “Do you smell gasoline?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is the car running?”

  For some reason it took me a moment to answer this. “No, it stalled out.”

  “I don’t want you to move her, but there is a slim chance that the car might combust. One moment.”

  The voice disappeared, and I had never felt so alone. The woman’s mouth had stopped opening and closing, and she looked like a bat, eyes closed, upside down. Her hair lay across the ceiling. She looked to be in her forties. Or younger. It was hard to tell.

  “You’re going to be okay,” I said. I thought she nodded. It was hard to tell.

  “Sir,” the voice came again.

  “What?”

  “I believe you should see an ambulance in a moment. Or a paramedic truck.”

  I looked away from the car again just as the woods were illuminated by headlights.

  “I do.”

  “They will take over. But please, until they arrive, stay with Mrs. Calder. You have been very helpful.”

  The ambulance stopped right next to the car and two men jumped out, pulling on gloves.

  “What’s the situation here?” one of them asked. There were more sirens. A fire truck turned the bend, its siren wailing.

  “Her car flipped, and she seems awake but isn’t talking.”

  “Hello, I’m Natalie from Roadside Assistance,” said the voice on the speaker. “Who am I talking to?”

  I backed away from the window so the paramedic could get closer.

  “This is Richard
.”

  I bumped into the other paramedic as I moved backward.

  “Whoa there. You all right, kid?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “How’d you get out of the car?”

  “I wasn’t in it.”

  The paramedic looked around, then back at me. “Where’s your car?”

  “I don’t have one.”

  He turned his head slightly sideways. “Where’d you come from?”

  “Hey, Jared,” Richard said from beside the car. “Hold her while I cut this seat belt.”

  Jared bent down and reached into the car. He angled himself so he could support the woman. The fire truck had come to a halt, and men were exiting it. No police had shown up yet, and I knew I could run. I could just run and get out of there. It would be a hike, but I could make it home in an hour.

  But I didn’t. I just stood there. For what felt like forever.

  Chapter Eight

  When the police got around to questioning me, I lied, but first of all, I’m not very good at it, and secondly, my lie was super unconvincing. I’d been running, I said. At night, on a road in the middle of nowhere, in jeans.

  Even to me it sounded totally stupid, but I just couldn’t come up with anything else.

  The police were busy dealing with the crime scene for a while, so I sat in the back of the cruiser and tried to figure out what other stories I could tell. The only thing close was that I had seen the video online, thought I recognized the place and gone to investigate. But still, it was an hour from my house, and I didn’t have a car. The problem with any kind of lie, though, is that you have to stick with it. I couldn’t suddenly give them something else. And I’d be admitting I was a moron who’d been duped by some stupid video. I couldn’t bring myself to do that.

  Meanwhile, my phone kept binging with text messages from Jordan. They were weird: Hey, what are you up to tonight? Hit me back if yer bored.

  When the cops, two of them, returned to the cruiser, they seemed to forget I was there. We drove for a while as they talked about how the accident could have been much worse and speculated on what had happened to the woman’s ability to speak.

  “Is she going to be okay?” I asked.