The Hot Guy in the Woods

by London Casey

  “Look!” Rachel yelled triumphantly.

  The fire lasted less than a minute.

  “Fine,” Megan said. “All the guys stand here and keep throwing stuff into the fire pit. End of discussion. This is your fault.”

  “Our fault?” Alex asked. “How the hell is it our fault?”

  “We brought the booze,” Ryan said.

  “But not enough firewood,” Megan said. “How smart.”

  “Shut up, Megan.”

  “Hey,” Josh said. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

  “What are you doing to do?” Ryan asked.

  “Really?” Josh asked.

  The two had a little face-off before Alex split them up.

  “Holy shit,” Alex said. “Everyone take a breather. We’ll figure this out. We’re smart. Worst case…we prop up a cellphone with one of those fire videos, right?”

  Everyone laughed.

  It eased the tension.

  I silently threw them all the middle finger.

  I wanted to go home.

  So bad.

  I looked into the woods.

  An idea came to me.

  The worst idea ever.

  I was going to walk home…tonight.

  2

  A Pile of Wood

  (OSIRIS)

  Some days it felt good to be in pain. Well, a different kind of pain. The pain where my arms hurt like hell. My legs felt like they were going to give up. My back muscles were twisted and beat-up. And my clothes were soaked with sweat, even though it wasn’t all that hot out.

  To survive up in the cabin, I had to get a job. I gave up that normal life a long time ago. It made sense to find a lumberyard to work in. There was plenty of work. The pay was shit. The hours were long. But I got cash, sometimes a handshake, and nobody really asked a shit-ton of questions about me. If anything, they were more fascinated with my name rather than why I was living in a cabin in the woods. The other guys were split down the middle. Half had wives and kids. The other half would finish up, clean up, and head into town to drink themselves silly and hope they’d wake up in some woman’s bed.

  They had this game where they’d take a picture of the bed to prove they got laid. They were respectful enough to not take a picture of the woman they were in bed with, though.

  Me?

  I just busted ass. From the time I showed up until I left.

  I got myself trained to use every piece of equipment we had. I offered my insights on business to the owner—a gruff guy named Jerry—who told me I should have my own business.

  When he said that, I just fucking laughed. Been there, done that.

  Today, it was about moving logs and getting them cut up. Hour after hour, grabbing, lifting, holding, carrying giant pieces of lumber from one spot of the yard to the other. Jerry had three guys out with the two machines we had to work at another spot to replenish our load. Apparently, we got some big-ass order and needed to have everything cut and cleaned as soon as possible. Jerry told me he was going to personally cut me a bonus check for helping him get the deal and do most of the work.

  Honestly, I didn’t care about money. I had what I had, and that was good enough.

  The end of the day came, and Jerry made me go home.

  He handed me a container of food. “From Linda. She makes a damn good meatloaf. But she makes so much of it. Our one son, Bill, was supposed to come over to dinner last night but cancelled. Take the leftovers for yourself.”

  “Yeah, sure,” I said. “Thanks, Jerry.”

  “Hey, Syi,” Jerry said.

  That was my nickname.

  “Yeah?”

  “How long are you going to be up here?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Here. This place. You think I don’t know…”

  “I appreciate the meatloaf,” I said.

  “Come on, Syi. Don’t play that game with me. I know what happened. Being up here can’t be easy.”

  “It’s as close as I’ll ever be,” I said.

  Jerry rubbed his forehead. He had huge, club-like fingers with flat fingernails. “Okay. You’re taking whatever bonus I give you.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said. “Save it for your wife and kids, Jerry. And maybe retirement. Go somewhere else.”

  Jerry laughed. “Guys like me don’t retire, Syi. We work until we drop dead.”

  “Then I guess I’ll see you at the finish line,” I said.

  “Oh, trust me, I’ll be there long before you even sniff it. Enjoy the meatloaf.”

  I climbed into my truck and tossed the container across the seat.

  It was no secret what happened up on the mountain. The story followed me like a damn curse. Sometimes people made the connection, sometimes they didn’t.

  It took me a good twenty minutes through the woods, dirt roads, paved roads, and more dirt roads to get back to my cabin.

  I still hated going inside the damn place. I always sat there for a few minutes after a long day and stared at it.

  I shook my head.

  I grabbed my dinner from the passenger seat and went inside.

  Semi-warm meatloaf and a cold beer filled my belly soon enough. I showered and changed from flannel into another flannel, and I was hungry again.

  My look matched where I lived. A wild beard, messy hair, and wide and thick shoulders and arms from moving so many damn trees, usually at least sixty hours a week. What didn’t quite match were the tattoos. But that was from a different life. I couldn’t wash those away or erase them like my mind used to do with other stuff.

  I made a sandwich and climbed the stairs to the loft area of the cabin.

  Where she was going to write her first of many bestselling novels.

  I sat at the desk and took out a map. I unfolded it and spread my hands across it. I then taped each corner down so it wouldn’t try to fold up on me. The corners had been taped so many times that they were faded and ripped.

  There were several marks and drawings on the map, all of which made perfect sense to me. I put my finger to the map where my cabin stood. I then looked at the black X where the stone bench and willow tree was. Maybe about a quarter mile away, if that. That’s where the damn ridge was.

  I had worked my way down the ridge as far as I could on my own.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  It wasn’t good enough.

  It wasn’t fucking good enough.

  I balled up a fist and slammed it to the desk.

  The map was big. And everything on the map was bigger in real life.

  I had work ahead of me. Years of work ahead of me.

  But it was my commitment.

  I was going to find what I fucking lost.

  I thought about getting a dog every day. Something to talk to. Something to distract me a little here and there. Something to keep me company on my crazy-long walks. But that meant showing care and affection to another living, breathing thing.

  So, I walked alone in the woods. I told myself I wasn’t searching, but I knew that was a lie. I was always searching. I remember as a kid my grandmother would pray to St. Anthony. The whole religion aspect was taken to the grave when she passed at a young age. My mother’s religion was at the bottom of a bottle, and my father’s religion was in the bathroom sink of a bar, lining up whatever he could snort up his nose.

  For me, it was forever about survival.

  When I’d lose something or my grandmother would…hell, if anyone lost something…she would say pray to St. Anthony. She would clutch her hands tight and look up. She’d say his name a few times, then smile at me. She’d tell me to wait it out. Sure as anything, whatever was lost would show itself. Sometimes it was freaky. Other times it was just remembering where the hell you tossed your keys when you got home from the grocery store. As far as being in the woods, the whole St. Anthony trick was as useful as those who promised they would get me answers. Not that I was one to take on religion or look up into the sky and wonder what the hell was actually out there, but it wo
uld have been fucking nice to have a little luck.

  I heard the first noise mid-thought, and I stopped. Then I heard more noises.

  My heart instantly started racing. Thundering heartbeats, as what always happened when I heard a noise in the woods. My heart convinced my mind to think thoughts that were simply impossible. But in those fleeting seconds, there was something that rarely came to me.

  Hope.

  I charged through the woods, following the sound.

  It was dark out, and I had a flashlight in my pocket, but I would only use it for an emergency. I had trained my body and eyes to appreciate the woods in the dark. I heightened my sense of sight, smell, and my sense of direction. In some ways…no, nevermind.

  It took me about two minutes to find the source of the noise. I stopped short and was able to see through the trees. There was a group of people standing there. They surrounded a fire that had gone out, red-orange embers glowing into the dark. All but two had cellphones out, their flashlights turned on. There was a propane lantern hung from a tree that burned bright, too. Which left my eyes to find a woman leaning against a tree, all alone.

  For a second, I thought maybe she wasn’t supposed to be there.

  “Hey, Lara, you got an idea?” someone called out to her.

  Lara.

  She shrugged her shoulders. I saw the way she took a step, stumbled, stepped back.

  She was drunk. They were all drunk.

  Fucking people partying on the damn mountain.

  I gritted my teeth.

  “Well, we have no firewood,” someone said. “You guys really are assholes for this.”

  “I thought I grabbed enough. How many times do I have to say it?”

  I looked around the makeshift campsite.

  They had propane. They had light. I hoped to hell they had food and a way to cook food besides fire.

  My eyes counted six tents.

  Then my gaze stopped on Lara again.

  She was looking down, using the tip of her shoe to dig in the ground. She did not want to be there at all. I read her body language from the distance.

  Someone approached her. He put an arm around her and pulled at her.

  I curled my lip.

  A bunch of fucking couples wanting to spend a night in the woods to drink and fuck each other.

  I turned and decided to mind my own fucking business.

  I walked my way through the woods unseen and unheard. Not that I had to try too hard to not make noise. I could hear their voices arguing for a good while. By the time I got back to the cabin, it was silent. The way I liked it.

  I made it up to the porch and then paused. To my right, off the porch, was one of three piles of wood I had. Sighing, I walked to the railing and looked out to the dark woods.

  It wasn’t going to get cold out. Cool, yeah, but not cold. Were those people really so stupid as to not bring firewood when they went camping? And why the hell didn’t they just cut their own when they got there?

  Because they were drinking. Like fools. Hadn’t planned anything out the right way.

  So now they were stuck.

  Maybe it wasn’t that big of a deal…

  I grabbed the railing and pulled myself forward so I could jump over to the ground. I started to collect wood, balancing what I knew would be enough for the night and next morning for the unprepared idiots who were drunk and arguing. Scared of the dark.

  I laughed to myself as I walked through the woods again.

  I couldn’t just walk into their campsite and drop firewood. For all I knew, they were drunk and dumb enough to have a gun, and I’d end up shot.

  So, a little bit before the campsite, I crouched and slowly dumped the wood.

  I could hear them but barely see them.

  Through the sticks and branches, I saw Lara. The same guy standing there with her. An arm around her.

  It was a subtle reminder that I needed to clean up a little soon and head into town for a little comfort. Nothing serious. Nothing ever serious. And the rules were pretty fucking straightforward with me. It was a need, not a want.

  I backed away from the wood on the ground and shook my head. I really hoped they were smart enough to find the fucking wood.

  As I turned away, I let all of it slip my mind. The guys would find the wood, look like heroes, and get laid.

  Me? I was doing what I was meant to do. Slip away into the darkness.

  It wasn't going to be the only time I saved Lara that night.

  3

  I’m Drunk, I Need a Bench

  (LARA)

  “I got wood!” Alex called out from somewhere in the woods.

  At that point, the campsite was a handful of cellphone flashlights moving around. Megan had turned down the propane lamp because the guys also only brought one container of propane. And food? Good luck there. They had brought some food and planned on cooking over an open fire.

  “I got some big wood!” Alex yelled.

  That was followed by laughing. It sounded like a bunch of dumb jocks in high school or some drunk frat boys giggling at each other.

  Kim stood next to me, holding a beer. She threw an elbow at me, spilling some of my rum.

  “You hear that? Alex has big wood for you.”

  “Gross,” I said.

  “Not gross,” Kim said with meaning. “Have some fun!”

  “I’m not having fun,” I said, my drunk mind speaking the truth.

  “Oh,” Kim said. “Sorry for trying then.”

  “Hey, don’t get pissy at me.”

  “I’m not. But you’re so fucking lost, Lara. What do I do? You almost lost everything in your life over Thad. You’re lucky my parents felt bad and gave you a job.”

  “Wow. Thanks.”

  “No. Maybe you need to hear it this way. You were working as some kind of fancy analyst. You were making real money. Now what are you doing? Cutting flowers? Putting bouquets togethers? Taking orders from people? Dealing with my parents and my dumbass brother. Seriously. Is that what you want?”

  I swallowed hard. “Fuck off, Kim.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

  “Look at this,” Alex said as he came into view. Matt and Josh were on each side of him, shining their cellphone flashlights down at the pile of wood in Alex’s arms. “This is perfect.”

  “Where did you find that?” Megan asked.

  “Not too far from here.”

  “It’s cut and everything,” Rachel said.

  “Someone probably left it up here,” Ryan said. “We got lucky.”

  “I feel weird,” Megan said. “Like we’re in a horror movie. Maybe the killer put the wood there for us to find. And then he’s gonna get us…”

  I watched as Josh turned off his light and crept around the fire pit.

  Alex crouched and put the firewood on the ground. He grabbed a log and quickly started to stir what was left of the dying embers. He ordered Matt and Ryan to get some sticks.

  “Does anyone agree with me?” Megan asked.

  “Maybe,” Rachel said. “In fact…Megan. Don’t…look…back…”

  Megan turned, and Josh was right there. He grabbed her and picked her up, playfully attacking her.

  She screamed.

  He growled.

  “I vant to suck yur blooood,” Josh said and put his mouth to Megan’s neck.

  I rolled my eyes and turned.

  “Don’t be jealous,” Kim said. “Hate me all you want, but you were just staring at Alex. And I saw him all over you before. Don’t be a fool over this, Lara.”

  I gritted my teeth. I looked back at Kim. Then at the fire pit. Alex had a fire going again. The sticks and leaves were catching easily. Then he started to add the bigger logs.

  “You don’t get it,” I said to Kim. “And I hope you never do get it.”

  “What don’t I get?” Kim asked. “I ask out of love, Lara. Because this isn’t fair to see you like this.”

  I caught myself touching my stomach.
r />   I looked to the woods. The dark, dark woods.

  “Nothing,” I said. “I’m going to bed.”

  “You can’t go to bed,” Kim said. “The fire’s just starting again. We have the rest of the night to party.”

  Kim looked ready to cry. She had always been a crybaby. Mommy and Daddy’s perfect princess. She got the newest toys. The newest technology and crap. On her sixteenth birthday, there was a car in the driveway with a red bow on it. And if she didn’t get her way…watch out.

  So, I lied.

  “Fine,” I said. “Let me go get a hoodie. I’ll be right there.”

  Kim smiled and walked away.

  I went to the tent. I was supposed to share it with Kim. But it already smelled like sex. She and Matt…whatever.

  I got my hoodie and then snuck around to the back of the tent.

  I looked back to the party. I raised my rum glass and nodded.

  “See you later,” I whispered.

  I was going to go for a quick walk. Or maybe just walk home.

  How hard could it be to get out of the woods?

  My brain was drunk and my heart was drunker. Drunk on rum, my brain thought I could do anything. Drunk on heartache, my heart didn’t have enough courage to tell my brain that I was making a huge mistake.

  I checked my phone, and I had been walking for almost twenty minutes. I felt like it should have been morning already, though.

  And I was lost.

  Completely, utterly lost. Not the kind of lost Kim said I was—which I was, too—but also lost-lost. Lost in the woods. The dark woods. The cool air pushing against me. Slight moisture in the air making my skin slick and my hoodie sticky. I had my cellphone, half a charged battery, and I really just didn’t care.

  That was the worst part of it all.

  I felt empty.

  No panic. No fear.

  Just taking step after step.

  Danger didn’t seem possible because, I was already broken down so much.

  Another ten minutes went by.

  I thought I heard a noise.

  I spun around and fumbled for my phone. It fell from my hands. It plunged into darkness and hit the ground.