Page 27 of While They Watch

I hear my mother’s voice in the darkness. She murmurs comforting words into my ear, telling me it’s all okay. That I’ll survive this, that I’m good. The thought of her reminds me of music; she loves music. I softly hum, to the stars and to myself, a lullaby she would sing for me. I can hear her so clearly that it’s like she’s here with me. As a child, I would be hypnotized by this ethereal melody and it brings me right back to those memories and emotions. I can feel her arms wrapped around me as I close my eyes and hold onto her. When the song comes to its end, I stop. The forest is silent around me. The wind in the trees is at a standstill, like everything is listening and waiting. As I feel tempted to sit up and look out into the night, somewhere deep in the woods someone is humming my lullaby back to me. It’s not my voice but something higher, a child’s voice. A little closer, another voice joins, this time older and more weathered. All around me, more join in creating the most haunting harmony reverberating through the trees. I can feel the music in my body.

My eyes feel heavy as I begin to float outside my body. I wonder if this is a dream. If it’s not, I think…this would be an okay last memory.

_____

Night goes slow; the creatures never fully leave. They come and go for hours, making all sorts of noise but never coming up. Instead, they stay just beyond where I am. The few times I gave in and looked down, nothing was ever there. I found myself in a horrible cycle of trying to sleep, starting to drift away, being woken up by their terrible screams and then looking over the edge to find myself always alone. Eventually I stopped wondering. I fell deeper into a place of only waiting. I spent the last part of the night staring at the stars, letting my life play out in my mind. Letting myself wonder what it could look like after this, if there will be a life after.

It’s been quiet for a while. I assume they’ve gone back to wherever it is they stay during the day, but I can’t be sure anymore. That theory seems less true now that I’ve seen them out during the daytime. They seem to be becoming more omnipresent the longer I’m in the woods but at least they’re quiet when the sun is out. The moon is their companion of chaos.

I wobble as I get to my feet, wincing when I put weight on my injured foot but as I become steadier, I walk to the edge of the structure. Everything inside of me is fighting to not look down, but I need to confront what I’ve done. When I lower my gaze, I’m shocked to find that her body has disappeared, not even any blood is left behind, as if it never happened. I stall, wanting to let myself live in a world where I didn’t shoot someone. I want it not to have happened. To know it wasn’t real. But when I close my eyes, I can see her so clearly. I can smell the iron in the air. It’s engraved in my mind. I can still feel her blood on my hands.

My breath moves in and out of my lungs in a frenzy, until I topple backwards and fall. When I open my eyes, I see the gun lying next to me. A sudden fury takes over and I pick it up, flinging it over the wall to the ground below. I watch the gun fly out of my hands and notice that they’re clean too. There isn’t any blood on them, not even between my fingers. I look down at my pants; the stains that should be there are gone. A chuckle escapes out of me. This isn’t real. I cover my face with my hands, hysterical laughter overwhelming me. None of this is fucking real.

I jump up, my hysteria giving me a moment of determination. I’m getting out of here. My fear, pain, and isolation are working together to attack my mind. I limp the few steps over to the backpack, grabbing it before leaving what could be my last safe space. Now that I’m not in such a hurry I see this perch had a door the entire time. The mechanism to open it is simple and makes maneuvering my sore body down much easier.

Once I’m on the ground, I look toward the trees and smile. I take a deep breath of the forest around me and for the first time in days the air smells fresh and clean. I look around, trying to figure out which way to go but ultimately choose to not overthink it and just start moving. I walk past the gun which is lying in the grass and don’t even consider picking it up. I don’t need it anymore.

I set a good pace, even with my limp. I feel at peace in my situation which helps me become more single-minded in my goal. I try not to dwell on the fact that I haven’t covered much distance these last two days, but I also don’t understand why I need to walk as far as I am. When we drove to the cabin it was a ways out in the woods, but it still had a driveway and was off a main road. I wish I had been able to walk out the front door and down the road instead of having to take that tunnel but I don’t let myself get sucked into anxious thoughts, instead I try to coax my mind to other, nicer things.

Eventually, they wander to Luke. I wonder how he is, if his fever broke or if he has gotten worse. Don’t do that, don’t think that. I’ll find my way back to him and take him home. I can see it all. I can visualize myself getting back to the cabin, wrapping him in my arms and telling him I made it. I can see us getting back to our real life and everything going back to being amazing. We will come out of this stronger, having been tested and ready for anything. Being separated the last few days and left to wonder if I’ll ever even see him again has put my life into perspective. It’s shown me that Luke is the man I want by my side. I’ve spent countless hours thinking about what a beautiful person he is, how steadfast. He is always there for me. I can see now that I want him to take care of me and that it’s okay to let him. I can be a strong human for myself while also leaving room for him to pick me up when I’m down. Loving and needing him doesn’t make me weak. He gives me something to be strong for.

I’m snapped back to real life when I feel myself slipping on some loose rocks, barely catching myself before having another accident. The terrain has gotten steeper and my foot is already slowing me down. I need to pay more attention so I don’t hurt myself again. Hiking up and down these bigger, rocky hills distracts me enough that I’m able to ignore the pain, but as the hours roll by, I’m getting tired both physically and emotionally. I don't want to stop in this spot to rest so I have to keep pushing.

I’m climbing up an almost vertical wall, alternating between taking big steps and grabbing onto anything that seems solid. The endless, sharp pain shooting through my foot forces me to have to use my arms and every bit of upper body strength I have to pull myself up–which frankly isn't very much. By the time I get to the top, my entire body is shaking, and I’m so dehydrated my mouth feels like it’s full of sand.

My heartbeat is pounding in my chest even when I’m not moving, but I tell myself I can’t stop. I won’t let myself take a real break until I either find the road or night comes. If I give in even for a minute, I know the rest of my resolve will fall apart quickly. I need to ignore all my discomfort and keep going. The ground eventually levels out to almost flat which helps me move a little quicker, but my limp is becoming more exaggerated every minute.

I’m startled when a small fox pops out of the trees. I can’t help but stop to watch it walk around. It keeps some space between us, moving around and smelling everything but eventually it stops and looks right up into my eyes. I hold my hand out, trying to let it know I mean it no harm, and it actually begins to creep closer to me. It gets low to the ground the closer it comes, making small yipping sounds until it’s right in front of me. It's so close, I can almost reach out and touch it. This is the best thing that has happened to me since I stepped into these woods. I give the small animal a smile before greeting it with a small, “Hi.” It darts away just as suddenly as it showed up. I’m disappointed, although I’m not sure what I thought was going to happen.

With a sad sigh I take a few steps forward when suddenly, it shoots back out of the trees and runs back over to me. Once again, it looks straight at me before it turns and takes a few steps away. It glances back toward me like it wants to make sure I’m following. I’m not sure what to think of this, but a strong feeling tells me to listen.

I try to keep my energy calm, so I don’t scare the fox away, taking slow steps and making sure to not get too close. It leads me along for quite a while, yipping at me every time I stop but never leaving me. When I get too far behind, it sneaks up close like it’s reminding me to keep moving. I’m starting to feel too exhausted to keep up as I get a bit woozy. My eyes can barely stay open and a migraine has begun pounding right behind them. I stumble having to grab onto a tree beside me to stop from falling over.

“I gotta stop, little guy. I’m sorry.” But when I look up, the fox is gone. I glance around, but don't see it anywhere. “Bye, I guess.” I don’t have the energy to feel sad as I drop my backpack to the ground. I don’t bother to search for a better spot before, against all better sense, I decide I’m going to make a fire. I haven’t risked making one yet, but I don’t care–come what may and all that. I kneel, gathering some little twigs and dried leaves. I know a bit about making fire from watching Luke do it a handful of times. Plus it helps that he has a lighter in his backpack along with some homemade fire starters, which are really just toilet paper rolls stuffed with dryer lint.

The sun is low but hasn’t gone completely down yet, so I take the time to gather up some rocks, arranging them in a circle to house my fire. The lint catches immediately and it grows fast. Quickly, I pile the rest of my small sticks onto the flame and watch it slowly become a full, beautiful fire. I smile, feeling very proud of myself and wishing Luke were here to see it.

I grab my phone out of my pocket, deciding to take a chance and see if it’ll turn on and maybe I could take a picture of this to show him later. This time, when I hold down the button, the screen flashes white as it starts to turn on. My eyes open wide as I jump to my feet in excitement. My home screen comes to life but then goes black, showing the battery is dead. Feeling defeated, I kick my backpack and immediately regret the choice. I hop on my good leg, holding my other foot before finally sitting myself back down on the cold ground. I groan at my own foolishness and shove my stupid, useless phone back into my pocket. It was worth a try. I force myself to move on, not letting myself dwell on feeling like everything is failing.

My stomach growls and I remember it's been a while since I ate anything. I pat my other jacket pocket, feeling for the granola bar that I stashed in there yesterday. The first thing I feel are the bullets and my heart sinks as the image of the green jacket and blood forces its way back into my mind. I pull them out and throw them to the side before shoving my hand back into my pocket. This time when I pull it out, it’s holding my last meal. I unwrap it and take tiny bites, trying to savor each little bit. It does nothing for the pain in my stomach. I can’t remember ever being this hungry before. In desperation, I start pulling everything out of Luke’s backpack, hoping I’ll find some sort of food hidden or forgotten at the bottom. I even go as far as tipping it upside down and letting everything fall out. I rummage through the pile but am unsuccessful. I’m not ready to give up as I unzip every pocket and pull anything and everything out. When I get to the last pocket, I feel something soft but also solid. Before I pull it all the way out, I already know what it is. I pause before opening it; every emotion is surging and cycling through me. I let out a shaky breath and open the box; there sits the perfect ring. My ring, the one I know I’ll wear for the rest of my life. My hands drop into my lap as I sit and stare at the small box which holds the promise of a future.

Chapter Twenty-Four

I take the ring out of the box before slipping it onto my finger, taking some time to admire it. I can see it all–Luke proposing to me, dress shopping with my parents, the wedding, even being married. It’s everything I didn’t know I wanted. I sit, contemplating life, not forcing myself to move on too fast. I let myself sit in my thoughts and emotions.

When the shock eventually wears off, I repack everything I dumped out of the backpack. I don’t take much care of how I organize it, a combination of not caring and the fact that space isn’t as limited as it was a few days ago. One of the last things I grab is Luke’s bear spray. I opt to leave it out, wanting it to be close and easy to grab. “One must always be prepared.” I throw the ring box in last, choosing to leave the ring on as a reminder of what I have to live for but also, morbidly, in case I die out here. If my body is found, I want my family and Luke to know I would’ve said yes.

The fire is burning steadily now, giving off a lovely amount of warmth. I scoot as close as I can, holding my frozen fingers over the flame. As I’m finally feeling a little relaxed, a quiet but clear crack echoes through the trees. I already know what I’ll see when I look up, which takes some of the fear out of it. The tall being is standing next to a tree, as clear as day. Whether it’s my imagination or reality, it’s not bothering to hide itself. It wants me to see it, so I look at it dead in the eyes, both of us expressionless, neither of us moving or breaking the stare. I’m having a hard time caring about it.

A vulnerable but true conclusion takes root in my mind. There’s nothing to be done. Being scared, running or fighting–none of it would save me. None of it would make any difference. If they want me, they’ll take me. The only thing left to wonder is, why haven’t they? It’s standing so scarily still it almost begins to blend in with the nature around it.

“Come with me,” it says in a dull, monotone voice. Its body is twitching ever so slightly as it tilts its head side to side like it’s trying to figure me out. I might not be feeling much fear anymore, but I still have enough sense that I slowly reach into my pocket and grab hold of the bear spray. I hold it between my legs, hoping the creature can’t see it. I don’t look away from it and it doesn’t come any closer. I can hear the voice coming out, but its mouth isn’t moving. “Help me. Come. I need help.” Still, neither of us makes a move. We are in a terrifying standoff which I know I should break. I should get up and move away but I don’t have the energy. I’m willing to test how far this can go.

I muster enough bravery to say something back, “I’m not going to move. I’m not leaving.” I keep eye contact, trying not to look nervous but it doesn’t react. Instead, it takes one step closer to me. My heart skips a beat, and I instinctively lean forward, grabbing one of the hot rocks from the edge of the fire pit. It scalds my palm, but I don’t let go. Instead, I fling it at the creature and scream, “I said I’m not leaving!” Instead of looking to see if I hit it, I look down at my palm, the skin bright red and angry. When I look back up, the creature is gone. I stand up and spin around, trying to spot where it went but the forest has gone quiet and empty. It’s sudden, silent disappearance feels worse than having it stand over me. The silence breaks way to something crashing through the trees. Not something… it. The noise sounds like it’s coming from everywhere. I continue to spin, trying to keep up with the sound, trying to make sure I can see where it’s coming. Right as I’m feeling dizzy enough to fall over, it all stops. Silence.

Then softly, right in front of me I hear, “Hanna?” I know the voice. The trees are spinning and shifting as my equilibrium is desperately attempting to settle. I walk toward his voice as I see a shadow coming out of the trees. I know it can’t be true. It can’t be real but all I can think is, ‘He’s here’. I can practically feel his arms around me. Just a few feet away. “Hanna. Come with me.” Those familiar words stop me in my tracks as I look toward his voice, leaning forward to concentrate my gaze. He’s standing just out of the light, but right away I can tell he’s too tall. I scan down his body; his arms are longer than they should be. As it steps out of the shadows, its face is almost like Luke’s, but something’s wrong. What strikes me the most are its eyes. They’re looking at me with hunger and hate, seeming to glow with it. This isn’t real. No, this isn’t Luke, as much as I want it to be. I stumble backwards, shaking my head. Anger, frustration, confusion all jumbled up in my nervous system.

“Get the fuck away! I’m not going with you!” In real time I see the switch, its eyes change colors, turning yellow like an animal at night. Its head and shoulders start twitching like it can’t control them as drool leaks down the corners of its mouth–the almost Luke’s mouth.