I woke up in a cold sweat last night, like I do many nights, with a screaming pain in my left shoulder. The monumental ache of both muscle and memory is one I’m familiar with, but in 7 years it hasn’t dulled any.
After sitting with myself for a few moments, catching my breath and my thoughts, I rose from my bed and shuffled to my bathroom to run my face under cold water in an attempt to wash away the events that had played out yet again in my subconscious. It was 3:12 in the morning. Don’t give any significance to that time, other than how inconvenient it is to be awake then on a Tuesday. I never wake up at exactly the same time. Just early. Or late. Depends on how you look at it I suppose. After standing with my head underneath the sink for a minute or two, I lifted my eyes to the mirror and let the water seep down my face and neck, carelessly soaking my shorts and dripping onto the cracked tile floor. I looked like shit. I’m familiar with that too.
This story is one I never thought I would share with anyone other than God, but with recent events taken into perspective, I’m beginning to believe what I thought was the end of things may have in fact been nothing but a break between seasons of a cosmic version of American Horror Story. If that’s the case, I need people to know what is actually lurking out there for them in the desert. Staring at their cars as they drive aimlessly down the many long highways of the American Southwest. Whatever scary stories you think you know pale in the face of the crippling reality. Or maybe, you know what’s out there. Maybe you have chosen to hide it from the world. If that’s the case, I’m sorry but I’m fucking your plan up.
2017 isn’t a year that stands out in the minds of most. Despite the fact the United States was still reeling from the death of our beloved gorilla the year before, and a certain actor from the apprentice was announcing his candidacy for President, things were continuing as normal. This was true for my friends and I as well. It was my senior year, in the shitty little Arizona town I was born in. The 30-ish people graduating alongside me were as eager as I was to move on with our lives just like every other small-town 18 year old in history.
“Are you taking this piece of shit with you to Boston?” Mike coughed from my passenger seat as he all but spat the smoke out of his lungs and onto my faux leather interior. As he continued to cough, he attempted to pass his bowl full of cheap weed and gas station pipe tobacco across my center console. I reached over and took it from his gracelessly waving hand. “I haven’t decided yet,” I answered. “It’s not like I can afford to buy a new car there, but god knows if this will make the drive.” I held the Bic lighter to the bowl and took a long pull. As I held the smoke in my lungs, I read Mike’s lighter. It said ‘Take me with you!’ with an artist’s rendering of a small character being abducted by a UFO. “You like it?” he asked between wheezes. “Special edition.” I let the smoke out of my nose before responding, “It’s from the gas station.” “Hey it was a Love’s, that’s like the ritz of gas stations. As for your Camry, it’s as old as you are man, the only difference is this thing has touched more girls.” I rolled my eyes at his comment while he continued. “I’m sure Boston University will be just as much of an adventure for it as it will be for you.”
I would love to say there weren’t words to describe Mike. But there were, including “obnoxious” “loud” “stupid” “lazy” “lame” etc. There are also the words “best friend.” I had known Mike quite literally my entire life. Our mothers had met in some pregnancy group and had instantly latched onto each other. We had been born a week apart in 1999, Mike first, and as such our parents had done just about everything in their power to force us into false sibling-hood. Luckily, it worked out and we took to each other pretty quickly. While we had our similarities, Mike and I were also very different too however. I was a relatively reserved, introverted type. I liked to play solo video games, read, watch old movies. If there were enough kids in our grade to shun me I’m sure they would have, but friends were in short supply for everyone so I never had to sit alone at lunch.
Mike was fragile. Not fragile like a pane of glass, or a flower. Fragile like a landmine. After his parents had both been killed in a car accident when we were in 7th grade, he had moved in with my family and done everything he could to send my parents into cardiac arrest. He threw parties. He snuck girls in and out of the house with such efficiency it was like he had a dedicated secret tunnel for them. (I’m still not convinced that he didn’t). One time he stole the principal’s 2012 mustang for the sole purpose of making sure that Mr. Jessup knew he could do it. He didn’t even take it anywhere, he just did donuts in the faculty parking lot until the school resource officer showed up. Somehow he got off with only a 2 week suspension and some community service. I think, like most people, that they let him off out of pity for being an orphan but Mike is also one of the smoothest talkers I’ve ever met. If he was really trying, he could convince you to give him the shoes off your feet and pay him for the trouble of doing so.
Additionally, our looks were in stark contrast. I was a skinny kid with light brown hair falling just above my shoulders with eyes to match. The color. Not the length. I dressed economically. Everything I had came from Walmart and looked like it. I never had any real desire to standout, and didn’t see the point of paying for a brand. I drove a 2000 Toyota Camry I had gotten cheap. Pretty much everything about me could be summed up with the word, “average.” Mike had one brown eye and one blue. He called them “exotic”, I called them “defective”. His hair was a well maintained, over-gel’d dirty blonde he combed almost subconsciously every few minutes. In keeping with the stereotype, he was generally found wearing a Levi’s denim jacket or something made out of a dead cow in the winter and a short-sleeve too-tight baseball shirt in the summer. His jeans were just tight enough to separate him from those who didn’t care about that sort of thing, and the theater department. He was fit, but not overly so. Thin, but with some muscle. Kind of like a wrestler, if he had ever actually done a sport or any extracurriculars that didn’t involve parties and . There were a lot of good reasons I was going to Boston University for Computer Science, and mike was going to stay in town. Luckily, he had scored a position as an EMT somehow and had spent the last semester of High School taking the course on Tuesday and Thursday nights.
We were sitting in my crappy car in the grim and abandoned parking lot behind the old hospital. It was slated for demolition about…. 3 decades ago, but for some reason or another it was still standing like a tattered scarecrow by the entrance to town, warning all who came in what would happen to them if they too got stuck here. Or as a place for kids to smoke and drink discreetly. “I’m telling you man you should take it. Fuck it I’ll come with you and fly back, we can make a road trip out of it,” Mike said, reclining his sit a bit and donning his Ray Bans to counteract the new sunlight hitting his face. “You just want to hook up with chicks in every state between here and New England,” I answered, smacking him in the stomach with the back of my hand with just enough force to make him jump a little. “Hey, we can do both,” he smiled. He sighed slightly and asked after a moment, “You coming with me to the lake tonight? We’re gonna have a fire, camp out. I have a spare tent for you.” “Who else is going?” “Probably Sean and Aiden, maybe Emma,” he snuck a look at me out of the corner of his eye and grinned slightly. “Cherry said she wanted to go.” I winced and looked out the window quickly, hoping to avoid Mike’s grin widening. Her name was actually Sherry, but people had been calling her Cherry since before we could remember, even the adults. “Maybe. I’ll have to see how I feel after work. Which I just realized I need to get to,” I answered after I heard Mike fumbling with the lighter again and knew he couldn’t smoke and smile simultaneously. As I turned back towards him I realized I didn’t know shit. “Oh, come on man!” I yelled exacerbated as I put the car in drive. I peeled out of the parking lot, leaving two black streaks of the pavement and the lingering sound of Mike’s cough-laughter.
After dropping Mike at home to do whatever Mike does, I drove the 5 miles to my job; I worked at the movie theater. I always loved movies, so even though the pay was terrible and the snacks were off brand, I was thrilled when my application was approved the previous fall. I was one of the three people ever on shift at a time, since we legitimately only had the one viewing room. So, one person did snacks, one person did tickets, and one would work the projector. I greatly preferred the projector billet. Today, we were showing a special movie at 4; The Godfather 2. One of my favorites, and more importantly, it was pretty much as long as my entire shift. Being paid to sit there and watch one of the greatest cinematic masterpieces of all time on a Friday afternoon was one of the few pleasures this town provided me, and I never took it for granted. After setting up the the projector and taking the five finger discount on my own snacks from Tom at the register, I settled into my crappy rolling chair at 3:45 and I settled in for almost 4 hours of Pacino and De Niro.
I was sweeping up popcorn from under the seats when I heard someone call my name. “Hey! Hey Steve!” I looked up to see Mike’s friends Sean Nichols and Aiden Movescamp walking down from the entrance to me. “Mike said you were here, he’s in the truck we’re on our way to the lake. It’s gonna be sick, I had my brother pick us up a few bottles of vodka and some mixers from the gas station and Mike said he got some good weed.” Sean was a short, fat white kid with very few reasons to like him. I knew Mike only took him anywhere because Seans older brother was 23 and was usually too fucked up himself to have any qualms with buying booze for underage kids, and because Sean would drive him places if I wasn’t around. His hair hung in greasy strands over his eyes and he always smelled like he had spent most of his day shoveling corn chips in his face, and I truly didn’t like being near him but I chose to speak tactfully so as not to deny my friend his liquor supplier.
“I’m on shift for another few minutes, I get off at 8:15. Maybe I’ll meet you guys there,” I said deadpan. “Emma and Cherry will be there,” Aiden butted in. “Cherry was asking for you.” I tried not to let any internal response to that show in my face but Sean picked up on it immediately. “Oh you got the hots for her huh!” He laughed his obnoxious laugh while Aiden gave me a look that said “sorry dude, I forgot the guy driving me is a massive tool.”
Aiden had moved here when we were sophomores and he was a senior. He was originally from New Mexico, the Navajo reservation near Albuquerque. I think. I’m not entirely sure the details of it but he had been staying with his aunt and uncle here for a reason he never talked about ever since. In fact, he never really mentioned anything about before we met him. He was a good kid, much more enjoyable to be around than Sean but I didn’t know him as well as Mike did. Most of our interactions were when I bought weed from him, which is where I assume Mike got his “good stuff” for tonight.
Sean stopped laughing when he realized he was performing a solo, and repeated the question of the day. “Come on Stevo, are you gonna be there? I have enough firewood to burn down the state.” I waited a second, actively keeping my eyes from rolling, then sighed. “Yeah. Yeah I’ll drive up when I’m done here.” “Sweet! Hey we’ll see you there” He awkwardly smacked my shoulder then he turned to leave. I dumped the loose popcorn in the trash can and made my way to the front to switch out with the new projector operator, and then made my way out to my car. Starting up the 4 cylinder beast, I called Mike. “Hey man, I’m heading towards you guys can you leave your headlights on so I can find where y’all are at?” there were some noises in the background and I could hear Sean yelling as Mike answered me. “The fires already roaring man you can’t miss it. It’s huge!” “’I’ll be there in 20,” I told him. “Sounds good brother man, see you then.” Before I had the chance to say a goodbye he had already hung up the phone.
A half hour later my car creeped to a halt next to Sean’s 1990-something chevy pick-up. Mike was telling the truth this may have been the biggest fire he had ever made. The flames were doing their very best to kiss the stars above, and danced close to 5 feet over Mikes already impressive frame. “Steve!” Mike slur-screamed as I stepped one knock-off sneakered foot out of my car. “We saved you some… what is this shit.” He was drunkenly stumbling around with his arm wrapped around Emma. The arm draped over her also clearly intoxicated neck held a plastic bottle half full of a clear liquid. “McCormick!” He finished, hiccuping. “Phenomenal,” I said flatly. “Your brother couldn’t get us vodka that cost more then $8 Sean?” I asked sharply. “Hey man, you don’t need to drink the free booze!” Sean crossed his arms and I could have sworn I saw him pouting, before he returned to doing some strange dance around the fire. Clearly I was the only sober one here.
I looked up at the 4 people I had already seen and realized there were in fact, 5. Cherry was sitting on the other side of the fire. Her blonde hair was in a messy bun, her cheeks slightly flushed from any combination of the bonfire and the liquor. When my eyes met hers, I saw a blue so deep I thought I may drown in it. So to avoid a horrifying drowning death, I immediately averted my eyes and instead looked at another person. “What’s up Aiden.” He made a mock symbol of “HOW” and popped open the cooler. “What do you want to wash that cheap shit down with, white man?” I laughed nervously. “What are my options?” “Well we have the luxury option; Coke. Or business class; Diet Coke.” He looked up at me. “Your shoes say business class,” he declared while tossing me a Diet Coke from his still bent over position. I fumbled the vodka in my hands and managed to barely catch the can of artificial sugar. “You’re too kind, seriously.” I made prayer hands and did a small facetious bow of gratitude. I cracked open my can as Sean started trying to connect his phone to a speaker.
“What the fuck man this things a piece of shit!” He exclaimed in frustration. I took a long, hard pull from the cheap bottle of vodka-adjacent liquid, felt the subsequent painful burn that comes with liquor that costs less than a deck of cards and quickly began chugging my Diet Coke to dilute the acid in my throat. Coughing slightly, I shook my head and gestured to Sean for the speaker. “Let me try,” I said with a rasp. “No way man,” Sean sneered at me. “You’re just going to play some of that lame ass music from the 70’s.” “Better than you’re dubstep crap” “Skrillex is still good!” “He was never good.” “LADIES!” Mike interjected. “I’ll play music. Sean, if you disrespect classic rock again, I’ll cut your brakes. Steve, you loved Skrillex. When we were 12.” Mike let go of Emma, who had now wrapped herself around him as well, and walk-dragged himself towards where Sean was slowly melting into the sand. Taking the pill-shaped speaker, he somehow connected almost instantly and began playing a song by Greta Van Fleet, a new band we had both taken to. While Mike and I had our differences, one thing we shared was our taste in music. We did not share it with Sean thankfully, who stood in a huff and alerted the group he needed to “drain the hose.” “I’ll alert the media,” I muttered as he walked off towards some small bushes.
Mike and Emma had sat/fallen down and promptly begun kissing. With Sean leaving, I became aware of a new singularity. Cherry was sitting alone. I walked around Aiden, who was sitting well postured on the cooler and gazing silently into the blaze; he was only 2 years older than me at 19 but sometimes I could swear he was ancient. When I reached Cherry I sat down slowly at a respectful distance, and placed the vodka in the sand between us.
“Hell of a fire,” I said hesitantly after a moment. “It’s pretty big. Kind of scary, but I like it,” she said back. “Good thing we have the lake right there,” I smiled nervously and glanced over at her. She was looking intently into the fire, but still answered “How are you gonna pick up a lake Steve?” I blushed a little but she looked over at me and smiled back. “I’m glad you came.” Her teeth were perfectly straight, and brighter even than the roaring flames in front of us.
Cherry had been in Mike and I’s grade our whole lives, and while we had been friendly with her, we hadn’t really gotten to know her. We shared a few classes throughout the years, and while she had never been unattractive, she had never been someone I had considered ‘stand-out’ until the first day of senior year. As I parked my car I had seen her step out of the passenger side of Emma’s and my jaw dropped so fast it would have ricocheted if it weren’t attached. Her hair was blonde, but not bleached and pulled back into a high, Lola bunny-esque ponytail, and her sea-blue eyes reflected the sun across the crowded parking lot.
She was thin, but not overly so, and despite the blaring Arizona summer we had jut finished, her skin was as fair as ever. For 6 months I had been waiting for the right opportunity to make a move. I told myself it was patience but in reality of course it was fear. She was best friends with Emma, so when Mike had mentioned he was going to try and woo her, I encouraged him to go for it in the hopes I would end up in the very situation I currently sat in.
Tonight she looked no less lovely, in jean shorts and a loose fitting tank top over what would look like a modest two piece bathing suit, if I had been looking. She smelled sweet, but not overly so. Like vanilla ice cream and sunscreen that had been wasted without a sun. I realized I had been sitting in silence mulling this all over and hadn’t responded to her. “Yeah,” I blurted out. “Me too. I mean, I’m glad you did too. And that I did.” Fuck. She giggled a little and I hoped that was a sign I wasn’t in a complete flat spin. Mike and Emma had come up for air but were still being obnoxious cutesy across the fire, which was slowly starting to shrink. I said nothing but I was grateful of that.
“What are you doing next year?” I asked, more deliberately than the last time I had spoken. “Oh, I’m going to UCLA!” She said with more than a hint of excitement. “I love to draw and, I guess they like what I’ve done. I’m hoping to maybe take it into some sort of graphic design, or maybe illustrations for children’s books or something I don’t know. I just love it.” She stopped talking as abruptly as I had earlier. “Sorry not to gush about it,” she said sheepishly. “No! That’s super cool. I’ve never been a great artist but I’ve always thought it was super… cool,” I was choking. “Maybe you can show me some of your work sometime?” I asked. For me, talking to girls always felt like trying to solve a Rubik’s cube that was fighting back. Mike had tried to teach me in the past but it usually devolved into him treating it like a theoretical dogfight of passion and me tuning him out.
“Well, I actually brought my sketchbook tonight, if you really want to see,” she started rustling around in her bag, a large blue purse with turquoise embossed in it in a beautiful pattern. I recognized Aiden’s craftsmanship immediately, she must have bought it from his store on Main Street. After a moment she removed a leather bound stack of paper and removed the long chord keeping it closed. I took my opportunity and inched closer to her so I could see in the firelight. I was blown away. The first page had an ornate chapel, complete with stained glass windows and bell tower glinting in a setting sun. While it was just pencil and paper, I could have mistaken it for a photograph if I wasn’t already aware. “Holy shit,” I whispered. “What? Do you not like it?” she asked with a note of concern in her voice. She pulled the book away slightly, and I wondered how what I had said could be taken negatively. Nonetheless I explained, “No I love it! This is amazing!” She relaxed a little and brought the papers back towards me. “Oh, sorry. Thank you. I don’t know I can be a little… defensive about it sometimes,” she stated. “Even though you managed to get into UCLA with these?” I asked. It came out harsher than I meant it but she laughed a little and said “Yeah. Still. Anyways, do you want to see more?”
“Jesus that was a record breaking piss,” Sean exclaimed as he reappeared into our briefly pleasant lives. “Hey. Stevo. You took my seat.” I bit my tongue for a moment, then said “Sorry man, Cherry was just showing me her drawings.” I met his gaze, and he held it for a moment. It was long enough that I wondered if he was going to contest the new seating arrangement, but eventually he just said “Alright, well Im gonna spark up. Anyone else want in?” Mike looked up at Sean from Emma who was now resting her head on his shoulder.
“Are you offering the class MY weed Nichols?” Sean shrugged. “You said you brought some.” Mike made a tsk sound and with his off hand reached into his jacket pocket, retrieving our shared bowl and a ziplock of grass. Sean gestured for it, but Mike threw it to Aiden who caught it, and began packing the group their smokey treat. Cherry leaned towards me a little. “Ive never smoked before,” she whispered. “Well, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I whispered back. “Okay…” She trailed off for a second. “Well, I will if you do,” she finished.
Aiden lit the bowl and pulled the crime into his chest, holding it there as he passed it to Mike and the now awake but not so steady Emma. Mike took a hit, but as Emma reached for it he expertly moved the bowl around her and gave it to Sean and gave me a look that said ‘don’t give her any more of anything.’ Sean tried to take a pull, and then tried to contain his coughing fit. I really enjoyed how many of his jokes wrote themselves. Cherry had taken the bowl from Sean and was looking to me, discreetly gesturing for guidance on how to do it. “Want me to show you?” I asked. She nodded, and passed the glass pipe to me. I held the lighter to the bowl and inhaled briefly as the crackling of the flower inside grew brighter. I let the smoke out and passed it back to her and she attempted to mimic me. To her credit, she didn’t cough nearly as much as Sean before passing it back to me and shaking her head. “Not sure that’s for me,” she told me as I took it back and returned it to my mouth for a longer drag.
We continued this rotation until it was gone. I was feeling it, but my head was still mostly clear. I offered the vodka to Cherry instead, who took it and drank an impressive swallow before taking my Diet Coke and chasing it until there was no soda left. We were all sufficiently intoxicated for the night, and I decided to sit back and enjoy what was remaining of the fire while the rest of the group talked.
“Bullshit Aiden there’s no way you have a story scarier than The Blair Witch Project. That shit was filmed live!” Sean exclaimed from his new seat, a much lonelier douchebag shaped sand crater between Mike and Aiden. “You know that wasn’t real right?” Mike said while giving Emma a bottle of water. “What do you mean? Of course it’s real.” Sean denied. “Well then mine is true too,” Aiden stated. “Alright man, let’s hear it,” Sean snorted. Aiden paused, then began his tale.
“My people, we have a rule. That you cannot whistle at night. It draws things too you from another layer of the world. Things that don’t belong among man.” He gestured to me for the remaining vodka and I tossed it to him. He drank the rest in one gulp and wiped his mouth without chasing it. “They say these are the spirits of those from before. Before the world, before us, before everything. One night, long ago. My great-great grandfather was out with his hunting party. There were only five of them, hunting what they said must a mountain lion through the foothills that had killed a family in his camp. It had been brutal. A mother and her infant son. They said it must be a mountain lion, because of how deep the scratches were in their skulls.”
“The father had gone with them, and it was clear he had no feeling in him but a lust for vengeance on the creature that had robbed his family of its future. My ancestors, they knew the stories. They knew these legends. But they could not let the lion roam free. There were many families in that camp, we were growing. Armed with bows and clubs, they braved the night, they chose to face the beast that had acquired a taste for man in his own element.” “I’m not super scared of cats dude,” Mike chuckled a little, but Aiden held up his left hand. No one could say he wasn’t dramatic enough.
“They had been in the dark for hours. It was late. They had found nothing. Until one man asked if perhaps the reason they could not find anything was because something had found them, and was remaining just out of reach. My grandfather stilled himself, and listened to the breeze. To the sand being blown by it. To the silence enclosing in around the soft, whistled tune being carried by an unseen source to his far left.”
I could see the goosebumps on Cherry’s arm from where I sat, and she looked like she may even be tearing up a bit. I was both astounded that such a contrived story could affect her as much as it did, and very aware that this was an excellent opportunity to scooch closer to her, which I did. Our arms were touching now, and she didn’t pull away. Looking around however, I noticed Aiden now seemed to have the undivided attention of the entire group.
“My grandfather did what any good warrior would do and found all of his men. Or he tried to; one was missing. The father of the slain family. It was hard to search in the inky blackness of midnight, but they looked for him anyways while the whistling tune grew louder to match their increasing panic. They knew they were not the only thing hunting in these hills, and it was only a matter of time until they became the prey. After minutes of frantic searching and calling out, they had all made their way down into a small ravine when the whistling suddenly ceased. When my grandfather looked up, he could see the dark outline of his missing warrior silhouetted against the sky.”
“Alright, alright!” Sean yelled as he stood. “This story started out as bullshit and its heading for bullshit. I’m breaking out the tents.” He started making his way back towards his truck to retrieve our shelter for the night while the rest of us remained silent. Mike tossed another log onto the dying fire in a clear effort to brighten up our current environment. After a moment, Aiden asked “Would you like me to continue?” We all looked at each other, and I looked at Cherry last. She looked terrified, but surprised us all by nodding. “Yes, how does it end Aiden?” She asked softly, leaning into my arm just a bit. Aiden took a deep breath, looked at me, and then continued his story against the background noise of Sean fighting with the canvas bags in the bed of his vehicle.
“The hunting party didn’t move immediately. They could tell that while this was the body of their missing member, something wasn’t right. His profile was obscured like everything else in sight by darkness, but as they looked, they could see his proportions were slightly off. His arms, just too long with the tips of his fingers extending to the bend in his knees. His neck seemed to be stretched thinner than it should have been, and while the wind was blowing the hair of every other brave towards home, his stayed still as the boulders that surrounded them. My ancestor knew that whatever was making its home in this vessel, it was no longer their fellow hunter. When he raised his club however, the figure leaped forth into the darkness ravine.
While my ancestor couldn’t see what was happening, he could hear the screaming and feel the sandy ground becoming wet with blood. He called out for his comrades, and swung his club towards the sound of death but connected with nothing but the walls of the short mountain. Finally, with great shame he began running. Running home to his camp, where he knew other warriors slept. He needed to warn them all, and prepare them for what would be returning in a familiar skin that night. He ran for hours, until the light of fires not unlike this one came into sight and he began to scream for help.
Men came running out of their homes in confusion, grabbing weapons for a yet unknown enemy but bracing for it nonetheless. My great-great grandfather broke into the firelight in exhaustion and collapsed, trying to say the words that pained him to his core; that the father was no longer an inhabitant of the body he was born to. Of course, the men did not believe him. When his brother arrived a few minutes later, clean and seeming concerned, more confusion arose. My ancestor didn’t wait for the rest of the warriors to find the answers they were looking for. He knew what that thing had done to his wife, and their child, corrupting the father’s once loving hands into inhuman instruments of suffering. He had seen the cosmic strength within this being. So as soon as he saw the dead skin that had once been his friend, he rushed it with a mighty cry and brought his club down on its head.
It was only when the club shattered, and the fires all simultaneously extinguished that the other men realized that they had hesitated too long. A low, gravelly vibration echoed through the hole in this body that was once a mouth as if a million voices were humming at once, and a haunting single note whistle emerged in harmony with it. My great-great grandfather swung his fist, but it once again missed it’s mark and the sounds of anguish rose around him again. All he could think about was how, when he was close enough to see, his brothers face had been wrong. From a distance, you may not notice. But up close. Up close he could see how much it looked like someone had tried to copy it out of clay.”
Cherry was actually shaking at this point, and even Emma seemed to have involuntarily sobered up in fear. Mike looked unbothered on the surface, but after I looked at him for several seconds, I realized he wasn’t blinking. Even I had to admit the story was getting to me.
“My ancestor did what he had done before. He ran. He ran in shame and continued until morning. He did not know if anyone had survived, although he believed he could guess. He just ran until the soft rays of morning sun licked at his face and he felt he could finally rest. He had not been followed. He was truly, entirely alone. The creature never followed, for one reason or another. Perhaps it knew the true pain would be living with the shame of running. Some time later he was rescued by the American cavalry, half starved and dying of thirst.”
The echo of Aiden’s story lingered in the smoke circling above us. We were all disturbed, and sat in silence while watching the fire slowly shrink. Suddenly I heard a low whistle from behind me. I whipped around to see a figure just out of reach of the dwindling firelight as I heard Aiden stand abruptly. I heard a clang from my left and knew Mike had opened his knife. Cherry whispered “Oh my god,” as a tear slipped free from the ocean of her left eye. I stood too, but did nothing beyond that. That one action had exhausted any bravery I had. The figure began moving towards us, the whistle growing louder. I remained where I stood, not due to any heroism but out of crippling shock. As the figure picked up speed I heard Aiden beginning to say something in another language and Mike yell something along the lines of giving this figure a third hole. Just as the shadow breached the wall of light, I faltered and took a step back, touching the fire slightly with my heel and crying out in surprise from both the pain and the revelation of the whistler.
Sean collapsed in a laughing fit on the ground. “You fucks actually bought it!” he cackled. He was holding his ample, shaking stomach as he continued to laugh on his knees in the sand. “Sean you FUCK why would you do that?!” Mike screamed. Emma and Cherry had crawled to each other and were locked in a tight embrace. “Fuck you Sean!” Cherry sobbed. Sean slowly began to stop laughing, but was still catching his breath. “Oh come on, guys it was a joke! You were all just so caught up in this story,” he managed to huff out, still smiling slightly as he did. Cherry stood and pulled Emma up with her and they stormed towards where the tents had been laid out by the cars. “Cherry- hey I’m sorry!” Sean shouted after them to no affect. “You’re an ass, dude,” I stated before turning back towards the vehicles to set up my own tent. As I walked past Aiden, I saw a look in his eyes I had never seen in them before. One of profound rage, and, perhaps even a glimmer of fear.
We all set up our tents in the nick of time. By the time I had attached the last pole, the fire was nothing but smoldering coals. I climbed through the door of my temporary shelter and as I lay there, the story Aiden had just shared echoed in my head. Looking up through the mesh of the top at the clear starry sky above, the dim crescent moonlight peering in. Thinking of the sweet scent of Cherry’s perfume instead, and probably with the assistance of the cheap liquor, I drifted off to sleep.
The low whistle woke me some time later. It was still dark, so it couldn’t have been long, and I was still feeling the effects of the booze and the grass. I couldn’t remember immediately why this noise was as disturbing as it was. The nights events were still clouded in the fog of sleep and aided in their obstruction by everything in my bloodstream. It wasn’t until I heard mike yell “Sean I’m gonna fuck you up!” and heard his tent rustle as he rushed angrily to get it open that I remembered Aiden’s story and Sean’s asshole prank. I began clambering out of my tent as well.
As I stuck my head out I saw Mike was already shoving Sean and yelling at him, the wind blowing his usually perfect hair every which way. Clouds had partially obstructed the moonlight, and I began to feel as though I had woken up to a dark and stormy cliche. The girls were climbing out of their tent too. “It wasn’t funny the first time you fucking idiot, grow up. Let us fucking sleep,” Mike was continuing to push a protesting Sean. “Hey dude it wasn’t me this time! I promise!” Sean was no match for Mikes height and strength and he knew it. “Yeah, sure man. Knock it the fuck off.” Mike gave Sean one final shove knocking him to the ground. Sean looked like he might actually be scared. I’ll admit his bearing was better this time. I shook my head disapprovingly and turned to go back to my tent when I saw that Aiden’s tent door was flapping in the gentle breeze as well. But I couldn’t see him anywhere.
“Hey, guys, not to add to the freak factor but has anyone seen Aiden?” I asked carefully. Mike stopped and turned, looking around our campsite. “Maybe he’s just taking a leak,” he offered. “Yeah, I mean Sean I’ll admit your whistle was pretty loud. Probably-“ I cut myself off as I saw Sean’s face. He was quietly crying and looking directly at me. No… not at me. Past me. I was suddenly as sober as the day I was born and turned slowly to see whatever Sean was looking at. I silently prayed it was just Aiden, and as I finally completed my turn I realized with a rushing feeling of relief that it was, a few yards away with his back facing me.
“Jesus dude, come on. Sean I expect that from but what the fuck,” Mike said with annoyance in his voice. Aiden didn’t answer right away, I assumed because he was still mid-piss. But after a minute or so, I began to question my theory and backed up a bit. “Come on Aiden lets go back to bed man, huh?” I asked carefully. He didn’t say a word. I couldn’t make out the details of his clothes, and could only tell he was facing away from us because of his long hair.
Right then my blood froze in place and I felt as though my heart had imploded. His hair. It was perfectly, unnaturally still. I could feel the group collectively realize something was off at the same time, and that was before the inhumanly low whistle came from the figure in front of me. “Fuck this!” Sean cried, and he began doing his best to run back towards his truck. “Aiden?” Mike asked with real fear in his voice. This time, Aiden did react. The outline of his head began to turn.
Im not sure what feeling I got when it continued to turn all the way around 180 degrees, his face still obscured by shadow, but it was almost like I felt I was looking at an optical illusion. When my brain finally caught up and saw the hidden picture, I screamed and began running to my car too. In fact, everyone began running for what we hoped would be our escape. The whistle followed, always sounding like it was the same distance away and never stopped for a breath, but I never dared look back.
Somehow I made it to my car along with Cherry and Emma. Mike had run past Sean and jumped into the drivers seat of the Chevy. Sean had left his keys in it and we started our respective engines simultaneously. Mike didn’t waste any time putting the car in drive and fishtailed out of his spot. Sean dove, rather impressively, into the bed of the moving truck as I spun my tires too, sending my Camry sideways. The girls were screaming in my backseat, and I was having trouble holding it together myself. All my earlier reservations about driving away had vanished.
As I roared through the sand, making an almost impossible turn my headlights illuminated the figure that had chased us. I couldn’t hear a whistle anymore over the red-lined 4 cylinder engine, but I saw Aiden. Or what I had thought was Aiden. He was completely naked, and looked like his skeleton was too big for his body. His bones all looked like they might rip through his now pale skin at any moment, and he had grown in the moments between when I had first seen him when I had gotten out of my tent and now. But what was most disturbing of all was his face. It was a cheap replica, as though whatever had made it wasn’t worried about their craftsmanship.
I could tell it was meant to be Aiden. But it was very clear that whatever was wearing his likeness not only wasn’t human, but never had been. I only saw it for a second. Cherry and Emma were sobbing, hunkering in the back, but it was burned into my mind. Aiden was dead. Or. God. I hoped he was dead, and not being paraded around inside that. And just like his great-great grandfather, we had ran.