The wind whipped through the trees, sending a cascade of leaves rustling and swirling. The sound of wood on wood cracked as the small gusts of wind hit the green canopy above. I held my breath, hoping that my Go-Pro would capture the sound. It would make the intro to my vlog series feel even more authentic.
I had been planning this vlog for weeks. I wanted to capture the beauty of the forest in all its seasons, and I knew that the sound of the wind in the trees would be a key element. I had even chosen a spot with a particularly large canopy as my opening shot when I scouted the location weeks ago.
“Hey everyone, this is Alex. This is the first in a series of videos on primitive living.”
I paused, feeling that my opening was too forced and too enthusiastic, “That sounded a little too try-hard,” I said to myself. “I need to be more natural.”
I took a deep breath and started again. “Hi, I’m Alex, and I’m excited to share my passion for primitive living with you. In this series, I’ll be showing you how to build shelters, make tools, and find food–”
An older woman with sandy blonde hair and a dark blouse with khaki shorts approached me. “Excuse me,” she said. I turned to her, slightly annoyed. I thought I had nailed the first intro to my vlog series, but now I would have to start over.
A woman with a stack of papers in her hand approached me. She looked tired and stressed, with bags under her eyes that suggested she had not been sleeping well. Her face carried a look of both concern and sadness, as if she had an emotional weight, she was dragging along with her.
I could see that she was struggling to keep her composure. Her shoulders were slumped, and her eyes were darting around as if looking for something.
“Excuse me,” she said. “Can you help me?”
I turned off my microphone and GoPro, knowing that my introduction would have to wait. I nodded for the woman to approach me. The stack of papers in her hand fluttered in the wind.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, “but I was wondering if you had by chance seen this man?” She turned one of the papers over to hand it to me.
I took the paper and looked at it. The young man in the photo was about my age, with shaggy brown hair and a warm smile. He was hiking in the woods with a backpack slung over his shoulder. The photo looked like it had been taken recently, and the man looked happy and carefree. But below the photo, in bold letters, were the words: MISSING.
“I’m sorry, but I haven’t seen him,” I replied.
“My Jacob went hiking in these woods a few weeks ago. He had a camera just like that one.”
“How long has he been missing?” I asked curiously. “Nineteen days now,” she said sadly.
“Has anyone found any sort of direction he might have headed?”
“The first two weeks they lots of volunteers combing the woods. But no one found a sign of him, and most of have given up.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I replied as I took one more look at the man on the paper flyer before tucking it into my pocket. “If I see anything I will make sure to tell the police.”
She smiled gratefully and said, “Thank you. Be safe out there.” The missing man’s mother turned and walked over to a few others who looked like they were going for a hike in the woods. I waited for a few moments, then turned my microphone and turned the camera facing me. I had the perfect idea for the intro now.
“Alright, guys, my name is Alex, and this is the first of what I hope to be many in my series about surviving in the wilderness using only primitive technology! And this isn’t for the faint of heart, I just talked to a woman, who told me her son recently went missing in these very woods. So, what I am saying is what I am doing is not for the faint of heart and don’t try this at home!”
After I had finished, I noticed a man in looking at me from the distance. He wore a light camo pants and white shirt, leaned against an older blue truck. His features covered my dirty trucker style hat. We looked at each other for some time before I noticed him walking over to me.
“I saw you talkin’ to that boy’s mama,” he said loudly. His features became clearer as he spoke. I could see the intensity of his brown eyes, the little specks of dirt under them sprinkled across his cheeks. His crooked nose looked as if it had been broken years ago and never set correctly.
“Been missing for almost three weeks, yea?” “Been about that time, I reckon.”
“Do you have any ideas of what might have happened to him?”
“I think he learned a hard truth in those woods,” he replied, spitting up and then placing some more chewing tobacco into his bottom lip. He looked at me for a moment, his eyes lingering on my camera. A small gust of wind blew through us, as if we were in a standoff.
“Hard truth?”
“That he ain’t ever leaving the woods.”
“So, he is still alive you think?” I asked with a puzzled tone. “Why haven’t they found him or any clues then?”
“Because he don’t want to be found,” the man responded curtly.
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It would make sense if you were him,” he responded, wiping his bottom lip after spitting on the ground once more. His statement only left me more confused, as I tried to think of a follow-up question that wouldn’t get a cryptic answer.
“So, is he trying to just get attention or something?”
“If anything, I think the boy is happy that the attention is finally dying down.” Goddammit. He was cryptic again.
“Well okay then,” I replied. “Sun will set in a couple of hours, and I need to get a fire going before then.”
“Keep a close eye of your surroundings out there,” the man said before turning around to walk back over to his truck. As I watched him hop into it, I turned my camera back on and began to venture into the woods. – I listened to the cackle of burning wood as the flames danced below the cast-iron pot, I had brought with me. I kept my hands steady and waited patiently. A little bit of steam was rising from the pot, and I knew it was a great shot for my series. I turned the camera to my face and said,
“Hey everyone, so I am settled in for the night and just making some water potable for my journey tomorrow. It has been a wild first day out here, but I am excited to see what day two brings. So, with that I am going to hit the hay soon and I will see you all in the morning!”
I turned my camera towards the moon, its silvery light casting a soft glow on the forest around me. I settled onto my bed for the night, a simple pallet of boughs and sticks that I had gathered earlier that day. I had layered the boughs thickly, so that they were soft and comfortable, and I had added a few sticks underneath for extra support.
I filmed the bright stars and half-moon for a few seconds, capturing their beauty in the camera’s lens. Then, I powered off the camera and set it aside. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, savoring the moment. I thought about all the footage I had filmed that day, and I knew it would be perfect for my first video. I have to admit, for my first time trying something like this, I was surprisingly good at it.
I closed my eyes and tried to settle myself on my makeshift bed for the night. The sound of crickets chirping, and owls hooting surrounded me, almost lulling me to sleep. Then, I heard it. A twig snapping.
I froze. I didn’t think much of it at first, but then I heard another one. This one was closer. My eyes snapped open, and I sat up in bed, my heart pounding. I looked around my camp site, but nothing was there.
The fire was dwindling down, and the light was becoming dimmer. Another crack came from behind one of the trees.
“Hello?” I called out, my voice with a slight tremble.
There was no answer.
I sat there for a moment, listening. The only sound was the crickets and owls. My nerves began to settle, and I started to lay back down when I heard the sound of something snorting, as if it was struggling to breathe. I stood up and got myself out the sticks and boughs.
The sound was coming behind the trees to the left of me. The sound of crunching leaves as if something was coming towards me. “Hello?” I said it again, but nothing replied.
I pulled my flashlight out of my pack and shone it over to whatever was hiding behind the trees. The light reflected off a single dark eye. I stepped closer and saw jagged horns and brownish-looking fur. The side of its head peeked out from behind the tree, and I realized what had been lurking around me.
A large deer.
I took a breath of relief, but I was slightly confused. The deer are usually afraid of humans, especially in areas where hunting is common. I figured that a deer would want to stay as far away from a potential predator as possible.
“Well, hello there,” I said, wishing I had my camera handy. It was quite the sight at first. It snorted again, as if it was sneezing. I decided to take another step towards it, but I stopped as it turned its head. Something was not quite right. The other side of its face was covered in what looked like a mixture of pus-covered warts and bleeding open sores. The other eye was bulging almost out of its socket. It snorted again, and a green-colored mucus came out of a snout that was crusted over with a similar color.
Me and the beast stared at each other as I paused. It reared its head down pointing its antlers at me.
“Fuck.”
I screamed and dodged out of the way just in time. The creature crashed into a tree, and I took the opportunity to run. I didn’t look back as I sprinted through the woods, my legs started to ache, but that feeling quickly went away as I heard the sound of the deer screaming from my campsite. It’s hooves crushing the leaves and sticks on the ground below.
It was coming for me
I looked back behind me, but there was nothing but darkness. I could hear the faint sound of the animal somewhere, but I couldn’t see it. I just kept running, my lungs struggling in my chest.
Suddenly, I heard a loud boom echo through the woods. I stopped running and listened. There it was again, another boom. It was the sound of a gunshot. I didn’t know who was shooting, nor did I know where the shots were coming from. I could no longer hear the sound of the deer behind me, but I knew that wasn’t the only thing I had to worry about. I realized that I also had no idea how to get back to my campsite.
I tried to focus my eyes and see if they could see any glimpse of the fire I had built. The only idea was trying to retrace my steps and hope that those gunshots had taken down my pursuer, and that they would not turn that same gun on me.
I walked slowly looking on directions hoping I would get lucky to see something that resembled the fire. I took each step as quickly and as quietly as possible. I noticed something strange though. The critters and bugs were quiet. I didn’t hear the sound of crickets, nor the sound of owls anymore. It was almost haunting.
I continued to walk through the dark woods, my footsteps echoing off the trees. The only sound was the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. Suddenly, I heard something break the silence. It sounded like humming, but it was coming from nowhere
I could see.
I stopped and listened. A melody filled my ears, one I couldn’t place. But I knew one thing: it wasn’t an animal. It was a human. I started moving towards the sound, hoping to find another camper, or at least the person who had the gun.
I followed the sound of the humming, hoping to see another campfire, but instead I was greeted by a figure hiding in the shadows. I pointed my flashlight in the direction and saw a shirtless man kneeling with his hands playing in the dirt.
The man was tall and thin, with long, scraggly hair that went down to his shoulders. The hair on the top of his head was thin and balding, almost exposing the crown. His skin was pale and dirty, and his eyes were wide and unfocused. He was still humming a low, monotonous tune.
“Hello?” I asked nervously. The man didn’t respond. He just kept humming and playing in the dirt.
“Hey, are you okay?” I asked again. The man finally looked up at me, but his eyes were vacant. He didn’t seem to recognize me.
I asked the man his name, but he didn’t answer. He just stared at me with those empty eyes. I moved my flashlight to his bare chest and saw something familiar: the warts I had seen earlier, now with open sores oozing from below his neck down to his stomach. I moved the light up to his face and saw that the warts were spreading, now from his neck to the bottom of his chin. But that wasn’t what chilled me to the bone.
It was his eyes. They were no longer vacant. They were filled with a dark and intensity.
He struggled to stand upright, almost wobbling. He coughed up the same green mucus as the deer before him. In a flash, he took one step and then sprinted towards me, lunging at me. We crashed to the ground with a thud. He screamed in agony.
I screamed at the top of my lungs, “Get off me!” He didn’t listen, but instead began ripping at my shirt with his nails, clawing like a wild animal. My eyes widened when I saw the tattoo of the tree on his arm. It was the same tattoo that the missing man had, whose mother had given me a flyer about earlier that day.
“Help!” I cried out as I struggled to try to get the wild man off of me. He continued to try to scratch and claw. I tried to roll, push, and even threw a punch, but it didn’t matter. I was going to die by a diseased hippie who had gotten lost.
A loud gunshot rang out, briefly piercing through the sound of my screams. My ears began to ring, and I felt something warm and wet pour onto my shirt. I looked down and saw that it was blood, coming from a hole in my attacker’s chest. Another shot rang out, and the sound echoed off the trees around me, making my ears ring even more intensely.
“Get up,” a voice said from the darkness. I was still disoriented, but I could make out a dirty and calloused hand reaching out to me. I took it and allowed myself to be pulled to my feet. I looked up and saw that my savior was the man from earlier that day, the one who had given me cryptic answers.
I stood up and brushed myself off to see the man holding a rifle at the body. He spit some more tobacco onto the ground. He lowered the gun after a minute and turned around before he started to walk away from the scene.
“Where the hell are you going?”
“I’ll be right back. You just wait here.”
“Wait here with this corpse with warts and puss? No Thank you.”
“I said I will be right back,” he responded curtly.
“No, fuck that. I am coming with you.”
“It will be just a few minutes. One of has to stay with the body.”
“No, I am calling the police,” I responded frustrated.
“It would take them forever to get out here,” he responded as he packed more tobacco into his lower lip. I stood there shaking from adrenaline and feeling that he could turn the gun at me at any moment. “If you just wait a few minutes, I will take you back to my RV and then we can call the cops.”
I watched him disappear into the tree line, speechless. I glanced at the body lying motionless on the bed of leaves, sticks, and dirt. It had not moved yet, so that was something. I looked down at my bloodstained shirt and saw some scratch marks on my arms.
I spat on the body and muttered, “What the hell is happening here.” I heard a noise approaching, the sound of wheels crunching and struggling through the underbrush. A small light shone on me, and I saw the man on an ATV.
He hopped off and said, “Help me with the body.”
I don’t know why I listened to him. The body was heavy and awkward to move, but I managed to get it onto the ATV. The man took a few minutes to secure the body in place, using ropes to tie it to the back of the vehicle. When he was finished, he climbed back onto the ATV and said, “Ain’t enough room for both of us.”
“So, you are just leaving me here?”
“I ain’t leavin ya, but you are gonna have to hoof it,” he answered pointing into a direction. “If ya keep goin’ straight you will find an open field.”
“Okay?”
“In that open field is my RV and I will be waitin’ there. Cops should show up not too long after that.”
The walk was much longer than the man had made it sound. I could feel the sweat pooling on my forehead and my bloodstained shirt sticking to my back. My mouth was dry, and my tongue felt like sandpaper. I continued to walk forward in the darkness, mindful of each step and hoping for no more surprises.
The trees creaked and swayed in the wind, their branches groaning as they bent and flexed. The wind was cool, but it did little to relieve my sweat-soaked skin. I was exhausted and sweating profusely from hiking late at night. My legs ached and my lungs burned, but I kept going, hoping that the end was near.
Finally, the trees began to thin out. I could see a field in the distance, and my heart leapt. I took a deep breath and pushed on, my pace quickening. Soon, I emerged from the woods and into the field. The cool night air felt refreshing, and I could see the stars twinkling overhead. I had made it and it was a shame I didn’t have my camera.
I saw some dim lights in the distance, and what looked like the shape of a small trailer. I kept pushing forward, but my body was starting to feel limp. My pace slowed, and my vision began to blur. The stars in the distance seemed to glow even brighter.
“Almost there,” I muttered to myself, mustering up more strength. I could see the RV getting closer, and the ATV sitting next to the man’s beat-up truck. The door opened and the man stepped placing a shovel outside the door. He watched as I struggled to make it over to him.
“Took you long enough!” he shouted.
“Well, you didn’t tell me I had to walk 5 damn miles.”
“It’s more like maybe a mile and half,” he replied, looking me over for a moment.
“You alright?”
“My legs are tried.”
“Thought you were an outdoorsman?”
I ignored his comment and he motioned for me to come inside. The RV was filthy, with dirty dishes and clothes piled up everywhere. The smell of stale food and sweat hung in the air. Empty plastic bottles full of the man’s spit were scattered on the floor and countertops. The only light came from a single bare lightbulb in the center of the ceiling. The walls were covered in peeling paint, and the furniture was old and stained. I felt a wave of nausea wash over me as I stepped inside.
The man gestured to a table and said, “Take a seat over there.” He grabbed a can of air freshener from the table and sprayed it around the RV, trying to cover up the awful smell. It didn’t work.
“Sorry, I don’t have much company as you can see,” he said.
“I can’t imagine someone as charming as you lacking friends,” I replied.
The man chuckled. “You thirsty?” he asked.
I nodded. The man made his way over to the cabinets and shuffled around, looking for a glass. I glanced around the RV and noticed the rifle leaning against the door.
“Thanks,” I said. “That hike worked up a thirst.”
The man opened the fridge and pulled out a small jug of water that was covered in dirt. But the water looked clean, and at this point, I didn’t care. I just wanted something to drink.
He twisted off the top of the jug and handed it to me. “I see you found the missing boy,” he said.
I took a sip of the water and looked at him. “What happened to him” I asked.
“He got the sickness that lurks in these woods.”
“Sickness?”
“Yea, first time I’ve ever seen it hit a person.”
“I am confused?”
“Ain’t nothin to be confused about,” he said as he handed me the glass of water and said, “Here you go.” I took a sip and watched him go back to the fridge. He grabbed a can of cheap beer and popped it open. He took a long sip, then gazed at me.
“Actually, a lot to confused about. Where did he get this sickness?”
“He got it from one the animals, I am guessin’ myself”
“The animals?”
“Yep, they come out at night, get covered in them bumps and wounds. Makes them turn aggressive, too.”
“I saw a deer earlier tonight that looked like that,” I replied, taking another sip of water. I had hoped that would moisten my dry mouth, but it did not. The man took a step over to me and sat right across from me. His eyes bore into me, making me feel uneasy.
“Probably the same that I put some lead in,” he replied, while taking another long sip of beer. “Been taking them out for years and before me it was my daddy.”
“So, you some sort of guardian angel of the woods?”
“I reckon somethin’ like that.”
I became more unnerved by everything he was telling me and asked, “So when should the police be here?”
“I haven’t called them yet,” he said as he stood up and walked back over to the cabinets. I could hear him shuffling around, as if he was looking for something. I felt a tension in the RV, and I took another sip of water.
“I can call them,” I said as I reached into my phone. The man stopped shuffling and turned to look at me.
“No,” he said. “I’ll call them.” He turned back to the cabinets and continued to look for something.
I felt a knot of apprehension in my stomach. Something wasn’t right. I didn’t know why, but I had a bad feeling. The man slammed the cabinet door and I looked to see him holding a small pistol in his hand. He walked back over to me and sat back down.
“Gonna need you to put down that phone.”
“Listen, if it’s about shooting the guy,” I said with my voice trembling. “I didn’t see anything, and we can both go our merry way.”
“Ain’t about that.”
“I don’t have any money either.”
“Ain’t about that neither.”
I shouted in a panic, “Then what is this about?!”
The man took a deep breath and took another swig from his beer before tossing the empty can aside onto another pile of trash in his room. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked at me with a cold, calculating expression.
“This is about you,” he said. “You’re sweatin buckets over there.”
I stared at him, my stomach feeling even more sick. “What do you mean?” I asked. “You got it from him,” he replied and placed his tightened grip on his gun. He motioned his eyes to my arms, I looked down in shock to see tiny little bumps forming around the scratch mark.
“I had been lookin’ for that boy, hoping to him before he spread that shit to anyone else.”
“That’s why no one could find his stuff?” I gulped.
The man nodded and said, “I disposed of it, and I’ve been hunting him until tonight.”
“Why didn’t he just leave?”
“I think he was too afraid to die to kill himself but atleast selfless enough to stay away from other people.”
He then pointed the gun at me and said, “I don’t think you have the same stomach as him.”
“To live in the woods and turn into whatever the fuck I saw? I just want to go the hospital.”
“I can’t allow that,” the man responded. He pointed the gun at me and rested his finger on the trigger. I started to shake, and suddenly I began to cough. I felt something begin to creep up my throat. It was thick and green, and it left my mouth, hitting the table below. It was the same green mucus I had seen both the deer and the man expelled earlier. The man jumped up quickly from the table as I he was scared of it.
“It ain’t personal, but I can’t let the sickness leave the woods!”
“I take being shot personally,” I replied as I tried to think of anything. The man lifted his gun and I looked over to air freshener quickly grabbing it and spraying it on his face. He was taken back, and he tried to steady his aim, but I quickly ran out the door.
“You little piece of shit!” he screamed as I stumbled out of the RV and fell to the ground. I heard the sound of crashing and falling coming from inside. I knew I wouldn’t be able to run back to the woods. He would grab his rifle and he seemed like a good shot. I was cooked if I went that route.
I did the only thing I could do with what little I could see. My body felt weak and was working on adrenaline. I lifted myself and quickly grabbed the shovel. I could hear the man also making his way to the door. The sound of his foot hitting the door meant he could see again.
I used the last bit of strength I could muster and swung the shovel at him. My hands tingled as the man’s facial bones collided with the metal of the shovel. It sounded like a crunch as I could see the man’s bloody face look stunned. He still held on to the rifle, but his grip was starting to weaken. I lifted the shovel again and hit him again across the face.
He collapsed, dropping the rifle to the ground. He spat up blood and stared at me with anger. “If you leave, you could spread the sickness,” he said.
I lifted the shovel up again, holding it above my head. It was either him or me at this point. And I of course chose me. I felt the crown of his head crack from the shovel. I watched as he fully collapsed face down on the ground, blood coming from his ears.
I walked over to the truck and could see the keys still in the ignition. It meant I had a way to escape the woods even with the sickness.