A Sound In The Dark Read online

  “Should we be worried?”

  “Fields told them he was going to look into it. If there was an emergency, we’d know.”

  The fire glowed brightly in the darkening sky.

  “Come on over!” Zack hollered to the others. “The fire’s ready.”

  The campers took turns cooking hot dogs and marshmallows in the fire. Will passed around a few bags of chips, and the group sat around the fire to eat.

  “That tastes good,” Steve said. “You know, that wasn’t so bad for my first time hiking.”

  “Let’s see how you feel when you wake up tomorrow,” Dave said. Everyone laughed, including Steve.

  “So, what were the campers you met like?” Zack asked.

  “One of them was named Beth,” Will answered. “That’s all you need to know.”

  Dave shook his head. “Beth’s boyfriend was probably a bodybuilder,” he said.

  “That’s never stopped him before,” Zack replied with a grin. The laugher returned, all tension from hours before long forgotten. Hovering in the sky, the full moon cast a pale light across Drifter’s Folly.

  None of them noticed the figure watching them from the shadows.

  Chapter Five

  10:51 pm

  A quiet wind swept through the trees, causing leaves to cascade down to earth. Drifter’s Folly Memorial Park was perfectly still. Not a trace of life stirred under the light of the full moon. Even the animals were hidden from view, as if they knew the hunt was coming.

  The single tent at the peak of Whispering Reach lay silent under the specter of the pines. A smoldering heap of embers was all that remained of the campfire. The tent’s occupants were sleeping. They wouldn’t remain so much longer.

  A man emerged from the darkness of the forest, wearing pistols and blades holstered underneath his jacket. There was a bow strapped to his back. The man’s face was obscured by a black bandana tied around the lower half of his face, concealing his features. A pair of brown leather gloves covered his hands. The darkness did the rest.

  Most of the park was visible from the apex of the cliff. He studied every inch of Drifter’s Folly. There was nowhere they could hide—any of them. The others beyond Whispering Reach would hear his signal, and they too would run. Running might give them a few extra hours of life at most, but the same end was inevitable for all.

  Black eyes gazed at the tent with hungry intent. The eyes flickered up to the moon. This was where Crowe cut out the animal’s heart. This was where the hunt would begin. He turned and moved slowly toward the tent.

  ***

  Zack was lying motionless in his sleeping bag when he heard the sound. For a moment, he felt Lily’s presence in the tent. Zack looked around, half expecting to see her there.

  She’s dead, he thought finally. She’s never coming back. Nothing could change that.

  He rubbed his eyes and pulled the blankets higher, hoping to find rest. Despite the day’s labors, sleep proved elusive. The others drifted off almost immediately after retiring to the tent. Cole was out like a light. Zack envied them. He listened for the sound again, wondering if it came from an animal. Aside from Dave’s snores, he couldn’t hear a thing. He closed his eyes and sighed.

  He heard it again. Zack sat up. It was difficult to see anything outside the thin lining of the tent. Although the moon was shining brightly, everything was draped in shade. There was no sign of movement. He was about to lie back down when the sound echoed a third time.

  Something was outside the tent.

  “Is someone there?”

  Will stirred at his feet. “What’s going on?” he asked sleepily.

  Zack didn’t answer. A shadow appeared in front of the tent. As the form drew nearer, it took on the shape of a man.

  Zack slid out of the sleeping bag. “Fields, is that you?”

  Other than the sound of what sounded like boots scraping against the rocks somewhere outside the tent, there was no response.

  “Go back to sleep,” Will muttered. “It’s just the wind.” He closed his eyes, probably expecting Zack to do the same thing.

  Zack couldn’t. There were chill bumps on his arms. His hair stood on end. Something was wrong, and he knew it. Once before he experienced the same feeling of foreboding. He was closing down the bakery for the night when an overwhelming desire to call Lily gripped him. Zack ignored the feeling. The next day, he learned that a neighbor found Lily’s body in her garage. She left her car running and let herself drift away.

  He sank to his knees when he heard the news. Whatever it was, God or survivor’s instinct, something had reached out to him, and he ignored the feeling. He wouldn’t ignore it this time.

  “Guys,” he whispered forcefully, “wake up.” He grabbed Cole and shook him.

  “Just let me sleep a few more minutes,” Cole mumbled, trying to pull away. Zack started unzipping the rear of the tent. The shadow expanded in size as the sound grew louder. Now Steve was awake.

  “Stop it,” Will said in a growl. “I told you it was nothing.” He grabbed one of the two-way radios. “I’ll prove it,” he said. “Fields, are you there?”

  There was no answer. Only static.

  Before Zack could respond, a hand pulled down the zipper from outside the tent. Moonlight poured inside the tent, blinding the campers. Will froze.

  “Fields?” Zack asked.

  Underneath the mask of his bandana, the killer grinned. “Not quite.”

  Zack found his footing. His nerves were on fire. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded loudly.

  The shape moved with alarming speed. He seized Zack by the shoulder and held a blade against his throat without cutting him.

  “I’m someone who wants to play a little game,” the killer answered.

  Alarmed, Will climbed to his feet.

  “Don’t come any closer,” the Hunter said harshly, “or I’ll carve his face off.”

  Zack stood rooted to the spot, unable to speak. The killer seemed to stare into his very soul with eyes full of hate. The eyes burned black as coal, and there was no mistaking the evil intent. He was searching for something—a sign of weakness.

  Don’t show fear, a voice said inside Zack’s head.

  His impulse was to shake. Somehow he steeled his nerves and remained motionless. Still holding the knife, the killer turned his attention to the others.

  “What do you want?” Will asked, looking around. Zack could tell what he was thinking. Whoever the intruder was, it was just one man with a knife. There were four of them inside the large tent, minus Zack. If they rushed the attacker they should be able to overwhelm him. He could see Will waiting for an opening. The others remained too sluggish to comprehend what was happening. They were starting to wake up. Cole stood behind him, followed by Steve. Dave was on his knees.

  “You’re asking the wrong question,” the Hunter said. “How much do you want to live?” No one answered. “This is what will happen. You’ll run, and death will come for you. As it comes for everything.”

  “You’re insane,” Will said.

  The killer removed the blade from Zack’s throat and held it inches from his right eye. It took all of Zack’s willpower not to collapse. He bit his tongue and tasted blood.

  “If any of you make it beyond the boundaries of the park, you won’t be pursued. If you can last until first light, you will be spared.”

  The five campers looked at him incredulously. Only one of the men appeared to recognize the sincerity of the threat. When Zack saw the killer’s gaze shift from Will to Steve, he realized something bad was about to happen. Steve was visibly trembling, on the verge of tears. Dave inched backwards toward the rear of the tent.

  “Remember my words,” the killer said. “Wherever you go, wherever you hide, I’ll be watching. All of you.”
He slid the knife back into its holster and turned his back as if to go.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Zack whispered to Will. He gestured toward the rear of the tent.

  Before the others could react, the Hunter turned back around. This time, he was holding a gun.

  He shot Steve through the chest. The roar of the gunshot shattered the stillness of the night, echoing for miles.

  Dave was already sliding under the opening at the rear of the tent when Steve’s body crumpled to the ground. Will and Cole followed mere seconds after as the campers tore out of the tent. Zack tumbled backwards, landing on his backside. The killer shifted the gun in his direction. Zack rolled out the back seconds before the masked man pulled the trigger.

  “Run!” Cole shouted, casting a glance back at him.

  Dave was already out of sight. Zack pushed himself off the ground. The killer was blocking the trail leading back to the lodge. There wasn’t time to think. Zack scrambled after the others in the direction of Dead Man’s Drop.

  Dark clouds passed over the moon, concealing the night in a vast blackness. The narrow path down the cliff was perilous. Zack could hardly see two feet in front of him.

  “Cole?” he shouted as he searched frantically for the others.

  Zack didn’t see the rock jutting out ahead of him until it was too late. He tripped and fell, sliding down the cliff. His pants ripped. He managed to catch himself before rolling off the side of Whispering Reach.

  Dim light peeked out from behind the clouds. There was a small drop onto another ledge below. In the event he was still being pursued, it was unlikely the killer could follow him safely. He listened for the sound of his friends, but they were gone. Zack looked behind him. He couldn’t see Steve’s killer, but didn’t mean the man wasn’t there.

  He had a choice to make. He could crawl back up and run down the side of the cliff exposed, or drop down and risk being separated from the others. Above, Zack thought he heard movement. Moving slowly so as not to fall again, he eased his way down the ledge. Praying he wasn’t making a grievous error, he released his grip and fell until his feet connected with the rocky ledge. Zack followed the path for several minutes. He couldn’t see far enough to be sure, but the rocky hill he was standing on led onto an unfamiliar forest trail.

  Despite the temptation to call out for the others, Zack knew he was on his own for the time being. A cry for help would risk giving away his location. That was a risk he was unwilling to take.

  What do I do now? he thought. The moon reemerged above, illuminating the path forward. Zack reluctantly started down the trail. There was no other way.

  I’m on the wrong side of the lake, he realized. We didn’t come this way earlier. He was lost and alone in Drifter’s Folly. Somewhere out there, the man with the knife waited. Zack glanced up at the curved peak of Whispering Reach before fleeing toward the tentative safety of the forest. There was nothing there.

  ***

  The entrance to the tent was abandoned. Steve was alone. The dying man inched forward. The bullet had passed through his chest just above his heart, shattering bone. It made little difference that his heart had been spared. Without medical care, he would be dead within minutes.

  “Help,” Steve croaked weakly. He clawed his way outside the tent, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. His vision swam, and he battled the urge to close his eyes. The blackness threatened to consume him.

  He spilled out from the tent onto the rocky earth. Steve tried to cry out again, but no sound escaped his lips. Where were the others? It took a while for the crushing realization to set in. They thought he was dead. He’d been left behind.

  He heard a sound in the dark.

  “Guys?” he whispered.

  The figure standing under the trees wasn’t one of his friends. Steve’s face whitened with terror. The killer was waiting for him all along.

  “No,” he tried to protest as the killer grabbed him by his feet, dragging him along the cliff.

  The killer knelt at his side. The man’s black eyes gleamed in the moonlight. He removed the knife he used to threaten Zack. Steve’s heart thundered in panic. Just before the killer buried the blade into his chest, Steve thought he saw something shiny hanging from the man’s neck. His voice didn’t travel past the cliff. No one could hear him screaming.

  ***

  When the killer completed the ritual, he threw the corpse down from the cliff. He waited for the body to hit the water below. The Hunter watched until the dead man vanished into Dire Lake. His gaze shifted to the forest, and he scanned the valley for the others.

  He saw no trace of movement. Perhaps the campers would make it challenging for him after all.

  “It has begun,” he said. He clutched his necklace tightly. The wind roared around him, carrying the echoes of whispers. The first death was meaningless. It served only as a trigger, to get the wheels in motion. The true hunt was just getting started.

  Leaving Whispering Reach behind, the killer retreated to Beggar’s Road. From there he entered a hidden path. The hunting bow and arrows were waiting under the tree where he left them. He delved into a sack and removed a pair of night-vision goggles. The killer switched the goggles on.

  The four men camped on Whispering Reach were only part of the game. There were more campers across the park. Drifter’s Folly was the perfect hunting ground. The others across the valley would have heard the gunshot. Cell phones were of no use. They would try to radio in and find no response, and then they would run or hide. Either way, he would find them.

  He always did.

  Chapter Six

  11:32 pm

  The specter of Dire Lake loomed through the trees. The vast body of water glowed under the moonlight. Three men tore into the forest, shattering the silence of the night. Will felt the others begin to slow behind him. He cast a quick glance in every direction to see if they were being followed. It was impossible to tell.

  “We don’t have time to stop,” he said. “We have to keep going.” The trail leading from Whispering Reach was less than sixty yards behind them.

  Dave shook his head and sank to the ground. The heavy man vomited, a retching sound that disgusted Will. Cole was leaning against a tree, panting. Zack was gone. Will swore. He wished he were still dreaming, lying inside the tent. Instead, he was living a waking nightmare.

  Cole stared in the direction of Dead Man’s Drop, as if waiting for Zack. Sweat trickled down to his glasses. The law student had removed his contact lenses before bed and was now stuck wearing a pair of old reading glasses.

  “He’s not coming,” Will said, unsure if he was referring to Zack or the maniac from the tent.

  He watched as Cole felt around in the pocket of his pants for his cell phone. To Will’s surprise, his friend pulled out the phone. Of all the people in the tent, he was the only one who always kept his phone with him. Will hoped against hope for a signal as Cole turned on the phone.

  “No signal,” Cole muttered bitterly. “Ranger Fields wasn’t kidding.”

  It took Will several moments before realizing he was still clutching the two-way radio in his hand. He pressed the call button, hoping to get a response from Fields.

  “Hello?” Like before, there was only static on the other end. Will switched to another channel and tried again. “Is anyone there?”

  Nothing. His fist tightened around the small device. His jaw clenched in anger. Will wanted to toss the thing into the lake, but thought better of it. He slid the walkie-talkie into his pocket for safekeeping.

  “What are we going to do?” Dave moaned loudly, his palms pressed against the grass.

  Leaves rustled in the woods behind them. Will held a finger to his mouth, motioning for Dave to shut up. The thing in the forest drew nearer. The three men tensed, expecting the worst.

  A deer
stepped into a clearing in front of them. The animal picked at the ground beneath its hooves, oblivious to their presence. The wind shifted in the opposite direction, and the deer looked up at them before bounding away toward the lake.

  Will sighed in relief. He grabbed Dave by the arm and pulled him up.

  “Keep your voices down,” he whispered. “Anyone could be listening.” He looked back at Cole. “We need to move.”

  Cole wiped his glasses with his t-shirt and shook his head. “Not without Zack.”

  “Your friend’s not coming back,” Dave muttered. His eyes were focused not on Cole, but the cliff just beyond the trees. “He’s dead, just like Steve.”

  “We don’t know that,” Cole said. He looked to Will for support.

  “I’m with Dave on this,” Will said reluctantly. “Maybe Zack got away. Maybe he didn’t. We don’t know. Staying here and waiting for someone to come along will only get us killed.” He started forward and motioned for them to follow. “Come on.”

  The others didn’t budge.

  “Where are we going?” Dave asked.

  “To find someplace to hide. He’s just one man. He can’t be everywhere.”

  “We need to get help,” Cole said. “There are other people in the park.”

  “There’s nothing we can do for them,” Will replied. “In case you haven’t noticed, the radio Fields gave us isn’t even working. We need to look out for ourselves first.”

  Dave nodded. The two men walked farther into the forest. Cole scanned the trail for Zack one last time before following. They walked in silence for several minutes, stopping several times and crouching behind trees when anyone heard a noise. Each time they waited for something that never emerged.

  “Do we even know where we’re going?” Dave whispered.

  “We’re close to Shatter Creek Trail,” Will replied.

  It was quickly becoming obvious the other two would be lost without him. They hadn’t spent long in the forest earlier, but Will thought he knew the lay of the land well enough to get around. If they lost their way, it would spell disaster. He suspected the killer knew the ins and outs of Drifter’s Folly well. If Fields was right, the man had been stalking the trails for weeks. He thought of Zack. If his friend was out there, he was best equipped to survive on his own. Cole was an inexperienced camper, and Dave’s experience was virtually nonexistent.