Something was wrong. The reeking odor assaulted Jake, forcing him to take slow, shallow breaths. The source of the smell came into view as he rounded a bend in Milltail Creek. Jake paddled his kayak toward the old hunting cabin, his friend Will beside him. 

“Jesus, what the fuck is that smell?” asked Will.

Jake didn’t answer. They both knew what it was. They just didn’t want to say it out loud. They didn’t want it to be true. 

The cabin was nestled in cypress and pine trees, its outer walls faded and peeling red paint. Its tin roof was rusted from years of abandonment. Several cypress trees had grown through the dock that served as its front porch and splintered it into pieces. Most of the cabin was hidden behind the overgrown vegetation, but its doorway was visible and stood open and dark. 

Unpleasant odors weren’t uncommon in the Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge near the Outer Banks of North Carolina. The marshes gave off a sulfurous aroma of decay at low tide. The boys had been coming to the refuge since they were small. They’d kayak and fish along its paddling trails, always on the lookout for wildlife. Today had been no different on their break from college. They saw several bears during their ten-mile paddle route, making it a perfect day on the river - until now. This smell was something different. 

“What do you think died in there?” asked Will. “A raccoon or something?”

“Even in this heat, I don’t think a raccoon would give off that much of a stink.” 

“A bear?” 

Jake considered it. “Maybe.” He wanted it to be a bear, but he didn’t believe it. 

“We better go check it out,” said Jake.

“Why?” asked Will, laying his paddle across his lap. 

“You know why.” 

Jake continued to paddle, hesitating at each stroke. Will followed behind  at a reluctant distance.

They pulled alongside the uneven and splintered dock. Jake put one hand on the planks and pushed down to check its stability.

“Do you think this will hold us?” asked Will.

“I hope so,” said Jake.

Although it was a beautiful day, swimming was not what Jake wanted. The refuge was called Alligator River for a reason.  

Jake tied his kayak to the splintered wood. Once secured, he shimmied up onto the dock and stood carefully, leaning on a cypress tree for balance and support. He flexed his knees a few times to further test the strength of the rotting wood. 

“Okay,” Jake said.

Will climbed up next to him. 

The two moved gingerly toward the darkened door, the dock creaking underneath their weight. Will gagged at the stench as they moved closer. 

“Definitely a dead bear,” Will said as if trying to reassure himself.

At the sound of rustling from inside the cabin, they froze and held their breath a few feet from the threshold. The rustling sound was getting closer. 

Will exhaled. “Hello?” he called out, his voice uncharacteristically high.

Silence. 

“Hello is someone in there?” added Jake. 

Still no response. 

“Hello!” Will yelled, shattering the silence once more.

Jake’s heart nearly jumped from his chest.

An opossum scurried out the doorway and disappeared into the brush beyond the dock. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” asked Jake.

“What? We found out what it was, didn’t we?”

They inched forward and stood at the threshold, peering inside. It was dark except for strands of daylight that poured through the doorway and cracks in the old plank siding.

“Which one of us is going first?” asked Will.

Jake shrugged.

“This was your idea, so…” 

 “Fine,” Jake said through clenched teeth. He closed his eyes for a moment, steeling himself for what he imagined he was about to see. He slowly entered the cabin.

After a few moments, Jake sprinted out and to the edge of the dock. He hunched over and vomited into the murky waters of the creek. 

“You okay?” asked Will.

Jake shook his head and vomited again.

“What did you see?” asked Will.

Jake couldn’t answer. He was fighting his gag reflex. 

Will turned from his friend and poked his head through the threshold. He quickly joined Jake at the edge of the dock and vomited himself. 

“What the fuck?” asked Will once the two were standing again.

“We have to call 911,” Jake said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. 

Jake dialed the number. He tried to remain calm once the operator answered, but his speech became faster as his mind processed what he had just seen.

“Me and my friend are on the Milltail Creek Paddle Trail at the old hunting cabin,” said Jake into the phone, his voice high and shaky. “We need you to send the police. There’s a dead body in the cabin.”