Do Not Come Back

The time was roughly around midnight when Lance realized just how bad he fucked up. He really should have realized around five o'clock when the sun began to set that he needed to sort this out, and quickly, but his cockiness had gotten the better of him. Now he was stuck in the middle of an unfamiliar hiking trail having been lost for the better part of the day because he wanted a quick look off the beaten path.

He has gotten turned around on trails before, it happened quite a lot for him naturally wanting to explore, but this path was new and he was unfamiliar to the area. There was an uneasy feeling that crept up on him after hour two of trying to find his way back, when the sun crept lower towards the horizon and thick storm clouds were rolling in. It was a sort of dread that could be ignored in the daylight, but it weighed heavy when the only light source available was at seven percent battery and draining fast.

Taking a break from the hours walking with a hopeless drag of his feet when his calves burned too much to run, Lance decided to rummage through his bag to see what rations he had left for the night. Half a travel sized Gatorade, the light blue flavor of course, a fun sized snickers bar that he must have forgotten about from his last hiking trip, and a light rain coat. Alright, so he is living like a king tonight, what more could a guy ask for in such dire circumstances?

Lance was tired. All he wanted so desperately was to find his way back to the car and lead foot it to civilization. He has always been the outdoorsy sort of guy, growing up with a forest for a backyard and a natural curiosity for how the ecosystem functioned, but he was prone to getting turned around if he strayed too far from what he knew. Following the direction of the sun and the stars was lost on him. He tended to only venture out little bits at a time until he was sure of the layout and studied them until he knew his way back with his eyes closed. He felt like this entire situation could have been avoided if he had just learned this new path first, rather than going against his nature, no pun intended, and exploring the unknown headfirst.

There was the faintest sound of a twig breaking off to his right, and then silence. The primal fear of being tracked and hunted had already taken a hold on him long before this moment, but that all could be rationalized away due to being lost in the dark. What could not be rationalized away was the second twig snapping just the faintest bit closer to his position from where he sat. Running would instigate a chase that he was sure to lose. Staying put could mean letting death approach him with open arms, and he was not too keen on being eaten alive.

Lance was afraid to move, but all he could imagine in his next moments were that of agony. He knew that some bears tended to eat their prey alive, not being picky in that regard, but if it were a black bear maybe he could scare it off by looking big and yelling. That was what he remembered from watching National Geographic as a kid, or at least, he thought so. Oh shit, what if it was a grizzly bear? Did they even have grizzly bears in these parts? Fuck he was going to die. A new wave of adrenaline kicked in as he shined the phone light in the direction of the noise and was met with just about the last thing he expected to see. Standing not ten feet away, was a rabbit. Normally, Lance would have been relieved to have seen anything other than a bear in that moment, but for it to have been a rabbit of all things was a cruel joke that the world must have been laughing at.

Lance had a thing about rabbits. He hated them ever since he was a teenager, the ever pressing feelings of guilt and remorse associated with what he had done as a child. He did not like to be reminded of his violent actions or how they came about. He is better now, and that is all that matters. The rabbit was taunting him. Laughing at him for feeling afraid and for being lost in rabbit territory. He needed to keep searching for the path.

“Fuck you,” he grumbled with an anger that only boiled out when being broached with this particular matter. Stuffing his few belongings back into his pack he turned in the opposite direction and began to walk. He let his thoughts spiral yet again about the past, the present, and if he had one, the future. If only he had stayed on the paved path he would not be in this mess. If only he had run so as not to see the rabbit. If only he could get out of here to see his family again, just once more. If only…

Lance was so distracted by his own thoughts for so long that he had forgotten to check his battery life and conserve power until it was too late. The phone light shut off in an instant and a small lighting bolt popped up on the screen, indicating the end of its life as he was plunged into total darkness. He thought he knew panic and fear before but this was different. This was a crippling sense of dread and anxiety and isolation. Different from the thought of being lost, or eaten, or hunted. He knew he was alone, and that was terrifying. Like a calm before a storm.

Then he began to scream. He screamed for help, begged for anyone to save him from the forest, from the dark. He was shaking and crying and sweating from exertion and panic. His throat was strained from the desperation of his screams. He was alone. So, fucking alone. Thunder boomed in the distance, but if lightning had struck, it gave off no light that he could see.

Lance was not ready for whatever came next, but anything would be better than the anticipation he felt from the silence that answered his pleas. The panic overcame him as he collapsed to the ground and curled into a ball, still screaming but voice gone raw. When his voice could no longer carry, he began to dry heave, throwing up what little food was left in him. It was not much, but he needed that energy, needed something in his stomach to stay down so he would not feel the acid burn and hunger overtake him.

There was no way for Lance to have kept track of how long he laid curled up at the foot of the tree that he found himself under, minutes and hours were indiscernible when blinded and afraid. Every minute felt like a few seconds and every hour passed never felt fast enough. At some point, he was unsure if he had fallen asleep, imagining glimpses of rabbits, of lights flickering, of people. Each new illusion brought a new wave of terror. Was he going insane or was this just a dream? Did the forest want him to stay lost? Was he just a dumbass that got turned around in the woods on a well populated hiking trail?

God he passed up an opportunity to be in a cheap dive bar just to be here instead. He wanted a cigarette and a vodka redbull. His friends would always give him shit for the combination, “Get a fucking IPA like a real man,” but he would give anything to hear them laughing right now, even at his expense. He needed someone to be with him right now more than anything.

He was hesitant to believe the sounds of branches breaking again, having heard various sounds of the forest all amounting to nothing, but this felt different. This, among everything else, felt real. This was the sound of something that was not afraid to be heard. A bear? A coyote? Lance no longer felt the adrenaline or the energy to act on his fear this time, so he laid in the dirt and waited. It had taken a few more moments of staring in the direction of the noise before he realized he could see a faint light emanating from the direction of the noise. The light was so dim he felt it was just part of his imagination, but he wanted to believe it was real, that anything was real besides the darkness. Another loud boom of thunder shuddered through the air, and this time, for just a moment, a flash lit up his surroundings. Tree branches covered his view of the being, so he could not catch a glimpse of what it was.

The closer the light crept, the more Lance felt like he should hide behind the tree he was resting against and wait for the thing to pass. There was a distinct feeling of shame in his cowardice, as if he should be able to face his fears head on to prove he was not afraid. It had been engraved in his very being at a young age that any feeling that was not anger or pride was a show of weakness, and to his father that was worse than death. Maybe that was the reason he broke so quickly when the light gave out, nobody could see his shame. Maybe that was why he hurt the rabbit when he was a child, to show he was strong enough. Maybe he just wanted more than anything for his father to be proud of him. His fathers pride would not help him here, in the growing brightness of the flashlight surrounded by trees and rabbits and fear. Oh fuck wait, that was a flashlight he was looking at.

The cry for help erupted out of him before he could properly think about the consequences. This stranger was walking alone at night in the middle of the woods, this could be a serial killer. Shit he was going to die. How many times can one guy think that in a single night before it actually comes to pass? The person stopped dead in their tracks, shining the light directly towards Lance. It felt like a standoff, well, one standing and one curled in the fetal position crying like a child, and Lance felt foolish.

“Please, fuck, help…I-I need h-hel…Shit. I got lost.” Lance's voice cracked and wavered as he begged the stranger to save him from this nightmare. He was met with silence in return, and that scared him. God if he was going to die, please let it be the bear. Dying at the hands of another person felt all the more horrifying. A bear just needs to eat and protect its territory, men kill other men for sport.

"You're no cannibal right?” This time the stranger began walking closer, keeping the light trained at Lance's face as if trying to blind him.

Panic shot through him again, “Wait wait wait w-wait w-hold on I'm sorry w-” He choked on his words, voice still hoarse and straining to speak at a proper pitch.

“What’s your name?” The stranger stopped just a foot away, still keeping the light fixed on him. The man had a much softer voice than Lance anticipated. It took a moment for him to stifle his anxiety enough to respond. “La-Lance. Lance Diaz, I was on a hike and g-got lost. Please, you gotta help me.”

“Listen Lance,” the stranger crouched down, “Do you know where you are?”

“No, no not really please just-”

“Good, keep it that way. These woods don't like outsiders.” That chilled Lance to the bone.

“Yeah, of course they don't, sure. Please help me.” He felt like a coward pleading in such a way, but he was desperate and this man seemed to know a thing or two about the area. There was another pause from the man, as if debating whether or not to aid Lance in finding his way out. He did not seem to catch on to how urgent the matter was to Lance, or rather, did not seem to care.

“Where are you from?” It sounded more like a demand than a question, almost like this was an interrogation. Almost. What was his deal, was he going to help or not?

“Not from here, my family w-was expecting me home hours ago,” he added the last part as good measure in case this guy was, in fact, a serial killer. He was sure acting suspicious enough as it was.

“Can you walk?”

“Yeah, yes. Please ju-”

“I heard you the first five times. Where did you enter the trail from?” Relief flooded Lance at the last question. He was going to be okay. His family was not, in fact, waiting for him to return. They did not even know or care where he was, but he was going to make his presence known as soon as he walked through those doors. He needed to be near people, near civilization and his family. Then he will never walk another trail ever again, probably. Maybe he will just stay on the paved paths from here on out.

“The south w-west entrance at the lake, I haven't seen the water in hours I-I don't know how far I am”

“The lake is just up ahead, I can take you back, but the trail head is about three miles north. Can you make that?” Three miles. That was all it took to get lost in the woods. Three miles. If he had just walked in a single straight line instead of trying to walk in circles all night to find a familiar tree or rock he would have made it out. Three. Miles. This was a new low. He made the decision to not tell his family. You are always such the drama queen, you would have been fine, He could practically hear his family mocking him for this. No, he was not going to tell them.

“Yes, please, I'm cold and tired, let's just go please. Can you also, ya know, stop shining that in my face?” Throughout the entire conversation, he was still being blinded by the flashlight, and struggling to speak after screaming so much earlier in the night.

“Okay. Now come on, and take this, you look like a kicked puppy you're shaking so bad.” Lance took immediate offence to the cruel pet name but figured it would be better to take an offering than to make any comments on the matter. After lowering the flashlight to the ground, the stranger handed Lance the long trench coat he was wearing. Once his eyes adjusted to the more appropriate lighting, he could finally see what the man looked like. He seemed to be around Lance's age, with long dark hair and green eyes. Pretty, Lance thought as he felt embarrassed for the state he was in while standing in front of this man.

“What’s your name?” Lance asked as he slipped on the coat and stood from his spot on the ground.

“Rafael, now grab your things so we can get going.” As he spoke he reached into the bag that was slung over his shoulder to produce another flashlight and offered it to Lance. The pair began to walk at a slow pace towards the direction from which Rafael came. Thunder and lightning were growing more frequent by the minute, as rain began to pour down on them.

After a short while of silence, Lance spoke up, “What did you mean earlier? When you said the woods don’t like outsiders?” Rafael kept a blank face as he ignored the question in favor of quickening his steps. Lance struggled to keep up due to his weakened and numb state. The temperature felt as if it were dropping by the minute and Lance could feel every bit of cold seeping into his bones. His muscles were sore and his feet were sure to have blisters from all the running in the boots he had not fully broken in yet. After what was more than an uncomfortable pause and more so a start to a separate conversation, Rafael finally responded.

“There is nothing I can say that will make you understand just how lucky you are that out of anything to have found you tonight, it was me.” Now Lance felt more creeped out than anything else.

“Vague. I hate it. Can you cut the shit and be real with me?”

“No.”

“What were you doing walking around in the woods at night?” Lance was determined to get an answer out of this guy.

“I could ask you the same.” Rafael still spoke in his soft tone, but there was a hint of agitation to it now, something Lance was used to hearing when he would prod someone too much in conversation to get what he wanted.

“I already told you, I got lost hiking the trail.”

“A trail you should know nothing about and never should have ventured into. Listen to me, when I get you back to your car, leave and never come back. Trust that I know more than you in this situation. Leave. Don’t come back. Forget you were here and forget how you got here. Whatever you do, keep your mouth shut if you run into anyone else who knows of this place.”

“Okay, I understand, geez.” Lance decided that for once in his life, he was going to do what he was told. He was going to be okay, and that was all that mattered. Besides, the car was just up ahead and he was almost free. Almost.