Now You See Me

I'd done this before. Gone camping over the weekend in one of the state parks just outside the city limits. I knew the trails and wasn't worried about getting lost. Ever since I was a kid, the outdoors had held awe and wonder in my heart. What I loved most about the outdoors was being alone. Very rarely did I run into other people on the trail.

Mo, the Blue heeler I'd adopted from the animal shelter was the reason I'd started hiking.

She needed the exercise and I needed an escape. So here I was, with Mo tugging at the end of her leash, picking my way up a winding trail. My backpack had grown increasingly heavy in the last two hours since leaving my car in the parking lot of the state park. It had felt like a regular Friday, until I got out of the car.

The feeling that someone was watching me settled upon me like a cloud. I remained alert, scanning the trees which were more bare than they had been two weeks ago. Readjusting my grip on Mo's leash, I began my climb up the trail that led up the mountain. It wasn't a mountain like Mount Everest but the incline was steep enough to make my calves burn as I hiked over the rocky trail.

I'd finally convinced myself to invest in some good hiking boots for this specific weekend, and though they were a little stiff, I would have to break them in, they provided good grip on the now slippery with freshly fallen leaves.

It was easy to get lost in my thoughts when I surrounded by trees and bird sounds.

Breathing heavily, I leaned against a tree for support, it's rough bark digging into my shoulder. Mo's little nub of a tail wagged furiously as she nosed around in the leaves, probably sniffing for squirrels. She loved to chase squirrels, though I never let her off the leash. There were signs posted all along the trails to 'Keep Pets on Leash at All Times' and the idea of her harming one of those furry critters would've been irresponsible.

The sun beat down through the trees, causing me to sweat like I'd been running a marathon. Closing my eyes I inhaled deeply through my nose. A woodpecker hammering into the bark of a distant tree echoed through the trees. It made me dizzy almost. Or that could've been the first signs of being dehydrated. Mo licked my hand, her wet tongue tickling my fingers. I felt alive here; away from the exhaust and constant noise of vehicles and people.

Mo seemed calmer here too. I opened my eyes slowly, not in any rush and decided to have lunch.

Taking my backpack off, I set it against the tree. I glanced around at the trees; every few trees there was a yellow piece of plastic stapled into the bark to mark the trail I was following. So there wasn't any way I could get lost.

Hooking Mo's leash onto my belt I sat down, the mossy ground feeling delightfully cool even in the heat of the day.

The repulsive smell of boiled eggs hit my nose as I opened the ziploc baggie I'd packed our lunch into.

Mo smelled it before I'd taken one out of the bag. She sat down on her haunches, wagging her nub like mad. I grinned, "Good girl Mo," I said chucking her a boiled egg, shell and all. She didn't seem to care about a little extra crunch.

Too thirsty to dream about eating a chalky egg, I unscrewed my water bottle and took a swig. That's when I saw it. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a white blur skittering a rock's throw down the trail. It was strangely human like, not a deer or a bear because neither of those had white fur as far as I knew.

It had been moving too fast for me to see a face or head. I didn't stir as my mind tried to catch up to my racing heart. I could feel my pulse hammering in my fingertips and suddenly I was cold all over. Taking a deep breath, I peeled my gaze from the distant trees and turned back to Mo. She was waiting, with one paw on my leg although I didn't remember feeling her place her paw on me.

Maybe I was just imagining things. Because if something was that close, Mo would've smelled it or heard it. My brain skipped back to the time when Mo had bolted forward, ripping her leash out of my hand and chased a raccoon out of the dumpster before I'd even known it was there. Of course, if there was something actually out there, Mo would be know. So I guess I was just imagining things. Stupid. The number one rule for when I was hiking was to not go schizo at the first unusual sound or sight; and being paranoid was the fastest way to get there.

Mo whined, her wagging her tail so hard her butt waggled too, like I'd seen a bee in some documentary about honeybees. Bees communicate with one another through a sort of dance that they do by wiggling their butt in specific patterns to explain to other bees where certain flowers are. Or something like that.

Mo licked her lips, brown eyes glued on the ziploc bag in my left hand. Laughing I tossed her another egg and tried to forget about the tingling in the base of my skull. The same feeling I'd noticed after locking my car and dropping the keys into the pocket of my skinny jeans.

I gulped down my unease and pulled my phone out of my pocket. Not that I had anyone to text for any sort of backup. My emergency contact was my mom until she'd passed away three years ago. No, she still was my emergency contact because I hadn't changed it to anyone relevant.

There was no one relevant in my life after she died. I was a loner, more or less. Sure, I got along just fine with my colleagues. I just didn't seem to make a lasting impression with anyone I'd encountered this far.

My phone showed that I had no signal and shrugged the tension out of my aching shoulders. The time on my lockscreen said it was only 2 PM. I still had plenty of time before the sun started to go down.

Turning slightly, I scrutinized the trees down the hill from me where I'd seen the white blur. Nothing. Just the wind toying with the orange and yellow leaves.

After filling Mo's collapsable water bowl that I took with me whereever I brought Mo, I put the baggie of boiled eggs back into my pack. The burning in my face reminded me I probably should've worn some sunscreen. Even though I was in a forest, the sun's rays were still intense enough to burn me.

I wasn't really hungry; either the heat had driven away my appetite, or I was too scared to eat.

I berated myself for being so paranoid as I climbed to my feet. Dusting my jeans off, I turned to grab my pack and caught sight of the white blur in my peripheral. My hands went ice cold as I clutched the heavy pack. I forgot how to breathe as the thing ambled with a gait resembling an ape's zoomed up the steep slope. Was it following me? Hunting me? I looked down at Mo for comformation that I was in fact losing my sh*t.

You're just imagining things. I told myself, biting my lip and starting up the trail again. It was just a hallucination. As if hallucinating is a completely normal and sane part of hiking. I momentarily wonder if I should seek therapy. My mom mentioned it before. Something about humans not being designed to be solitary creatures. Am I going crazy? Had quitting smoking been enough to push me over the edge? I wouldn't say I was 'addicted' to cigarettes. I enjoyed a good smoke every once in a while. Then, after lung cancer took my mom, I guess I started taking life more seriously-ish. It wasn't that hard to quit. The cigarettes definitely weren't cheap, but I did miss the little moment when I didn't think about anything else; my crowded thoughts just took a back seat for a while and I actually got to enjoy being in the driver seat. I know that's probably the kind of thing a schizophrenic would say/think.

Mo and I made our way up the trail and I didn't see it, whatever the thing is again. By the time four o'clock rolled round I'd found a clearing in the trees. It was big enough for me to pitch a tent.

Securing Mo's leash to a little tree, I began to unpack my stuff. In the shade, the heat was more tolerable and a constant breeze that fanned my blistering face.

After I pitched my tent, making sure to stake it down in case of a storm, I gathered some rocks. Making a ring with them, I then scrounged about for various sizes of twigs and sticks in preparations to make a campfire.

By the time I'd gotten the fire lit, my stomach had begun to grumble in earnest. Dinner consisted of more boiled eggs, no surprise there, and a pack of Twizzlers. I ate two boiled eggs, nearly choking on them. Mo whimpered impatiently as she sat beside me, practically drooling. I had brought a jar of peanut butter for the both of us. Peanut butter and crackers could make a surprisingly filling dinner.

It was messier than I'd anticipated. Not that I had water to waste rinsing the sticky peanut butter off my fingers, so I let Mo lick them clean. Yes, I knew about germs. In my pack was some hand sanitizer I'd brought for when I had to use the bathroom; and no, using the bathroom in the woods is not as bad as it sounds.

My thoughts wandered back to earlier in the day as I sat gazing into the fire. The orange tongues flickered and danced in a way that was mesmerizing. I wasn't really the type to roast marshmallows or make smores. I'd done that once with my mom, in the oven, so maybe that didn't count. What had I seen stalking me?

Clearly whatever it was didn't pose a threat or it would've attacked already. But I decided, poking the fire with a stick and watching the flames leap skyward, that I must've been hallucinating. Otherwise, my dog would have sensed it. I didn't want to admit to it was a figment of my imagination because would that mean I was having some sort of mental breakdown. But if it was real, why was it following me? I glanced instinctively over my shoulder, but the woods were quiet as ever.

I nibbled on a Twizzler and ran my hand through Mo's fur. She had ticked fur, white with blue grey dots and black fur on her head and paws.

Long shadows stretching across the leaf-littered ground and I felt like I could stay right here forever. Okay maybe not forever, because then I'd lose my job.

A shiver ran through me as the blur hurried by in my side view. My hands grew clammy and I half expected to hear the telltale crunch of dried leaves beneath the weight of a creature. The skeletal figure paused a couple yards away. Always keeping its distance. Then the creature turned its, hollow black sockets in a wolf-like face.

My heart bruising my ribcage in its wild attempts to flee but I managed to grip the stick in my hand tighter. Hopefully it was afraid of fire. The next second it was gone. I looked down at Mo who hadn't stirred and realized the Twizzler had fallen out of my mouth.

Forcing myself to relax, I tossed the Twizzler into the dancing flames and watched it smoke and sizzle; the red braided candy turning black and gooey as it disintegrated in the glowing bed of embers. What if I was wrong? What if I was alone in the woods with something strange?