The Lost Faith

Mark drives down the foggy dirt road in his black jeep. The dirt under his tires shoots up from beneath them as they try to cling to the ground. He can barely see a few feet in front of him. A stream ran off the side of him, following the side of the road. The headlights are the only light in the road. No city lights reach all the way out here in the middle of nowhere.

He is driving to his aunt’s house in the middle of the Gunnison National Forest in Colorado. She sounded spooked when she called him, but the line broke up before she could say what the problem was, and Mark rushed out of his house with only a single bottle of water. That was two hours ago. If only she didn’t live in an inholding in the middle of a national forest. He’d be lucky to find her house, even though he has been there multiple times.

He checks his gas and notices it is close to empty. Damn, he was in too much of a rush and could barely think about anything. He just knew his aunt wasn’t ok and all he could think about was getting out there to help her. He already lost his mom and his dad hasn’t spoken to him for years because Mark didn’t believe in god. Mark chuckles to himself. “Like there could be any ghosts or anything like that. What you see is what we get, dad.”

 He hopes the gas will hold up until he can find her place. It is already eleven at night and he barely got any sleep last night because of his stupid neighbors, screaming at Call of Duty all night. He pounded on their door, but they couldn’t hear him. The headphones were probably noise canceling. He rubs his eyes and blinks them a few times in an attempt to stay awake. He hasn’t seen a single car for at least the past hour, just his own headlights and the road in front of him.

Where was he? He hasn’t seen that broken down shed the last time he came up here, albeit has been a while. The road continues to get more and more broken down. Grass starts to seep into it, making it one with nature. The dirt is mixed with a sandy substance now as well.

Mark shoots his head to his right as something glows out of the corner of his eye. He strains his eyes to see what it was but nothing is there. The only thing he can see past the darkness is the first line of tall trees. He shakes his head and continues driving down the road. He expects, hopes, any minutes he will turn a corner and pull into his aunt’s property, but something in the pit of his stomach tells him he took the wrong turn a long ways back and ever since he suspected this he has tried to get a map on his phone but the service is terrible out here.

He remembers his father’s words like he had just said them yesterday. God will show you the way. Follow his light and you will come out on top.

 “Ya, well, if he would show me the way, I wouldn’t even be in this mess in the first place. He would have just let me go to bed in peace.”

With a thud and a last gasp, his car comes slowly to a halt. Mark hits the steering wheel and grabs his phone and turns on the flashlight. The gas tank is empty. He opens the door and steps out into the cold night. A chill runs down his spine, planting him in that spot, cementing him to the floor. He brings his arms together for a hug to make himself warm and then he looks out into the forest and spots another glow for a split second before it disappears again. A cougar? A bear? Mark moves again and pushes towards the back of his car for the gas tank he always keeps in it. He aims the flashlight in the trunk of the car through the window and sees nothing. Confused, he opens the trunk, and the lights turn on. Nothing is back there.

“Just what I needed!” He kicks the car’s tire and immediately regrets it when he gets a big throb of pain. “Damnit.”

He checks around himself once again as the needles on his neck shoot out. He can feel a presence watching him. It has to be some sort of animal. Hopefully, it isn’t hungry. Mark walks back to the front of the car as a breeze picks up, sending his t-shirt to flap in the wind against his belly.

“Where the hell is your house, Aunty!” He screams into the night, hoping someone would hear him, or at least scare off the predators in the dark. Who was he kidding? Nobody is crazy enough to live out here in the middle of nowhere except his god loving family, who think God will save them on a whim.

Suddenly a dark shadow flies past mark’s head, scaring him, as he falls backwards and trips on a stone. His elbow smashes the window to the front driver’s seat. Glass falls all over the seat and blood streams from Mark’s arm. The blood falls onto the seat and dirt ground when he pulls it back out.

He grits his teeth and holds his arm, trying to stop the blood flow but it won’t stop. His breathing is faster as his heart beats in his chest, the blood pushes out from his arm in time with his heart. Does that mean it’s an artery? Mark’s vision fades in and out. He falls to his knees as the world around him starts to turn upside down. He pulls his shirt off, fumbling with his shaky hands, and rips it, creating a rag and ties it around his arm where the wound is. The blood flow slows a little just as his eyes close and everything goes dark. Darker than a forest in the middle of nowhere with no light pollution. Darker than the devil’s soul. Darker than the dirt he sits on, hoping he did enough.

Mark shoots awake as something in the darkness scurries off into the forest, shooting dirt up at his face as it runs. Mark, still dizzy, feels his arm. Pain shoots throughout it as he feels the blood-soaked shirt. This won’t last. He pulls himself up by grabbing onto the door handle and looks around. It is still dark out and even colder now, as he can feel the chill creep deep inside his bones. The pinpricks in his skin tell him hypothermia can set in, especially because of this fog making him slightly wet. He grabs the other part of his shirt and wraps it over the first rag.

Mark then searches for his phone on the ground and finally finds it tucked underneath the tire. He tries to call 911 but once again, it says, no service.

“Aren’t these damn things supposed to work anywhere?”

Mark almost throws the phone off into the trees but then decides against it and turns on the flashlight on the phone. The feeling of terror comes back to him, but just for a moment as he looks into the trees surrounding him. He has to go find help, maybe even stumble upon his aunt’s house. She can’t be too far away. He knows she’s out here somewhere.

Mark picks a direction that seems most likely to be where his aunt would be in and walks into the forest, through shrubs, tall grass, branches and a trail of blood following him. Hopefully the animal is gone or else he will be a nice early morning breakfast for whatever was following him earlier. Just one step after another. He is so weak and thirsty, and frozen. It was stupid to not bring anything with him, but his aunt sounded scared, he just wanted to help her. She is the one person who hasn’t abandoned him. She believes he will be saved by god and he will forgive Mark. But Mark doesn’t care. He just cares that she still loves him, and he knows he has to find her and help her, bloody arm or not.

Mark steps on a rock and loses his balance, falling to the ground. He lands on his good arm and picks himself back up. He notices his mouth is dry. He hasn’t had anything to drink since he left. He walks forward again but sees that whatever he tripped on isn’t a rock. It’s hard to make out in the dark, but as soon as his phone light shines on the object, he jumps backwards, almost falling over once again. He looks around for an explanation or the person responsible. There is no skin, it is just bone, so why would they be around here anymore? They are long gone. Right? Mark stares at the skull of what used to be a human. It sticks out of the dirt, half embedded in it.

Mark notices what is around him. A clearing juts out ahead, mostly of rock and dirt. A few heavy machinery and other equipment lie around on the ground. The fog is only deeper now, making it hard to see what is what. Just then, Mark notices a movement come from the side of one bulldozer in the clearing, and then moves behind it. It was a man that looked as if he was glowing, almost as if he was glowing from inside himself.

“Hey! Sir, I’m lost. I could use some help!”

Mark runs over towards the truck as the ground turns more wet, making Mark slip and slide on the mud.

“Please, I need some water.”

Mark turns the corner behind the bulldozer, but nobody is there. He looks around, confused. Where could the man have gone? Behind the bulldozer is a big clearing and to the left is a small mountainside.

Jackets lay on the floor, and lunchboxes are sprawled all over the place. Half-eaten sandwiches with mold growing on them sit inside. A chainsaw lies on a large rock, and next to it is an upside-down construction helmet. Blood stains coat the helmet red. Chunks pooled and dried in the inside of it.

“What the hell?”

Mark swallows his fear and continues his search for safety. It is like this place was suddenly evacuated. Like everybody here just up and vanished. Chills run down Mark’s spine, making his arm shoot out with pain.

This place feels off, like someone is watching him. Like something dark happened here and if he doesn’t leave, it will happen to him as well. But that is stupid to think. What could possibly happen to him that is worse than bleeding out in the middle of a dark forest with no way to call for help? Nothing bad happened here. They probably just cut themselves on something and the blood pooled in the helmet, and they all left because the job was called off. Right? No, then why leave all the equipment? Maybe for a night, but it feels like it’s been a lot longer than that.

The feeling of being watched comes back over him as he searches through the bulldozer’s windows. He spots a bottle of water. He looks around him back to the forest surrounding the clearing and then opens the door to the bulldozer and steps inside. He grabs the half empty water and chugs it, not caring if it’s infected with disease.

His dry throat fills with the water but the cracks and desert like feeling stay. It didn’t help. He needs to find his aunt.

Suddenly, his heart beats fast and a pure feeling of adrenaline and fear rolls through his body much more intensely than before. He hears sounds coming from far off in the distance in the woods somewhere. People are out there; they could help him. Just as he tries to leave the truck, the door slams shut in front of him. He tries to open it, but it won’t budge. He looks all around him through the windows as the screams of people get even louder and more focused. It is like they are right in front of him now. Screaming. Crying. He hears lots of footsteps running on the forest floor.

Mark looks around but everything is still completely dark. Darker even than when he was outside as the light from his phone glares so he can only see himself through the window. His heart beats faster as he fumbles with his phone, trying to turn off the light.

“This isn’t funny! Someone better let me out of here!”

Mark’s chest feels as if it will explode. His bandaged arm starts to bleed all over the inside of the bulldozer. He has to calm down or else he will bleed out in here, but he can’t. His breathing is rapid, like he just ran ten miles. His head is on fire, every neuron firing. Finally, his shaky hands turn off the light.

Outside stand these white figures in mining clothes from a long time ago. They are covered in dust and dirt. The screaming is even louder now as Mark tries to cover his ears, but it only makes it louder. His head feels like it is going to explode. An army of white, almost see through, people surround the bulldozer.

“Who are you?” Marks screams.

They just stare at Mark with frowns. Mark just then notices some of them have missing arms. Some have parts of their face missing, chunks just gone. This has to be a joke, right? He searches the cabin of the truck for a secret screen or camera, when all the ghosts take one step forward towards Mark at the same time. The screaming and crying persists. Mark’s heart has never beat faster as his vision goes in and out.

“Save us.”

“Our land.”

“Let us rest in peace.”

A hand appears on the side of the truck’s window, making Mark jump out of the seat and move away from it. Mark looks around him in a circle, back and forth, from each ghost to the next. He doesn’t know what to do. He can feel the fear in chest. His imminent death. The screaming. The crying. The pain.

Mark starts to recite the Hail Mary as best as he can remember it. Suddenly, a loud explosion sounds out and he hides down below the windows as a bright flash lights up the outside. The truck shakes. He can’t see anything for a few seconds and then it is dark again. Everything is quiet. No sounds. No movement. The fear has been released.

Mark looks up and over the console of the truck and sees nothing but the clearing of mud and dirt. He can hear the insects chirp away through the truck. The night sky is clear and vibrant with stars.

Mark grabs his shoulder, and without thought, opens the door to the bulldozer and jumps out. He is still shaking. What just happened to him?

A light turns on above the small mountain top and he can slightly see an older woman standing on the porch of a house. He smiles. Aunty.

When he reaches the top of the mountainside, he is still shaking and his arm hurts like hell, but he made it.

“Mark? What happened? Come inside.”

His aunt grabs him and helps him inside her small cabin. He sits in a living room with shelves of pictures of family. Books line one of the walls, one of them being the bible. A fire is going, lighting up the room a nice glowing orange. Mark’s aunt hands him a glass of tea and puts a blanket over his back. He just stares ahead at the wall, not blinking.

“I called an ambulance. They are on their way.” Mark doesn’t move, “Mark?”

Mark looks towards her at the floor. “There were so many of them. I could see through their bodies, young men, older men. Missing limbs. I could barely breathe. It was so loud”

“What do you mean? What happened?” His aunt sits down next to him on the sofa and puts an arm around him. “Is this about the site they are digging up? I told them not to. They are not letting the dead rest in peace.”

His aunt smiles. He just stares ahead at the wall.

“A long time ago, there was a mining accident down there. Plenty of people died in a large explosion.” Mark shutters in fear. “Are you ok?”

“I believe aunty.”

“Hmm?”

“I believe in god.”

Mark puts down his tea on the table in front of him and suddenly looks worried.

“Why did you call me earlier? Is everything all right?” His aunt looks at him, confused, and then shines with a smile.

“Oh yes! I just wanted to share an amazing cookie recipe I found.”

Mark looks at her with a blank stare and then smiles and laughs.

“I came all the way through that, just for cookies?” They both laugh and hug each other as the ghosts watch from the canyon below, knowing that Mark will help them find peace.

He did.