The Hunt

“You’re going the wrong way,” Jessa stated blandly. Mitch wasn’t sure how she could know that. Her head was buried in a book and she hadn’t looked up since he started the car.

“I am not going the wrong way. I read the map. Besides, I grew up here. I know where I’m going,” he grumbled. She spared him a glance to roll her eyes at him and went back to her book.

Mitch looked at the scenery around them, all of it rolling by in a green blur as he sped down the road. He tried to pick out landmarks that would trigger a memory from his childhood, but he felt discomfited as he realized none of it truly looked familiar. He couldn’t pick out anything that reminded him of his happy childhood. Kind of like his marriage, now. He hoped this trip would fix that.

“There’s a gas station over there,” Jessa said. He looked over at her and noticed that she had put her book in her lap and was pointing out her window.

Mitch sighed but pulled into the parking lot. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, not to Jessa anyway, but they were lost. He must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. “I’ll go double check with the clerk that we are on the right track.”

Jessa nodded. “I’m going to use the restroom.” Mitch watched her get out of the car and walk away, feeling an ache deep in his chest. An ache that feared one day she would walk away and not come back.

The bell above the door jingled as he pushed it open and relished in the feel of the air conditioning. He meandered until he saw Jessa leave the store. Satisfied that she wouldn’t hear his admission about their current navigational issues, he made his way to the counter. He grabbed a bag of cheddar potato chips, Jessa’s favorite, and plunked them down in front of the clerk.

“That be all for ya now,” the clerk asked in a Southern drawl. It reminded him of his parents and he smiled in spite of himself. His own accent had long since bit the dust after years of living up north.

“Yes, thanks,” Mitch responded. He handed over his credit card and the clerk swiped it. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to know how much further to Lake Sunnyside campground would you?”

The clerk raised an eyebrow and rubbed a hand over his stubbled chin. “Sunnyside? That closed down round about five years ago.”

Mitch groaned. Great. “The website said it was still in business,” he protested.

“Well, ya know how things are sometimes. I heard it went bankrupt. I reckon they didn’t think about editin’ the site after that.” The clerk looked at him thoughtfully before looking toward the car and Jessa. “You two on a romantic getaway?”

The way he stared out the window gave Mitch a sour feeling. “Something like that,” he said, tapping the counter in between then to draw the clerk’s attention back to him and away from his wife.

The clerk smirked at him and shrugged. “Well, there’s another option for camping that went in a couple years back. Even better than Sunnyside, some say.”

 “Oh yeah? How do we get to that one?” When in Rome…

“It’s kinda remote, but you’ll wanna turn right at the fork in the road up ahead. Then follow through the trees and it’ll lead you right in.”

Mitch nodded. “Thanks man.” He picked up the bag of chips and headed back to the car. The counselor had told them they needed to take some alone time together. It sounded like that was just what they were going to get.

The clerk watched him walk away and smiled to himself. He picked up the phone and dialed. “Wrong turn buddy-o. Shoulda taken the left. It would have led you right to Sunnyside.” The phone call connected and he started to laugh. “It’s hunting time boys.”

Mitch approached the fork in the road and followed the clerk’s instructions, turning right onto a skinny gravel road. The sun was quickly sinking behind the horizon and he had to squint to be sure he stayed on the path. The tires bumped along, making his teeth jar together.

“Are you sure this is the way to Sunnyside,” Jessa said, jaw clenched and eyes wide.

Mitch rolled his shoulders, feeling the tension build with each bump under the car. “No, there’s been a change of plans, honey. The guy at the gas station said it closed down a few years ago.”

“But I looked up the website and it looked like it was still open.” She looked genuinely disappointed, and Mitch felt a glimmer of hope drive out some of the ache in his chest.

“That’s what I said, too,” he said with a shrug. “But he did say there was a new campground this way. I thought we could try that one?”

Jessa munched on a chip. “Well, we’ve come this far...”

Mitch smiled. “That’s the spirit. I think he thought it being so remote would scare us away,” he said with a laugh. “He clearly doesn’t follow our extreme camping social media accounts.” He reached out a hand to cover Jessa’s where it lay on the seat.

She looked at his hand, then up at his profile as he drove. She gave it a tentative squeeze before slipping away and retrieving her cell phone. “Well, no wonder. You can’t have social media if you have no cell signal.”

A loud bang echoed through the woods around them and Mitch shouted as he fought for control of his steering. By the time he wrenched the vehicle off the road he was sweating. Stunned, they sat in silence.

“What happened,” Jessa asked.

Mitch shook his head and then realized she probably couldn’t see him in the fading light. “I don’t know. Stay in the car while I go check.”

Not giving her time to argue, he got out and used the flashlight app on his phone. He circled the car, stopping when his light fell on the right front tire. Flat. He knelt to get a closer look before quickly standing again. No, not flat.

Mitch quickly skirted got back in the car, trying to shut the door as quietly as possible. There was a row of spikes in the road. Why were there spikes in the road? He checked his phone. No signal.

“Mitch,” Jessa whispered into the darkness. “What’s going on?”

“The tire is flat.”

“Did we run over something?”

“Yes.” Should he tell her? It was evident that the spikes likely did not wind up there by accident. They shouldn’t stay in the car.

“Well, what was it? I can hold the flashlight if you want to replace it with the spare.”

Before Mitch could answer, a white shape darted from the woods on their right and ran straight for their car. Jessa screamed as she caught sight of the huge wolf. Mitch quickly grabbed the pistol he kept in the glovebox. He unclipped Jessa’s seatbelt and lifted her over and into his arms just as the wolf made impact with her door.

The door buckled with the force and Jessa tucked her head in the crook of Mitch’s neck. The car rocked on its wheels and he feared it would overturn. Thankfully, it settled back on the ground with a pop. Unfortunately, the pop was the sound of the window cracking. A howl rang out in the distance and the wolf growled low before loping off through the underbrush.

Jessa gasped. She looked out the spiderwebbed window, eyes searching. “Is it gone,” she asked, voice shaky.

“I think so,” he said, crushing Jessa to him. “But, we can’t stay here.”

 “No,” she agreed. “If it comes back, it can for sure break through that window.” She looked out at the forest surrounding them. “But, where are we? You said there was a campsite somewhere up here.”

“That’s what the clerk said. Just up the road.”

“The wolf ran in the other direction. I think we should try to make it to the campground. Maybe there’s someone else there we can ask for help.”

Mitch didn’t want to tell her that the howl meant the wolf likely had friends in the area and scare her. While he liked that she had sought comfort in his arms, fear lead to mistakes. If the wolf came back with its friends, they couldn’t afford any mistakes.

“Let’s go,” he said. He shifted her over so he could get out and turned back to her. He held out a hand to halt her and smiled at her huffy sigh. He stood still for a moment, waiting to see if anything would emerge from the woods. Nothing moved.

Jessa slapped a flashlight in his hand and got out, ignoring his protests. “Use the flashlight so we can save our phone batteries in case we get signal somewhere.”

Mitch nodded. He took Jessa’s hand and she started to draw back. “We don’t want to get separated,” he whispered. Fear flickered across her face and she nodded, leaving her hand in his.

Before they could take another step, something whizzed through the air, coming dangerously close to Mitch’s head. “Bullets! Run,” Mitch shouted. He tugged on Jessa’s hand, urging her to keep up with him.

Another bullet raced toward them and Jessa cried out. Mitch longed to stop and make sure she was okay, but he had to keep going. A moving target was harder to hit.

“Jessa, you okay,” Mitch called out in between breaths.

“Yes, it missed me. I just screamed because it scared me.”

Mitch’s footsteps stuttered as they reached a clearing in the woods. A man stood near the trees. He held a gun in his hand, but he couldn’t have been the one shooting at them. That person was behind them. There was no way he was fast enough to have looped around them to get out in front. Mitch didn’t like the sneer that curved his mouth, or the way he placed the gun on the ground and took a few steps away from it. He was glad they weren’t being shot at but confused as to why he would have put the gun down.

“Ten minutes,” he said, voice snarling. Ten minutes? Ten minutes until what? “Ten minutes ‘til huntin’ time.”

Jessa’s nails dug into his bicep. The clouds broke in the sky and the full moon streamed through the gap. As the moonlight fell on the man, his sneer turned into a grimace of pain. He knelt down on his hands and knees, and his body began to twist and contort. White hair began to sprout from his skin and his fingers and toes curled into razor sharp nails. The whole shift was over within minutes. Where the man had been stood a massive wolf.

Jessa screamed and Mitch slapped a hand over her mouth, though he wanted to scream too. The wolf let out a loud howl that was echoed at least three times throughout the forest. More wolves. How were they ever going to get out of this? The wolf started to creep toward them, eyes glowing red and feral in the night. Mitch fired his gun at the wolf, but the bullet seemed to bounce off of it. He holstered the gun and grabbed Jessa’s hand again.

“Run, Jessa. Run!” She didn’t need to be told twice. She tugged on Mitch’s hand and they darted off into the woods.

“Where are we running to,” she shouted at him.

“I don’t know! The campground has to be close!”

Jessa screamed and her hand was jerked from his as she toppled to the forest floor. Mitch felt the blood drain from his face as he took in the large wolf that gripped her ankle in its mouth. This had to be a different wolf. It was a dark grey color, unlike the white coat of the one in the clearing. Jessa turned over onto her back and kicked at its face. Her foot made contact with its throat and the wolf jolted back with a hoarse snarl. She scrambled to her feet and they were running again.

Mitch glanced back over his shoulder to see if they were being pursued and felt relief when the road behind them appeared empty. His legs were getting tired; and, if his were, then he knew Jessa’s would be feeling it worse. Branches and thorns tore at their clothing, their skin, as they fled. He really should be taking note of the landmarks around them so they could find their way back if, when, when they got out of this. Where was that campground?

“There,” Jessa whispered on a ragged breath. She pointed ahead of them and he saw the faint outline of a row of tiny cabins. Thank you God!

The welcome sight brought on a final burst of adrenaline that powered them over the gravel road and toward the cabins. Mitch pulled Jessa to the first one they reached, but Jessa jerked on his hand and shook her head at him. “No, we can’t go to the first one we see. That’s too obvious. We may as well stand out here and let them find us.”

“You’re right,” he said, placing a quick kiss to her forehead. “Come on.”

The woods were eerily silent around them and Mitch tried to not think about what that might mean. Hopefully it meant that they had lost them. He had a sneaking suspicion that wasn’t the case, though. No way had they outrun wolves.

Mitch led Jessa to a cabin a few yards away and pulled on the door. Locked. A howl sounded behind them, deeper in the woods, and Jessa stifled a cry. The next two they tried were locked as well. As Mitch reached for the handle on the furthest cabin from the mouth of the campground the door flew open and he came face to face with a shotgun.

“What are you two doin’ in my neck o’ the woods,” the woman on the other end of the gun demanded. Her blonde, stringy hair hung damp and greasy from her scalp and the shift dress she was wearing had certainly seen better days.

“Please, please help us. We are being chased by…um, by some wolves in the woods,” Jessa pleaded. Mitch put out his arm and gently moved her behind him.

The woman picked up a tin can and spit tobacco in it before turning back to them. “Wolves, huh? I reckon ya’ll must be the pack’s new hunt.” Another howl sent shivers up Mitch’s spine and raised the hair on the back of his neck. “Get on in here.”

Mitch wanted to hug the woman but thought better of it. The woman stepped to the side and Mitch led Jessa through the doorway. The woman slammed and bolted the door. Mitch thought he should have felt better about that. It did look like a heavy lock. Yet something felt off, though. Something that was keeping his senses on high alert.

“There’s a bathroom through there if ya need it,” the woman said, nodding with her head in the direction of a narrow hallway.

“We’re okay, thank you,” Mitch responded. Jessa laced her fingers through his again and he could feel them tremble. “What is going on?”

“They all start the same, the hunts. So, I would wager that you saw for yourself what’s going on,” she stated, eyes sweeping up and down Mitch and Jessa. “Let me guess, took a wrong turn did ya?”

Mitch looked at Jessa and rolled his eyes at the humor in hers. “I got lost. The gentleman at the gas station said that the campground we wanted was closed, but that there was another one up here that was still open.”

She just nodded, as if she had expected him to say that. “Go on in the living room and make yourself comfortable. You’re in for a long night. The moon won’t go down for several hours.”

Mitch nodded at her and put a hand on Jessa’s back to usher her in the direction the woman indicated. “Glad to see you can admit it now,” Jessa joked. “About being lost.”

“Men never ask directions,” the woman said from the kitchen. Jessa smirked.

“This will be the last time I ever get lost or take a wrong turn, when driving or in our marriage,” he responded. Jessa just smiled at him.

After looking over the state of the couch and recliner in the small living room, Mitch didn’t think they would be making themselves at home. “Here,” the woman said, stepping up behind Mitch. He whirled around and saw that she was offering him a handgun.

“Oh, thanks, but I’ve got my own,” he said, lifting his jacket to show his in the holster.

The woman smirked at him. “Does yours have silver in it? Ain’t you heard the legends? Only silver can take down a werewolf.”

Not knowing what to say to that, Mitch took the gun with a nod of thanks. Jessa walked over to the mantle above the fireplace and scanned the pictures displayed there. He heard her gasp and hurried over to see what was wrong. “The picture,” she whispered.

Mitch looked at the photograph and felt himself freeze. There, in the photo, was the man from the clearing. The one who had turned into a wolf. His arms were wrapped around the woman living in this cabin. They looked younger, happy, less haggard.

A door in the back of the cabin banged open and the wolf, back in human form, stomped into the living room. Jessa screamed and Mitch cocked the gun in his hand. He aimed and, without thinking about what he was about to do, pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He opened the barrel and groaned. Empty.

“Dinner’s served.”