Prey

           The campsite was set as Wes Sinclair and his fiancé Abigail Marsh climbed into their tent to gather warmer clothes. The temperature had dropped considerably since they had found their spot three hours before. The sun had long since set behind the trees, retreating from the sky like an ill prepared army in battle.

           Eric admired how Abigail’s long brown hair flowed over her bare shoulders, accenting her green eyes in a way that made his heart flutter. Her freckles were nearly invisible under her naturally bronze skin—God, how he wanted her—which he leaned in and kissed.

           “Stop it,” her tone was brash but the smirk tugging at the corner of her lips betrayed her.

           Wes pulled his shirt over his bare skin, which was several shades lighter than Abigail’s, as was his hair. His eyes were a soft blue which reminded Abigail of the ocean waves she danced in as a child, and that was what had caught her attention with Wes.

           “You know I can’t control myself around you.”

           She leaned in and kissed him deeply—fully—allowing her body to fall into him. She could feel the hardness of his muscles under his shirt. How silly to get dressed just to get naked again seconds later.

           “Good,” she said with a teasing tone that made Wes’ heart flutter. He laid her down gently atop the air mattress, tracing her lips and neck with his lips. From outside of the tent, the wind stopped, and the animals fell silent, but neither noticed in the moment. Their hearts pounded in anticipation and their breaths quickened.

           Then, there was a noise from outside of the tent that stopped them both. There was a crunching of wood, as if something of great force decimated it. The thunderous roar of cracking wood caused both Wes and Abigail to jump up in the tent, now standing and unconsciously holding their breaths.

           “What the hell was that?” Abigail’s voice shivered.

           “Maybe a tree fell.”

           “Oh great, we set up camp next to widow makers. We aren’t even married yet.”

           They stood their motionless for a moment, listening. The night had returned to silence as he smiled and pulled her into him, thinking of the ring waiting in his bag. After a year of dating Wes had never felt as alive and enthralled as he did with Abigail. But his thoughts were brought back to their campsite when another sound rose from the darkness outside of their tent.

           It was a low rumbling noise that almost sounded like a growl, but deeper, more horse. The blood in their veins fell cold, as if ice had replaced the plasma.

           “That wasn’t just a tree,” Abigail said, her voice a whisper, more trapped by fear than a desire to be unheard.

           Whatever stood outside of their tent approached the tent, its breath was heavy. It sounded labored. It sounded hungry.

           “What are we going to do?” Abigail’s voice was a shriek now.

           Wes thought for just a moment before he grabbed her hand and ran from the open tent, pulling her with him. They ran through the dark woods only slightly illuminated by a dull moon. The earth was soft from rain that fell earlier in the day and each step took more effort than the last. The thing chasing them—the thing that Wes and Abigail were too afraid to look back at—was closing in on them. Its growls were lower and its footfalls heavy, but it stayed slightly behind them, as if playing with its food.

           They had parked only two-hundred yards from where they set up camp, but in the damp earth it felt much further.

           Suddenly, the night fell quiet again. Wes and Abigail stopped, their lungs screaming in pain and the muscles in their legs cramping. They spun around but they saw nothing but blackness with the vague outline of trees. A fog seemed to swell up from the ground beneath them and rise, concealing whatever was after them.

           “We have to get the hell out of here,” Wes panted.

           From their left came a deeper growl which sent Abigail into a short paralysis. Wes wasn’t sure which way they had been running and having not reached the parking lot made him question if they had started off going in the wrong direction. He looked down at Abigail, “I love you,” he told her.

           Fear had trapped her voice in her throat, but she mouthed the words back to him.

           The thing hiding behind the fog covered trees let out a long bellowing roar that seemed to shake the world around them, even the trees seemed to have felt it. The thundering roar rattled Wes’ chest and he gripped Abigail’s hand tighter. He looked down and just below the fog he could see their footprints and the direction they had been running.

           Without thought, he turned them around and began running again. The unseen beast took chase again. In only moments they could see the trees part and the parking lot come into view, their car sitting alone in the lot only a few feet into the lot.

           Ten feet from the opening, Wes grabbed his fob from his pocket and silently prayed that his shaking, sweat soaked hands would not let slip only saving grace. As they ran, he quickly tapped a button three times, simultaneously starting and unlocking his truck. The dull moon made the red vehicle look more maroon, and as his foot hit the concrete, he heard Abigail let out a blistering scream.

           His eyes were glued to the truck as he pulled her closer to him with his hand. He opened his door and pushed her inside before climbing in himself, slamming the door, and driving back onto the main road. Whatever had been hunting them was hidden away behind the fog which had only deepened since it first appeared.

           When they were two miles down the road and the last of the trees were behind them, Wes stopped the truck and turned on his over-head light. Wes held her arm under the rays of light and found three bloody scratches that were deep enough he was sure she would need stitches. The cuts were jagged and unlike anything he had ever seen before.

           Abigail’s crying came through heavy panting. “What… what… what was that?” She forced out.

           “I don’t know,” Wes told her. “But whatever it was, it was hunting us.”

           Wes pulled Abigail into him, tightening his arms around her shivering body. He thought briefly of his mother’s ring still in the tent. But he knew he would not be going back to those woods. The tent and everything in it belonged to the thing that had chased them.

           “Let’s get you to a doctor.”

           Wes let Abigail go long enough to put the truck back into gear before pulling her back into him. “I love you,” he whispered into the top of her head, his breath blowing her hair slightly.

           “I love you, too.”

           As Wes pulled away from their spot on the side of the road, he glanced into the rearview and he thought—for just a moment—that he could see a set of dark red eyes watching them.