As he pulled the door handle, Sam Pascall felt the latch click on the rear door of his dark blue, GMC SUV. The door swung up over his head as he lifted it. Parked, the vehicle sat in the grass near their destination, at the edge of a narrow dirt road. Multiple species of trees lined both sides of the road in either direction. Sam stretched his neck looking through the woods for the clearing his brother had described to him. Through the thick trees, he couldn’t make out much, but he thought he glimpsed it. The clear blue of the river peeked through the canopy to the west.

Sam reached in to grab his backpack and swung the stylish, black bag over his muscular shoulder. As he grabbed the handle of his old, worn tent, he felt a rumbling from the ground beneath him. Sam straightened up quickly, he barely avoided hitting his head on the open door. As he stepped away from the car, he absentmindedly noticed someone take his place. Head on a swivel, Sam peered around and caught sight of some dust fall from a massive boulder not far away.

“Wow, did you just feel that?” Sam exclaimed. Looking over his shoulder, he eyed the others. “Did anyone else feel that?”

“What was it, an earthquake?” His girlfriend, June Moon, showed only vague interest. Stretched into the rear of the vehicle, June rummaged through the bags. Sam’s eyes traveled down her willowy body. He was a lucky man; June was such a beauty. Strong cheekbones and jaw; straight, black hair flowed over the front of each shoulder, divided into two braids. Sam’s eyes followed the curve of her back down to her waist. Her shirt rode up revealing her naturally tanned skin, common to Native Americans, and exposed two cute dimples on the small of her back right above—

“Ahem.”

At the sudden cough, Sam’s eyes shot to her face. As June eyed him over her shoulder, an impish smile lit up her face. She raised an eyebrow coyly. June pulled another of the tents from the vehicle and eased it against the bumper.

Sam gave his head a shake to clear it, before he replied, “Yeah, I think it was.” He’d almost fallen into her strikingly gorgeous, brown eyes. Attention shifted back to the task at hand; Sam leaned the tent against the car next to the others. He dropped the pack from his shoulder and laid it on the ground. Sam moved next to June and reached for another tent. “I wish we’d invested in some better tents. You know they have some that are smaller and easier to set up,” he complained focused on the well-used tents.

“As infrequently as we go camping, it’s easier just to borrow our family’s old tents,” June mused, “and cheaper.” June was almost always, sometimes maddeningly, the voice of reason.

“They’ve been happening more often of late,” Jim blurted. His statement brought a few blank stares from the group. Sam wondered what the hell that had to do with tents. The confusion on their faces convinced Jim he needed to elaborate. “Earthquakes have been occurring more often,” he explained. Now Sam understood, Jim hadn’t gotten a chance to weigh in, so he had brought the discussion back around to the previous topic. Jim liked to put his two cents in, no matter the discussion.

“There weren’t always so many earthquakes in Oklahoma,” Hannah complained as she shoved her bag to her boyfriend. She slipped a hair tie from her wrist as she reached back to pull her dirty blonde hair into a ponytail. “My grampa says it’s drilling for oil that causes them.”

Sam studied the other couple. Hannah couldn’t have been more than five feet tall. A lifetime of gymnastics and sports had molded her body. She had broad shoulders and a small waist. She wore a tight pair of jeans. A white, V-neck top, likely a few sizes too small, ended just below her belly button and showed off her flat stomach and well-defined obliques. From the look of her tan, she’d soaked up rays most of the summer.

By contrast, Jim stood three or four inches over six feet. Slim yet muscular, he wore a tight green polo shirt and a pair of khaki pants. He wore his gelled hair in a part on one side. A pair of rectangular black glasses perched atop his nose; a neatly trimmed beard covered the lower half of his face. Jim stuck out his chest and brought his arms around to meet behind his back. His sternum popped loudly. Sam winced, that couldn’t be healthy.

“Or Natural Gas,” Jim added as he stretched an arm across his chest and popped his shoulder. He reached down to pull some bug spray from the bag and spritzed his tanned skin. Jim offered the spray to the others; getting no takers, he stuck the bottle back into his bag.

“When is your brother going to get here?” June asked as she twisted to Sam and met his gaze. He knew she enjoyed gazing into his blue eyes.

“He’s already here. They got here earlier, to put the boat in,” he replied. Sam slung his backpack over his shoulder and snatched up a tent with his other hand. “I’m supposed to meet them near the river at twilight,” he concluded.

“They?” Jim asked, looking at June in confusion.

“His brother and nephew,” June replied as she and Sam ventured into the tree line.

Trees, great and small stretched out around them. Mighty, old Oak and Hickory trees sprinkled the landscape. The forest floor, covered in dead leaves and branches, was dusted with young saplings and wild brush. Still more types of trees filled in the rest. Through gaps in the tree cover, he could barely see the clearing where they decided to set up camp. It was about a hundred yards from the dirt road and an equal distance to the river.

They advanced toward the clearing, as they wound around any obstacles. Behind them, Jim and Hannah followed, lugging a cooler between them. The crunch of leaves and crack of limbs pierced through the quiet of the woods. Before long the tree cover lessened enough for them to see the entire meadow.

“Your nephew is here?” Jim sputtered as they caught up. “How old is he?” he asked.

“Gabriel’s eight years old,” Sam replied with a look over his shoulder. Confused by the tone of Jim’s voice, he shot a look at Hannah. “We told Hannah they were coming. Didn’t she tell you?” Sam queried.

“Ha, of course, I told him, but he never listens to me,” she complained.

“I do so,” Jim shot back annoyance in his tone, “what are we going to do with an eight-year-old tagging along. I mean there are certain things I expected from this trip.” Jim sat his side of the cooler down as they reached the center of the clearing and looked at Hannah. “Or at least hoping for. I brought this as well,” he finished as he pulled a small bag out of his pocket.

“No need to worry. He’s a good kid. Besides, he’ll be asleep by 9:00; 9:30 tops,” June said as she started to clear the ground of any branches or rocks. “You just have to be quiet is all. Which, I gather might be harder for some than others,” she jested with a glance at her roommate, Hannah. Sam smirked; June had mentioned that sometimes when Hannah and Jim were intimate, she tended to be a tad noisy.

“Besides, you can surely go a few hours without getting high,” Hannah said, neck and cheeks flushed red. She either hadn’t heard June’s last comment or purposefully ignored it, not deigning to respond. Sam thought it was probably the latter. She moved over to help as he started to lay out the first tent.

“I guess,” Jim grumbled, still put out by the turn of events. He joined Hannah and Sam to help with the tents.

Sam waited on the shore as dusk fell, by an old wooden dock. As Steve pulled his boat alongside the platform, the aroma of burnt logs filled his nostrils. Steve considered the time as he glanced toward the horizon and saw the sun, low behind the hills to the west. He tossed one end of a rope to Sam, who pulled it taut so Steve and Gabriel could climb from the boat.

“Uncle Sam!” Gabriel exclaimed running over to hug Sam.

Sam kneeled to take his nephew into his arms and smiled. “Hey, buddy!”

As Sam helped him tie the boat to the dock, Steve could tell Gabriel was tired after several hours in the boat. With the boy’s short brown hair and freckled face, Gabriel looked remarkably like himself. Steve still couldn’t get over how fast his son grew. Gabriel was almost up to his chest now.

“Come on we have everything set up,” Sam told him while he reached over to lock the fishing poles into the storage compartment on the boat. Steve ducked down to pluck the fish out of the live well.

The hill sloped up from the river at a gentle grade as they headed toward the camp. Walking along the narrow path, Steve noticed a thin layer of brown leaves had partially covered the trail. The leaves on a few of the trees had also just started to turn. It was almost time for the beautiful fall colors. It was a good time for fishing.

“Did you have fun today?” Sam asked Gabriel. He sidestepped some brush as he led them through the woods.

“Yeah, Dad caught the biggest fish though. None of mine were even big enough to keep,” Gabriel replied in a resigned tone as he hopped over a fallen tree.

“You gotta give them time to grow,” Sam put in. He dodged some small boulders. “You’re almost big enough to keep,” he said with a wink.

Gabriel scrunched up his nose as he gave his uncle a withering look. “Whatever!”

As they approached the camp, Steve saw a campfire surrounded by three tents. One tent was a little further away from the other two. Hannah and Jim were broiling hot dogs over the flames. A few feet from them a portable gas grill was waiting, ready for use. June sat in a lawn chair not far from the fire, reading a novel in the dim light.

Steve still didn’t know how he felt about Jim and Hannah yet, he had been around them several times that summer but still hadn’t decided. He’d hung out with his brother more often since his marriage had imploded. It might not have been so bad, but his ex-wife had gotten most of their friends in the divorce. Fairweather friends, the lot of them, he accused silently. He let out a deep sigh, that wasn’t quite fair, most of them had been her friends, to begin with. He glanced over to his brother’s girlfriend. June, on the other hand; she was great. She was always so kind to Gabriel. His eyes swept over the clearing and took in the campsite. Steve indicated the tent furthest away with a nod as he asked, “Is that ours?” He sat the fish down on an old cutting board.

“Yeah, I thought you might want some space when the little man’s bedtime comes around,” Sam answered. Sam pulled a fillet knife from his bag and tossed it over.

“I’m not tired,” Gabriel protested. “Daddy said I could stay up longer tonight.”

“But not too late,” Steve said distractedly, eyeing the knife intently. About nine inches long, the wooden handle protruded from a decorative leather sheath. Steve rubbed his thumb over the fish carved into the handle, before pulling the knife from the leather. On the blade, he could just barely see cursive writing etched in the metal. “Where did you get this?” Steve asked, still studying the knife.

“Found it at Mom’s house,” Sam explained dismissively.

Steve looked up at his little brother. “This belonged to Uncle Ben. I’ve been looking for this,” he said.

“Oh, well, now you found it,” Sam observed.

“Where was it?” he asked.

Sam met his eyes. With a smirk, he replied, “In the knife drawer, where else?”

“Huh,” Steve grunted as he and Sam started to clean the fish for dinner.

After everyone had eaten dinner, Sam reached over to the cooler and dragged it toward him. Sam undid the clasp and opened the lid. The ice inside had mostly melted, leaving the cool beers floating just under the surface. The cold water licked his hand as he pulled a beer from the cooler. Steve turned to the others. “Anyone need another?”

“Here,” Jim called; hand raised.

A muffled shriek floated through the trees and snatched their attention as it pierced the night air. Sam’s head snapped to the east, toward the source of the cry. His eyes strafed the tree line for a second. Much of it was indistinct in the low light, but there was no sign of movement. With the cry, an old story had flashed into his mind.

After a moment without any further sounds, Sam returned his attention to Jim then tossed the can across to him.

Sam plucked another can from the cold water. “Anyone else?” he asked, holding it up as he looked at each person in turn. Hannah was still nursing hers. Steve shook his head as their eyes met. June had switched to pop after her first beer. With a shrug, Sam settled back into his seat, next to his girlfriend, an arm over her shoulder. They hadn’t brought enough lawn chairs, so June had spread a blanket on the ground in front of a log, a few feet away from the fire.

The fish his brother had caught had been excellent, and you can hardly beat a flame-kissed hotdog. With the warmth of the fire in front of him, a full belly, and June snuggled beside him Sam was content.

“Has anyone ever heard the legend of the Wampus Cat?” He took a long drink, as the bitter liquid assaulted his tastebuds, he watched the others shake their heads.

“Ok, so long ago there was this Indian bride,” he began.

“Native American,” Hannah interrupted.

“What?” Sam asked with narrowed eyes, surprised that Hannah had interrupted him.

“Native American, not Indian,” she replied.

Jim broke into a grin. “Yeah man, you gotta be PC these days,” he joked.

“Shut up!” Hannah grumbled, with a roll of the eyes.

“Can I continue?” he chided. There was a slight pause before he went on. “Long ago there was this beautiful Indian bride,” he began again, breaking into a smile at the look on Hannah’s face as he ignored her correction, “who was resentful that her husband and the men of her tribe would always hunt while she had to stay home. Curious, yet aware that women weren’t allowed, she decided to follow her husband and the other hunters secretly as they set out on a long hunt. She concealed herself under the skin of a wild cat, and she spied on the men as they performed magic and told sacred stories.”

“The laws of the tribe had forbidden women from hearing the sacred stories and seeing their magic. When the woman was found, the men were furious. To punish her, the shaman bound her in the wild cat’s skin, transforming her into a monster. It is said she was half-wildcat, half-human, cursed to wander the woods forever. Apparently, she likes to stalk campfires, sometimes stealing food but sometimes attacking unwary campers.”

“Are there really wild animals out here?” Gabriel asked his father, eyes wide, fear written on his face.

His father gave Sam menacing glare before he laughingly replied, “No Gabriel, there’s nothing to worry about. Uncle Sam is just trying to scare us.”

“Well, it’s working,” he muttered to a general round of laughter.

As she crept through the woods, she caught the smell of cooked meat and burnt logs. Other smells were new to her; some sweet and cloying, others sour and bitter. The night was cool and dark. The stars were bright in the clear sky; the moon was full and bright. The moon looked closer than she remembered, massive. Confusion and hunger overwhelmed her. She had no clue how long she’d slept. From the painful emptiness in her belly, she could tell it had been so long since she had eaten. Too long. She was starving, ravenous.

Her eyes took in the fading light of the fire. She saw strange bright colored tents. The smell of the humans inside was enticing. It had been so long. She’d been stuck for so long. Confined. Caged. Imprisoned in the cave, trapped inside the rock until the earth itself had shaken. The deep rumble from below had torn the final pieces of her stone prison asunder, releasing her.

She could hear soft whispers and laughter from one tent. There was a sudden cry of alarm as she spooked a nighthawk from its nest. In an instant, she dropped to the ground, and the voices ceased. There was movement inside the tent.

“What is it Sam?” she heard a female voice say.

“Did you hear that?” the man asked as the tent flap opened and a head peeked out.

“What?” the woman asked.

“I think it was a bird,” he replied, slurring his words a bit as he crawled clumsily out of the tent. In the moonlight, the man appeared to have light, straw-colored hair. He was tall and very pale. “Come on, June, let’s see what spooked him. Come on.” The young man reached his hand into the tent to pull the young woman out. The young woman had rich tanned skin just like she herself had once possessed. The young woman’s hair was dark, separated into two long braids.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” she sassed, joining him outside the tent.

“Why not? It was just a bird,” he assured leading her away from camp.

After the two disappeared into the woods, she rose from the earth; prowled forward, and stalked her prey.

Steve heard an odd sound as he woke up. It was some kind of wet crunching. He rolled over in his sleeping bag and shut his eyes again. He tried to drift off again, tomorrow would be a long day. There were more squelches. Had the sound woken him? Steve wished they would cut it out, whatever they were doing. Right before Gabriel had gone to bed, Sam had chosen to tell that scary story, Steve could have throttled him for that. After that, his brother and his friends had started to drink more. When Steve had called it quits, after only two beers, they had still been going strong.

Steve heard that strange sound again. What was it? Rubbing his eyes, he tried to place it. This time it had been more of a squelching, sucking, gnawing thing. He sat up slowly, groggily wondering what the sound was. He looked beside him and saw his son was still asleep. Steve was thankful for that at least. He decided to see what they were doing out there. Steve unzipped the tent and crawled out, careful not to wake his son.

Steve surveyed the camp quickly, the fire was only embers now, and all else seemed quiet. Only that odd sound. Steve moved toward his brother’s tent softly in the moonlight. As he neared his brother’s tent, Steve saw the flaps unzipped and wide open. A peek inside as he bent over confirmed it was empty. Steve wondered where his brother had gone.

“Huh,” he grunted softly.

From across the way, he heard the odd sound again, Steve crept for the other tent. As he approached the second tent, he heard movement inside. Had Sam and June joined the others in their tent? God, if he found all four of them in there together, he didn’t know what he’d do.

The tent was closed, zipped to the top. Something wasn’t right. He pulled out a small pocket flashlight and switched it on. Steve circled around the far side of the tent. Coming around the side he kicked some loose stones with his bare foot, scattering them. The noise and movement inside the tent cut off. Steve could feel his heart speed up. Pointing the beam of light toward the tent, he was shocked to see the entire backside of the tent was shredded open. Inside Steve saw a massive shadowy shape turn toward him.

On the way back to the camp, Sam paused and pulled June in closer to him. They hadn’t been able to find the source of the noise, but it had been fun to explore the woods at night with his beautiful girlfriend. Sam had known there was nothing to be worried about.

“Sam, I’m tired, let’s go back to bed,” June pleaded. “We’ve been out here fifteen minutes. It’s getting cold.” Sam considered her. The air was cooler than normal for late August. The wind was likely coming from the river and the lake further to the south.

“Ok hon,” Sam conceded. It disappointed him not to find anything. “You go ahead, I need to get something from the car,” he said. Sam took his girlfriend into his arms, kissing her softly. “I’ll be there soon.”

June smiled sleepily and replied, “Don’t take too long. It’s cold out here.” She started to walk toward camp. Looking over her shoulder, a mischievous smile on her lips, she purred, “I need you to warm me.”

Sam made his way toward the car. The night was quiet and eerie yet exhilarating.

As he approached the car, Sam heard an ear-piercing wail. His breath caught as he spun toward its source. He took off running toward the camp as fast as he could. What was it? What could it be? Sam heard another scream and put on more speed.

Back at the camp, Sam scoured the area. He spotted a small flashlight lying on the ground near Hannah and Jim’s tent. Tossing caution aside, Sam bolted around the tent and traced the beam of light with his eyes. The back of his friend’s tent was a bloody mess. Shooting a look back at the flashlight, he noticed someone was lying rigid on the ground. Sprawled between the tent and the tree line, the body was still. Too still.

“Oh my God, no,” he muttered. His brother lay there, bloody. Still. Dead. Sam stumbled toward his brother’s body, dropping to a knee. He gazed slack-jawed down at the corpse. His brother was dead. Steve was dead. How could Steve be dead? What would he do? What would happen to—

Sam’s eyes widened. Gabriel, the thought burst into his head, where is Gabriel.

“Gabriel. Gabriel, where are you?” he yelled, searching for his nephew. Another scream rent the night air, louder and more terrified. Sam stood and whirled toward the sound; he saw a massive shape slinking away. Some kind of animal appeared to be dragging something through the brush. He started toward the shape and heard yet another shriek. This one ceased mid-scream, followed by a horrible gurgling sob.

Oh God, Oh GOD! June.

Sam stopped and looked around in panic. He ran toward his brother’s tent.

Empty.

Empty!

Where’s Gabriel, he thought again, where could he be? He heard a sound behind him and spun. Oh, thank God.

Gabriel stood next to Sam’s tent unmoving. He darted for his nephew, collapsing to his knees in front of the boy. Grabbing the boy’s shoulders, Sam scanned his nephew for any sign of injury. Then enveloped him into a tight hug. There was blood on his shirt and pants, but the boy seemed unhurt. Still clinging to him, Sam rose to his feet, lifting Gabriel with him. Cradling his nephew against his chest, Sam glanced back to where he’d seen the shape. The animal. Not knowing for certain if June was alive or dead, he let out a sob and scrambled for the SUV, Gabriel in his arms.

Next Chapter: Chapter 3