(REWRITING) The Skylar Experiment : Coveting

Chapter Twenty-One - First Kill

EMMA

I HAD THE DISTINCT impression we were in one of those TLC shows where idiots searched the woods at night for Bigfoot and imitated their calls. As if they even knew what it sounded like. No one has ever confirmed their existence in the first place. 

I didn't believe much in hocus pocus stuff like the legend of the Chubacapra or the Mothman despite being surrounded by superstitious people. But I also believed in something they had no idea existed. 

Lauren might have been the closest thing to Bigfoot. She would roam, turning boulders, climbing branches, searching for frogs and snakes and rabbits. Bird watching was one of her favorites. She'd always meet me on the ground, bug in her fist, to terrorize me. 

If a spider appeared in my room, I thought of her, how she'd squeal and dive to catch it. I don't know why the world still goes round after people like her no longer walk it. 

I was doing it again. 

Deviating.

I shifted my gun onto the other arm. Fifteen minutes had passed since Mary and John left. The rest of us muted to make sure we'd hear over the walkie-talkie. I counted the breath clouds forming from my mouth before a signal. I was at two hundred and fifty-six breaths when the device crackled with John's voice.

"We have one in sight through the infrared cam. It's hiding and stalking from a distance for now." He sounded hushed, like he didn't want to wake the forest. "You can start up the trail."

Mr. Spencer held up a fist and we followed behind. My legs were stiff from standing still for so long. Miles walked at my right. He'd tied his blonde hair into a baby ponytail brushing the nape of his neck. He scanned the hiking trail, focused and businesslike, and looked different from the boy I saw in class each day. 

All the hunters wore a similar expression. They moved in sync, their footsteps light.

The walkie-talkie crepitated again.

"It's charging. Hurry up."

Miles pressed a hand against my back, urging me to speed up. All around me, the hunters broke into a run, pushing through the snow with strength. The white layer was tall and thick, unblemished. It wasn't the season for tourists, therefore no one bothered to clear the trail.

I was able to match the hunters, but my lungs burned and my breaths were quick and shallow. My aching body screamed at the effort. I knew I couldn't maintain this pace for long. Dropping the gun would help, but it was out of the question. I wanted to collapse into the mushy snow and lie there, but the revulsion at the idea of letting them down kept me struggling. I really was out of shape.

We covered what John and Mary walked in about five minutes, and I had fallen a little behind. When they stopped on the path, I caught up.

And there I saw it.

The Wanderer stood in the middle of the track, arms ending with sharp claws. Mary's body was glued to a tree trunk way high up and she couldn't move. It snarled at us, revealing its yellow teeth. I shivered, unable to feel my arms and legs.

My knees wobbled. It was so close I felt quivers patter across my chilly skin. Black dots teemed at the corners of my vision, my breath falling short. My knees buckled to the ground. The dark trees swallowed me like a black hole, the sky crashing over my head, and I wanted to hide but there was nowhere to go. I was a millimeter away from being sucked back into that meadow, the bonfire and the roaring crowd covering my screams. 

Stay present... Stay present!

My cheeks were wet. I was being removed from my flesh. I stifled a cry and dug my hands into the snow to ground myself, keeping the gun between my thighs.