Drafts: Last-Light: A Camping Trip

Prologue

The sun hung high in the sky, casting a golden hue over the winding road that led to the Ozark Mountains. The air was thick with the scent of pine and earth, a promise of the wilderness that lay ahead. Emmaline Cleo’s 2028 Subaru Outback, a reliable if somewhat worn vehicle, rumbled steadily along the asphalt. The car was packed to the brim with camping gear, snacks, and the excitement of a group of friends on the brink of a grand adventure.

Zack Cleo sat in the passenger seat, his gaze fixed on the rolling landscape outside. At seventeen, he was reluctantly tagging along on this trip, dragged by his older sister, Emmaline. In the backseat, her friends filled the car with a lively chatter that contrasted sharply with Zack’s brooding silence.

Emmaline, at twenty, was the de facto leader of the group. Her long auburn hair was pulled into a messy bun, and her eyes sparkled with anticipation. Next to her, Felicia, always impulsive and seeking thrills, leaned forward from the middle seat, her laughter ringing out as she recounted a particularly embarrassing story from their high school days.

“Remember when Jeremy tried to ask out Missy at the dance, and he tripped over the punch bowl?” Felicia’s eyes glinted with mischief. “He was soaked head to toe!”

Jeremy, who sat beside Felicia, chuckled but rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I still think it was sabotage.” Despite his protective nature, Jeremy could take a joke, even if it meant being the butt of it sometimes.

Turner, sitting quietly in the back corner, offered a rare smile. He was the quietest of the group, often composed and reserved, but there was an air of mystery about him that none of his friends could quite figure out.

Rosie, nurturing and optimistic, had her arm draped over Turner’s shoulder, her voice a calming counterpoint to the raucous laughter. “I can’t believe we’re finally doing this. One last hurrah before we all go our separate ways,” she said, her voice tinged with melancholy. “Well, except for Jeremy and Zack.”

Calvin, ever the pragmatist, adjusted his glasses and chimed in, “It’s going to be great. A week away from everything—no school, no responsibilities. Just us, nature, and a whole lot of relaxation.”

Zack glanced at his sister, a silent question in his eyes. She caught his look and smiled reassuringly. “Come on, Zack, it’ll be fun. You might even like it. Besides, you need to get out of that room of yours every once in a while.”

Zack sighed, leaning back into his seat. He wasn’t thrilled about the trip, but he couldn’t deny that a part of him was curious. The prospect of spending a week in a cabin, away from his computer and the familiar confines of his room, was both daunting and strangely appealing.

The car continued its journey, winding through the lush, green expanse of the Ozarks. The friends settled into a comfortable rhythm, their conversation ebbing and flowing like the gentle currents of a river. They spoke of their hopes and fears, their excitement for the future, and the bittersweet reality of leaving their carefree days behind.

As the Subaru climbed higher into the mountains, the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the landscape. The anticipation in the car was palpable, each of them envisioning the week ahead—a week of freedom, laughter, and unforgettable memories.

None of them could have known that this trip would mark the beginning of an unimaginable nightmare. For now, though, they were just a group of friends, eager to escape the pressures of life and savor the fleeting moments of their youth. And in that car, amidst the laughter and stories, they felt invincible, ready to face whatever the future might hold.

For Zack, this was more than just a camping trip. It was a step into the unknown, a break from the monotony of his everyday life, and perhaps a chance to discover something new about himself. He watched the landscape change outside the window, the dense forest rising up to meet the horizon, and allowed himself a flicker of hope that this week might be different.

The Journey to the Ozarks

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the winding roads that led into the heart of the Ozarks. Emmaline’s trusty old Subaru Outback, packed to the brim with camping gear, hummed along the highway as the group settled into the rhythm of the drive. Zack, sitting in the passenger seat, glanced back at the animated chatter filling the car.

Felicia, with her ever-present mischievous grin, leaned forward from the middle seat. “Alright, guys, let’s hear it. What’s everyone most excited about for this trip?”

Turner, who had been staring out the window lost in thought, turned his head slightly. “Honestly? Just the peace and quiet. Feels like we haven’t had a moment to breathe since senior year started.”

Rosie, sitting next to Turner, nodded enthusiastically. “Same here. Plus, I brought supplies for s’mores. We’re definitely making those every night.”

Jeremy, sprawled in the backseat, scoffed playfully. “Rosie, you and your s’mores. I’m here to prove that I can actually catch a fish. No more canned beans for this guy.”

Calvin chuckled, adjusting his glasses. “Fishing, huh? I bet you’ll be wrestling with a boot before you catch anything else.”

Felicia leaned over from the back seat, a mischievous grin on her face. “Or maybe Jeremy will finally catch that mythical ‘big one’ he’s always bragging about.”

Jeremy shot her a playful glare. “Hey, I’ve caught plenty of big ones! Just wait, this time I’ll bring back proof.”

Turner, who had been quietly listening to the banter, spoke up. “As long as you don’t catch something that catches you back. I’ve heard some of those lake creatures can be pretty feisty.”

Rosie laughed, her voice light and musical. “Turner, you’re such a buzzkill. We’re here to have fun, remember?”

Calvin glanced back at Rosie, his expression softening. “Yeah, we’re all here to unwind and have a good time. Just think about the campfires, s’mores, and late-night stories.”

Zack, who had been gazing out the window, finally chimed in. “Speaking of stories, does anyone actually know any good ghost stories? I mean, we’re going to be in the middle of nowhere, might as well make it interesting.”

Emmaline shot him a teasing look. “Oh, so now you’re interested in making this trip fun? What happened to Mr. ‘I don’t want to go’?”

Zack shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “I can change my mind, can’t I? Besides, it might be cool to hear some creepy tales under the stars.”

Felicia leaned back in her seat, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “I’ve got a few, but they’re more funny than scary. What about you, Jeremy?”

Jeremy smirked. “Oh, I’ve got a real doozy. Ever heard about the Ozark Howler?”

Turner’s eyes widened slightly. “The Ozark Howler? Isn’t that just a legend?”

Jeremy’s voice dropped to a low, ominous tone. “Legend or not, people swear they’ve heard its eerie howls echoing through the forest at night. They say it’s a massive beast with glowing red eyes and a chilling cry that can freeze your blood.”

Rosie shivered theatrically. “Okay, that’s definitely going to keep me up at night. Thanks, Jeremy.”

Calvin laughed. “Don’t worry, Rosie. I’m sure the only thing howling out there will be Jeremy’s snoring.”

The car erupted in laughter, the camaraderie lifting everyone’s spirits. Even Zack found himself chuckling, feeling a sense of ease settle over him.

Emmaline turned up the volume on the radio, and soon they were all singing along to a nostalgic mix of 90s hits and classic rock. The miles melted away as they joked and reminisced, the anticipation of their adventure growing with each passing moment.

As they cruised down the highway, the landscape around them transformed from sprawling cityscapes to the undulating hills and dense forests of the Ozarks.

 The change was almost hypnotic, the serene beauty of nature a stark contrast to the urban chaos they were used to.

After a few hours, Emmaline’s voice cut through the chatter. “Alright, guys, we’re low on gas and snacks. There’s a station up ahead. Quick pit stop?”

The chorus of agreement was unanimous. She pulled into a small, rustic gas station, the kind that seemed frozen in time. The sign above read “Wyatt’s Stop ‘n’ Go,” and an old bell jingled as they entered.

Inside, the air was cool and smelled faintly of pine. Behind the counter stood an older man with a scruffy beard and twinkling eyes, engrossed in a weathered paperback book. He barely looked up as the group entered, the door’s bell jingling above them. The shelves were lined with dusty cans, old-fashioned candy jars, and various camping supplies.

Felicia, never one to shy away from a conversation, sauntered over to the counter. “Hey there,” she greeted with a grin. “We’re just stocking up for a camping trip. Anything we should know about the area?”

The man glanced up from his book, eyes scanning the group before settling on Felicia. “Well, howdy there,” he drawled, his accent thick and syrupy. “Name’s Wyatt Lumix. Y’all headin’ up into the hills, huh?”

“Yeah,” Felicia replied. “Just looking for a little adventure.”

Wyatt chuckled, a deep, gravelly sound. “Adventure, huh? Well, y’all picked the right place. The Ozarks got plenty of that. But lemme tell ya, it ain’t just the pretty scenery you gotta watch out for.”

Jeremy, leaning against a shelf, raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Wyatt leaned forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “There’s critters out there that’ll give ya more than just a scare. Bears, cougars, them’s the usual suspects. But then there’s the Ozark Black Howler and the Goatmen.”

Rosie’s eyes widened with a mix of excitement and fear. “Jeremy was just telling us about the Ozark Howler! He said it’s this massive beast with glowing red eyes. Is that what you mean?”

Wyatt’s eyes gleamed with interest. “Well, seems like yer friend here knows a thing or two. The Ozark Black Howler’s been spookin’ folks ’round these parts for generations. Big ol’ creature, bigger than any bear, with eyes that burn like coals. Some folks think it’s a spirit, others reckon it’s somethin’ else entirely.”

Jeremy, leaning against a shelf, looked intrigued. “I didn’t know people still believed in those stories. I thought it was just a legend to scare kids.”

Wyatt chuckled, a deep, gravelly sound. “Legends don’t come from nowhere, son. There’s usually some truth buried in there. People ‘round here, they’ve seen things. Heard things. And it ain’t just the Howler you gotta worry about. There’s Goatmen, too.”

Turner, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up. “Goatmen? Like, half-man, half-goat? You’re kidding, right?”

Wyatt shook his head slowly. “Wish I was. They say these Goatmen roam the woods, lookin’ for souls to snatch. Nasty buggers, part human, part beast. Folks around here have seen ‘em, swear by it. And don’t forget the usual wildlife – bears, cougars, and whatnot.”

Rosie looked around at her friends, her excitement tempered by a hint of apprehension. “Okay, so maybe we’ll keep a closer eye on each other. Thanks for the warning, Mr. Lumix.”

Wyatt nodded, his expression serious. “Y’all stick together out there. Forest can be an unforgiving place if you ain’t careful.”

Calvin, ever the rational one, smirked and gave a sarcastic nod. “Thanks for the heads-up, White. We’ll be sure to watch out for any Goatmen.”

Wyatt straightened up and returned to his book. “Y’all have a good time now. And remember, stick together. Ain’t no place for lone wanderin’ in them woods.”

Outside, Zack stood by the side of the building, taking a piss and staring off into the not-so-distant forest. As he zipped up, something caught his eye. He squinted, trying to make out the shape moving among the trees. It was large, lumbering, and seemed to vanish as quickly as it appeared.

A shiver ran down his spine. He quickly finished up and headed back inside, shaking off the unease that had settled over him. As he rejoined the group, they were gathering their supplies and preparing to leave.

“You alright, Zack?” Emmaline asked, noticing his pale face.

“Yeah,” he muttered, glancing back at the forest. “Just thought I saw something out there.”

Felicia laughed, slapping him on the back. “Probably just your imagination, Zack. Come on, let’s get to that cabin and start this adventure.”

Zack forced a smile and nodded, but as they piled back into the car, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching them.

Back on the road, the banter continued, but there was a new edge to it, a sense of adventure tinged with the unknown. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the forest as they neared their destination.

Zack glanced at his sister, who seemed more relaxed than he’d seen her in a long time. He felt a pang of guilt for being so resistant about the trip. Maybe this was exactly what they all needed—a break from reality, a chance to reconnect and create new memories.

As they drove deeper into the heart of the Ozarks, the shadows grew longer, and the forest seemed to close in around them. The road became narrower, winding through dense trees and rocky outcrops.

Inside the car, the group’s conversation had shifted to music gossip.

“Did you guys hear about that feud within NoodleHead4Lyfe?” Felicia asked, leaning forward from the back seat with excitement.

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, apparently Declan called Harper’s last album ‘a dumpster fire,’ and now they’re throwing shade at each other on social media.”

Rosie laughed. “Typical. Musicians always have the best drama. Personally, I’m Team Harper. Her lyrics actually mean something.”

Calvin nodded. “Agreed. Declan’s just trying to stay relevant. His music’s been going downhill for a while now.”

Zack, half-listening to the banter, glanced back towards Turner. The quietest member of the group was staring intently out the window on the opposite side. There was something in Turner’s expression that caught Zack’s attention – a mix of curiosity and unease.

“Hey, Turner,” Zack called, his voice cutting through the chatter. “What’s up? You’ve been pretty quiet back there.”

The rest of the group turned their attention to Turner, who blinked and tore his gaze away from the window.

“What were you looking at?” Felicia asked, leaning closer.

Turner hesitated, then shook his head. “It’s nothing. Just… thought I saw something moving in the trees.”

Jeremy scoffed. “You’re not getting spooked by Wyatt’s stories, are you?”

Turner managed a small smile. “Nah, it’s probably just my imagination. These woods are just… different, you know?”

Rosie reached over and squeezed Turner’s hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry, we’re all in this together. Whatever’s out there, we’ll face it as a team.”

As the conversation resumed, the group continued to tease each other about their music preferences and gossip, but Zack couldn’t help but glance back at Turner every so often. There was something about his friend’s quiet demeanor that left a lingering sense of unease in the pit of Zack’s stomach.

“We’re almost there,” Emmaline announced, her voice breaking the spell of the twilight that had overtaken the car over the last hour. “Just a few more miles.”

The group fell silent, each lost in their thoughts as the car climbed the final stretch of road. The conversation about music and Turner’s eerie observation faded into the background as the dense forest seemed to swallow them whole. The trees grew taller and closer together, their branches intertwining to form a natural canopy that blocked out much of the remaining light. Shadows danced across the car’s windows, creating an almost hypnotic effect.

As the car rounded a bend, the road became even narrower, winding through rocky outcrops and thick underbrush. The forest, now an impenetrable wall of darkness, seemed to close in around them. The tension in the car was palpable, each person lost in their own thoughts, contemplating the stories they had heard and the mysteries that lay ahead.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the forest parted, revealing a small clearing. The cabin stood at the center, an imposing figure in the encroaching darkness. Emmaline brought the car to a stop, and the group began to step out, stretching their legs and taking in their surroundings.

The cabin was a rustic structure, built from weathered logs that had turned a silvery gray with age. It stood on a foundation of large, moss-covered stones, giving it an elevated, almost imposing presence. The roof was steeply pitched, covered in wooden shingles that had seen better days, some of them missing or askew. A stone chimney jutted out from one side, and wisps of smoke curled lazily into the twilight sky, suggesting a recent fire.

The front porch stretched the width of the cabin, supported by sturdy wooden columns. An old rocking chair sat in one corner, its paint peeling and seat worn from years of use. The porch floor creaked under the weight of the group as they stepped up, adding to the sense of aged charm and mystery.

Large, shuttered windows flanked the heavy wooden door, their glass panes reflecting the fading light of day. The shutters, though closed, were ornately carved with patterns that hinted at a bygone era. A rusty lantern hung beside the door, swaying gently in the evening breeze.

The clearing around the cabin was a mix of wild grass and scattered wildflowers, bordered by the dense forest that seemed to press in from all sides. The sounds of the forest – the rustling of leaves, the distant hoot of an owl, and the chirping of crickets – created a symphony of nature that both calmed and unnerved the group.

“Wow,” Felicia whispered, her voice barely audible. “This place is… something else.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy agreed, looking around. “It’s like stepping back in time.”

Calvin, ever the practical one, began unloading their bags from the trunk. “Let’s get settled in before it gets too dark. We can explore more in the morning.”

“Cal’s right,” Emmaline said, clapping her hands together. “Let’s get unpacked and settled in. We’ve got a whole week to enjoy this palace.”

As they unloaded their gear and explored the cabin, the excitement of their arrival mingled with the eerie tales Wyatt had shared. The forest around them felt alive, the rustling leaves and distant animal calls adding to the sense of being far from the familiar.

Chapter 1: Landing at the Regional

 The plane descended through a blanket of low-hanging clouds, the landscape below gradually coming into focus as the aircraft prepared for landing. Zack’s head rested against the window, his eyes closed in a restless nap, while the distant hum of the engines provided a steady, soothing background noise.

Suddenly, the plane’s wheels made contact with the tarmac at Batesville Regional Airport with a sharp, bone-rattling thud. The impact jolting him violently awake, Zack’s heart skipping a beat as his body lurched forward in his seat. The cabin around him seemed to shudder as the plane bounced once, twice, before finally settling into a smooth roll along the runway.

The engines roared briefly in reverse, the entire cabin vibrating as the aircraft slowed down, the lights overhead flickering to life. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, Zack straightened in his seat, the adrenaline from the abrupt awakening still coursing through his veins. The familiar smell of recycled air filled his lungs, and the voices of passengers, previously hushed in the quiet of the flight, now rose in a chorus of muted conversations and the rustling of belongings.

As the plane taxied to the gate, the realization that they had arrived brought a mix of relief and anticipation, the finality of the journey settling over him like a heavy blanket. Zack remained seated for a moment as the other passengers began to rise, stretching and retrieving their carry-on luggage from the overhead bins. He stared out the small window, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings of the Confederate States of America. The landscape, though still largely unseen in the early evening light, felt different—foreign, even though it was just a neighboring country. The thought of being so far from the familiar confines of his room in Rockford sent a small pang of unease through him.

With a sigh, Zack unbuckled his seatbelt and grabbed his backpack from under the seat in front of him. The last traces of sleep clung to him like a stubborn fog as he shuffled into the aisle, moving with the slow tide of passengers toward the exit. The air was thicker here, warmer than he was used to, and it wrapped around him like a damp blanket as he stepped off the plane and into the jet bridge.

The terminal was bustling with activity, a mix of tourists and locals moving about with varying degrees of purpose. Zack scanned the area, searching for a familiar face, but all he saw were strangers—faces that only served to remind him how far he was from home.

He moved through the crowd, feeling somewhat disoriented in the sea of people. The voices around him blended into a dull roar, punctuated by the occasional announcement over the loudspeakers. He pulled out his phone, checking for any messages from his sister, Emmaline, or the rest of the group. The screen was blank, save for the time and a few notifications he ignored.

As he navigated through the terminal, Zack’s thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a familiar figure standing near the baggage claim area. Turner, his sister’s friend, and someone Zack had met only a few times, was leaning casually against a pillar, scrolling through his phone.

“Turner?” Zack called out, his voice hesitant, almost swallowed by the noise of the terminal.

Turner looked up slowly, his eyes taking a moment to focus on Zack. Recognition flickered across his face, but instead of a smile, there was just a small, almost imperceptible nod. He stuffed his phone into his pocket, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as Zack approached.

“Uh, hey, Zack,” Turner mumbled, his gaze flickering around the terminal before landing back on Zack. “Didn’t… uh, didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeah, um… yeah,” Zack replied, awkwardly adjusting the strap of his backpack. “The flight… it was, uh, it was alright, I guess. Woke up… kinda scared when we landed. Didn’t, um… didn’t sleep much.”

Turner nodded again, the silence between them growing thick. “Yeah, I, um… yeah, that happens. Sometimes.”

Zack shuffled his feet, unsure of what to say next. He glanced at Turner, who was staring off to the side, his mouth slightly open as if trying to find the right words. The pause stretched on, both of them caught in the uncomfortable quiet.

Finally, Turner cleared his throat. “The, uh… the others are in the food court,” he said, almost too softly. “Emmaline… she’s, um, really excited. About the trip. I think.”

Zack nodded, managing a small, tight-lipped smile. “Yeah… she’s been… she’s been talking about it a lot. She… uh, she can’t wait to get to the cabins. Surprised… she hasn’t already dragged us all there!” he said, his voice growing with his word as his joke came out louder than he meant.

Turner’s lips twitched, not quite a smile. “Yeah. She’s… excited.” He hesitated, then added, “Do… do you want to… get some food? Before we go?”

“Uh, sure,” Zack said, nodding a bit too quickly. “Yeah, that… that sounds good. I’m… kinda hungry.”

“Okay,” Turner replied, his voice barely above a murmur. “Let’s… go, then,” he said, pointing a pair of finger guns to his left, towards the food court.

They started walking side by side, the space between them filled with the hum of the terminal and the quiet shuffle of their footsteps. Neither spoke, both too wrapped up in their own thoughts, unsure of how to bridge the silence. Turner’s hands fidgeted in his pockets, while Zack kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, occasionally stealing glances at the people passing by, as if searching for something to say.

As they neared the food court, the sound of laughter and conversation grew louder, offering a welcome distraction from the awkwardness hanging between them. Zack spotted the rest of the group sitting at a large table, their animated chatter a stark contrast to the quiet tension he and Turner shared.

Emmaline noticed them first, waving them over with a bright smile. “There you guys are! We were starting to wonder when you’d show up.”

Turner and Zack exchanged a quick glance, both of them relieved to be in the presence of others. The awkwardness between them began to dissolve as they joined the group, the noise and energy of the food court offering a much-needed escape from their stilted conversation.

The smell of fast food, coffee, and fried snacks filled the air as they approached, and Zack’s stomach growled in response. The food court was a bustling hub of activity, with travelers seated at small tables, chatting and eating as they waited for their next flight or journey.

As Zack and Turner approached the table, the conversation between the group grew clearer. Calvin, as usual, was in the middle of an animated explanation, his voice carrying over the general din of the food court.

“—and you see, lobsters used to be so plentiful that they were considered the poor man’s food. They’d feed them to prisoners, slaves, even use them as fertilizer for crops. It was only when they started marketing them as a delicacy in the 19th century that the price skyrocketed.”

The waiter, a young man with a thick Southern drawl, stood beside the table, clearly less than interested in Calvin’s history lesson. He glanced at his notepad, then back at Calvin with a polite but strained smile.

“Uh-huh, that’s real interesting, sir. But I was just lettin’ y’all know that the seafood soup is the special this week,” the waiter said, his voice flat with barely disguised impatience.

Rosie, sitting beside Calvin, covered a smile with her hand, while Felicia and Jeremy exchanged a look, the corners of their mouths twitching with amusement. Jeremy leaned over to Felicia, his voice just loud enough for the others to hear.

“You think he’d order a history lesson if it was on the menu?” Jeremy whispered, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Felicia snorted, nudging him with her elbow. “Only if it came with a side of useless trivia,” she teased, her tone affectionate but edging on biting.

“Better than ordering more burnt jokes,” Calvin shot back, rolling his eyes as he noticed Zack and Turner approaching. “Hey, you guys made it. We were just getting started on some dinner before heading out.”

Emmaline waved them over to the empty seats, her smile as warm as ever. “Come on, sit down. We’re just about to order. Turner, Zack, what do you guys want?”

Zack and Turner exchanged another glance, both relieved to be out of their awkward bubble. Zack was the first to speak up, his voice a bit tentative. “Uh, just… I’ll have whatever’s easy. Maybe a burger?”

“I’ll do the same,” Turner added quietly, still looking slightly out of place among the more boisterous group.

The waiter nodded, jotting down their orders before heading off, leaving the group to resume their conversation. Calvin, now diverted from his history tangent, turned his attention to Emmaline.

“So, what’s the plan once we get to the cabins? You’ve got us doing a whole itinerary, right?”

Emmaline laughed, shaking her head. “Relax, Calvin. We’ve got plenty of time to figure it out. Let’s get our gear tonight and stay at the bed n’ breakfast, and we’ll think about everything up the mountain tomorrow. We have a full week.”

Felicia leaned back in her chair, her arm casually draped over Jeremy’s shoulders. “Sounds good to me. As long as there’s a hot tub somewhere, I’m in.”

“Or a cold lake,” Jeremy added with a grin. “Nothing like a swim to wake you up after a long drive.”

Rosie, always the peacekeeper, chimed in, “I’m sure we’ll have plenty to do. It’s all about enjoying the time together, right?”

Zack nodded, listening to the easy banter between his sister’s friends. He felt the tension from earlier slowly slipping away, replaced by the anticipation of the days ahead. Turner, beside him, seemed more at ease too, though he remained mostly silent, content to listen rather than contribute.

Chapter 2: Willow’s Rest

The group stood outside Willow’s Rest Bed & Breakfast, a charming, ivy-covered building that looked as though it had been plucked straight from a postcard. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the cobblestone path leading up to the entrance, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the old oak trees that dotted the property. The group had stopped here for a quick break before continuing their journey to the cabins, and the peaceful setting seemed to put everyone in a reflective mood.

Calvin was in the middle of recounting the local lore as they gathered around, waiting for Emmaline to finish checking in with the proprietor. Zack leaned against the old wooden fence that lined the property, listening with a mix of interest and amusement as Calvin launched into yet another of his impromptu history lessons.

“So, Zack,” Calvin began, his tone a blend of excitement and earnestness, “did you know that Cedar Hollow, the town we’re heading to, has a pretty rich and somewhat eerie history?”

Zack raised an eyebrow, curious despite himself. “Eerie how?”

“Well,” Calvin said, adjusting his glasses, “back in the late 1800s, there was this hermit named Grimsby—Old Man Grimsby, they called him. He lived way up in the mountains, away from everyone else, and folks said he was a bit… strange. He claimed to have visions, prophecies, about the town’s future. Specifically, he said that Cedar Hollow would one day play a crucial role in the battle between good and evil.”

Felicia, who had been idly picking at the leaves of a nearby shrub, smirked. “Sounds like someone spent too much time alone in the woods.”

Calvin chuckled, unfazed. “Maybe, but here’s the interesting part. Fast forward to the Confederate States War in 2025, Cedar Hollow actually did become pretty important—it served as a major hospital location for the troops. It was one of the few places that remained standing after the initial bombings, and they used it to treat a lot of the wounded.”

Zack tilted his head, intrigued. “So you’re saying the hermit was onto something?”

“Exactly,” Calvin replied, his eyes lighting up. “It’s just… interesting, you know? How this obscure little town ended up playing such a significant role in recent history. It’s like there’s something about Cedar Hollow that draws these big events to it, something almost… predestined.”

Jeremy, who had been leaning against the side of the bed and breakfast, rolled his eyes and grinned. “Yeah, yeah, sure. And I bet you think there are Goatmen roaming the woods too, huh, Calvin?”

Rosie laughed, nudging Calvin playfully. “Careful, he might start quoting more local legends at you.”

Calvin shook his head, grinning back. “I’m just saying, the place has a history. And for the record, the Goatmen are just folklore. But the Ozark Black Howler, on the other hand…”

“Oh no,” Felicia groaned, “here we go.”

“The Ozark Black Howler is another one of those local legends,” Calvin continued, ignoring the groans of the group. “Supposedly, it’s this massive, black-furred beast with glowing red eyes that roams the mountains. The early settlers and the indigenous tribes both had stories about it—something about it being a guardian spirit, or maybe a demon, depending on who you ask. People still claim to hear its howls echoing through the valleys at night.”

Zack smirked, trying to hide his growing interest. “You believe in that too?”

Calvin shrugged, a playful twinkle in his eye. “I think it’s fascinating, whether it’s true or not. There’s always some truth buried in legends, even if it’s just about the fears or beliefs of the people who tell them.”

Jeremy smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “If we run into a Goatman, I say we hunt it down. Wouldn’t mind mounting that on the wall as a trophy.”

His bold statement was met with a mix of groans and laughter from the group, but before anyone could respond, a nearby local, a middle-aged man with a scruffy beard and a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, let out a loud, derisive laugh.

“You kids really believe in that Goatman nonsense?” the man asked, his voice dripping with amusement. “Ain’t nothin’ out there but trees and shadows. Folks around here love spinnin’ yarns to spook the tourists. You’d have better luck huntin’ rabbits.”

The group turned to face the man, their curiosity piqued. Calvin opened his mouth to reply, but the man cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Don’t waste your time chasin’ after old wives’ tales,” the man continued, shaking his head. “You’ll be out in those woods all night, and the only thing you’ll catch is a cold. Cedar Hollow’s a nice enough place, but it ain’t got no monsters, no matter what the old folks say.”

Jeremy grinned, undeterred. “Guess we’ll just have to find out for ourselves. Maybe the Goatmen are just shy.”

The local chuckled again, clearly enjoying the exchange. “You kids have fun with that. Just don’t go gettin’ lost out there. These mountains can be tricky if you don’t know your way.”

As the man walked off, the group exchanged amused glances, the lighthearted teasing adding a new layer of anticipation to their trip. Before the conversation could continue, Emmaline emerged from the bed and breakfast, her expression a mix of excitement and determination.

“Alright, I’ve got everything sorted,” she announced, catching everyone’s attention. “I booked us a couple of rooms for the night so we can rest up before heading out tomorrow. And I rented us a 2028 Narglatch SUV to take us up to the cabins.”

Jeremy’s face twisted into a look of disbelief. “A Narglatch? Seriously? That thing’s almost 30 years old! Couldn’t we have gotten something a little more… I don’t know, modern?”

Emmaline sighed, clearly anticipating his reaction. “It was the only vehicle with four-wheel drive that could fit all of us and didn’t cost a fortune. Besides, it’s sturdy and reliable—just what we need for the mountain roads.”

“Sturdy, sure,” Jeremy muttered, crossing his arms. “As long as it doesn’t break down halfway up the mountain.”

“It’ll get us where we need to go,” Emmaline insisted, her tone firm but patient. “Trust me, we’ll be glad to have it once we hit those rough trails. Plus, it’s part of the adventure, right?”

The others seemed to take Emmaline’s words to heart, and the grumbling subsided as they began gathering their bags and preparing to settle in for the night. The prospect of a good night’s sleep and a sturdy vehicle for the journey ahead helped to ease any lingering doubts.

Zack stretched lazily, the warmth of the cozy room making it difficult to leave the comfort of the bed. The early morning light filtered through the thin curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. With a sigh, he pushed himself upright, running a hand through his blue-dyed hair, which stuck up in every direction. The room still held the faint smell of cedar and fresh linens, a comforting reminder of where he was.

He dressed quickly and slipped out of the room, leaving the soft sound of Emmaline’s breathing behind him. The hallways of Willow’s Rest Bed & Breakfast were quiet, the floorboards creaking softly under his feet as he made his way toward the dining area. As he descended the stairs, the sounds of clinking dishes and muffled conversation grew louder, the warm scent of breakfast greeting him like an old friend.

The dining area was already bustling with activity. Several families, clearly tourists like themselves, were seated at the rustic wooden tables, enjoying plates of eggs, bacon, and fresh biscuits. The atmosphere was cheerful, filled with the hum of contented conversation and the occasional burst of laughter.

Zack spotted Jeremy at a table near the window, already halfway through his breakfast. When Jeremy saw Zack, he raised his glass of orange juice in a mock toast, grinning widely.

“Happy you made it,” Jeremy called out, his tone light and teasing.

Zack couldn’t help but smile as he walked over and took a seat across from Jeremy. “Yeah, barely,” he replied, rubbing his eyes. “Felicia still asleep?”

“Out cold,” Jeremy said with a smirk. “She’s not exactly a morning person. But that means more bacon for me.”

Zack chuckled and glanced around the table. Calvin sat next to Jeremy, his head propped up on one hand as he stared blankly at his plate. His usual energy was nowhere to be seen, and his responses to Jeremy’s occasional jabs were little more than grunts or half-hearted nods.

Turner, however, was a different story. Sitting across from Calvin, he looked surprisingly lively, his eyes bright and a small, content smile on his face. He chatted animatedly, despite Calvin’s drowsy and somewhat rude responses, seemingly unbothered by the lack of engagement.

Zack observed them for a moment, trying to reconcile this Turner with the quiet, awkward one he had known yesterday. It was as if a switch had flipped overnight, and Turner was now radiating a warmth and energy that Zack hadn’t seen before. The contrast between the two of them—Turner’s upbeat demeanor and Calvin’s groggy grumpiness—was almost comical.

After a few moments of listening to Turner’s chatter about the day’s plans, Zack excused himself and made his way to the buffet line. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and warm syrup filled the air as he approached the spread of breakfast options. He grabbed a plate and started loading it with scrambled eggs, toast, and a few slices of freshly made waffles.

As he reached for a biscuit, a warm, drawling voice interrupted his thoughts. “Howdy, honey, welcome to the South.”

Zack looked up, surprised, and found himself face to face with an older woman seemed to be staring him up and down. She had a friendly, almost flirtatious smile on her lips, and her thick Southern accent added a layer of charm to her words. Despite her age, she was still striking, with sharp features softened by a light touch of makeup and auburn hair styled in loose waves.

“Uh, hi,” Zack replied, a bit taken aback. “How did you know I wasn’t from around here?”

The woman’s smile widened, a playful glint in her eyes. “Oh, honey, it’s not that hard to tell. Most Southern boys don’t dye their hair blue.” She reached out and gently tugged at a lock of Zack’s hair, her touch light and teasing.

Zack felt his cheeks warm slightly. “Yeah, I guess that’s a bit of a giveaway.”

“Just a bit,” she drawled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “And let’s not forget that build of yours—slim, runner-like. Most boys your age down here are cornfed, got a little more meat on their bones. Stalkier, you know? Makes ‘em good for hauling hay and fixing up trucks.”

Zack laughed nervously, not entirely sure how to respond. “I guess I’m not cut out for farm work, then.”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short, sugar,” she said with a wink. “You’d do just fine down here. We might even make a Southern boy outta you yet.”

Zack grinned, relaxing a bit as he realized the woman’s teasing was all in good fun. “Maybe,” he replied, glancing at the food options. “So, what’s good here?”

“Oh, everything’s good,” she assured him. “But if you want a true taste of the South, don’t skip out on the grits. They’re creamy, buttery, and just right. And those biscuits? They’ll melt in your mouth.”

Taking her advice, Zack added a helping of grits and another biscuit to his plate. “Thanks,” he said, genuinely appreciating the tip.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” she replied, giving him another wink. “You enjoy your breakfast now, and if you need anything else, just holler. We’re all family down here.”

Zack nodded, smiling as he made his way back to the table. As he sat down, Jeremy immediately shot him a knowing look, his grin wide and mischievous.

“So, how was your chat with the local cougar?” Jeremy teased, nudging Zack’s arm. “She looked like she was ready to eat you up—more than just breakfast.”

Zack felt his face flush as he ducked his head slightly. “She was just being friendly,” he mumbled, trying to downplay the encounter.

“Friendly?” Jeremy snorted. “Friendly like a cat with a mouse. She was all over you, man. I was half-expecting her to ask you to stay for another night.”

Turner, catching on to the conversation, chuckled softly. “Hey, at least you got some good advice on the food. Could’ve been worse.”

Calvin, still drowsy but managing to join in, muttered, “You could’ve ended up with her phone number instead of grits.”

The table erupted in laughter, with Zack trying to hide his embarrassment behind a sip of coffee. He knew they were just messing with him, but the attention was still a bit overwhelming. Despite that, the teasing helped ease the tension he’d felt about the trip, and he found himself smiling along with the rest of them.

“Alright, alright,” Zack conceded, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Maybe she was a little… interested. But can we please focus on breakfast now?”

Jeremy laughed, giving him a playful shove. “Sure thing, man. But don’t be surprised if she sends you a little something extra with your bill.”

The sun had risen higher in the sky, casting a warm glow over Willow’s Rest as the group gathered outside, preparing to load up the Narglatch. The crisp morning air was filled with the sounds of birds chirping and the occasional thud of bags being tossed into the back of the vehicle. Despite the early hour, the group was in good spirits, eager to get on the road and begin their adventure.

Emmaline stood by the SUV, checking off a mental list as she watched everyone bring their bags out. Felicia, now fully awake and her usual lively self, handed Jeremy a cooler packed with snacks, while Calvin and Rosie worked on securing the luggage. Turner was meticulously arranging the bags in the trunk, making sure everything fit just right.

As the last of the bags were loaded, Jeremy stepped back, hands on his hips, and eyed the vehicle with a skeptical look. “You know, I’m still not over the fact that we’re driving a relic,” he quipped, glancing at Emmaline with a teasing grin. “I mean, we’re just one breakdown away from making this a hiking trip.”

Emmaline rolled her eyes, clearly used to Jeremy’s jabs. “It’s not a relic, it’s a classic. And besides, it’s reliable, and it’ll get us where we need to go. You’ll thank me when we’re cruising up those mountain trails.”

“Yeah, if it doesn’t turn into a museum piece on the way there,” Jeremy shot back, earning a few chuckles from the others.

“Or fall apart like a puzzle,” Calvin added dryly, still clearly not a morning person but unable to resist piling on.

Zack laughed as he slung his backpack into the back seat, shutting the door with a satisfying click. “If it gets us to the cabins, I’m good with it. Besides, it’s got character, right?”

“Character’s one way to put it,” Jeremy muttered, but there was a good-natured grin on his face as he climbed into the front passenger seat.

Once everyone was settled inside, Emmaline took the driver’s seat, adjusting the mirrors and checking the GPS for their route. The SUV rumbled to life, its engine purring with a surprising smoothness that silenced some of Jeremy’s earlier doubts.

“Alright, everyone ready?” Emmaline asked, glancing back at the group.

A chorus of affirmations filled the car, and with that, Emmaline pulled out of the parking lot and onto the open road. The SUV rolled smoothly along the highway, its sturdy frame handling the gentle curves and occasional bumps with ease. The morning light streamed through the windows, casting long shadows across the interior as the group settled in for the long drive ahead.

The scenery outside shifted from the quaint charm of the bed and breakfast to the rolling hills and dense forests of the Ozarks. The first leg of the journey was filled with the usual road trip chatter—reminiscing about old memories, joking about the questionable reliability of their vehicle, and speculating about what awaited them in Cedar Hollow.

As the miles passed, the conversation ebbed and flowed, with periods of quiet comfort as the group relaxed into the drive. Turner, sitting beside Zack in the back seat, was surprisingly talkative, sharing anecdotes about past trips and pointing out interesting landmarks as they sped by. Zack found himself more at ease in Turner’s presence now, the earlier awkwardness from the airport replaced by a growing sense of camaraderie.

The hours ticked by, and the landscape gradually became more rugged and remote. The road wound deeper into the heart of the Ozarks, with towering trees lining the highway and the occasional glimpse of a crystal-clear lake shining through the foliage. The GPS estimated their arrival in Cedar Hollow to be just under seven hours, but with the good company and the scenic views, the time seemed to pass more quickly than expected.

As they approached the final stretch, the group fell into a comfortable silence, the anticipation of their destination building with each passing mile. The adventure they had been planning for months was finally within reach, and with the dense forest closing in around them, Cedar Hollow felt closer than ever.

Chapter 3: Entering Cedar Hollow

The sun was beginning to dip toward the horizon, casting a warm, golden light over the town of Cedar Hollow as the group’s SUV rolled down the narrow road leading into the heart of the town. The trees that lined the road swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves whispering secrets as the vehicle passed by. As they drove closer to the town center, the thick forest opened up, revealing a picturesque scene straight out of a travel brochure.

Cedar Hollow’s charm was undeniable. Quaint, well-kept cabins with flower boxes under the windows lined the streets, their rustic wooden façades painted in soft earth tones that blended seamlessly with the surrounding nature. The main street was cobblestone, flanked by shops and cafes with hand-painted signs and outdoor seating, where locals and tourists alike enjoyed the late afternoon sun. A large, crystal-clear lake sparkled at the edge of the town, its waters reflecting the orange and pink hues of the sky.

Emmaline slowed the SUV to a stop at a small parking lot near the town square. “Alright, everyone, stretch your legs,” she called out, turning off the engine. “We’ve got a little time before we head up to the cabins. Might as well look around and take a break.”

The group piled out of the vehicle, groaning and stretching after the long drive. The air in Cedar Hollow was fresh and crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine and wildflowers. The tranquility of the place was almost surreal after hours on the road.

“Man, this place looks like something out of a movie,” Jeremy remarked, glancing around as he stretched his arms overhead. “Almost too perfect, if you ask me.”

“Y’all can say that again,” a passerby commented as he walked by, his voice thick with a Southern drawl. “We like to keep things nice ‘round here. Welcome to Cedar Hollow.”

The group nodded in thanks, a few of them exchanging amused glances at the man’s heavy accent. As they wandered toward the town square, they noticed the locals moving at a leisurely pace, their conversations punctuated by the occasional burst of hearty laughter. The sense of community was palpable, as was the pride they took in their town.

A few minutes later, they found themselves standing in front of a small café with a porch shaded by a large, sprawling oak tree. The sign above the door read “Maggie’s Place,” and the smell of freshly baked bread wafted out every time the door opened.

“Might be worth stoppin’ here for a bite later,” Calvin suggested, nodding toward the café. “Looks like a popular spot.”

“Definitely,” Felicia agreed, peering through the windows at the packed tables inside. “But first, I need to walk off this car ride. My legs feel like jelly.”

As they continued their walk, they passed by several shops, each more charming than the last. One was a general store with jars of homemade preserves displayed in the window, another a small bookstore with shelves packed to the brim with old, leather-bound volumes. Turner, still buzzing with energy, seemed particularly fascinated by everything, pointing out little details like the intricate carvings on a bench or the way the light reflected off the lake.

“Y’all new here?” An older woman with a thick accent called out to them from where she was seated on a bench outside the general store. She was knitting something that looked like it could be a scarf, her needles clicking together with a rhythmic, soothing sound.

“Yes, ma’am,” Emmaline replied with a polite smile. “We’re here for a week, renting some cabins up in the mountains.”

“Well, y’all picked a fine time to visit,” the woman said with a nod of approval. “Weather’s just right this time of year. Not too hot, not too cold. Y’all make sure to stop by Maggie’s for supper. Best fried chicken in the whole Ozarks.”

“We’ll definitely do that,” Emmaline assured her. “Thank you.”

As they continued their stroll, they reached the town square, where a few children were playing near the fountain. The square was dominated by a tall, white clock tower, its face gleaming in the late afternoon sun. The sound of the clock’s chimes echoed softly through the square, adding to the serene atmosphere.

Zack, who had been quietly taking in the sights, finally spoke up. “This place feels… different. Like it’s been here forever, untouched by everything else.”

“That’s ‘cause it has, mostly,” an old man seated nearby chimed in, his voice raspy with age but clear as a bell. “Cedar Hollow’s got a long history. We’ve seen it all—good times and bad. But we always bounce back. Just the way of things ‘round here.”

Calvin couldn’t resist engaging with the man. “I’ve read about the town’s past. Founded in the early 1800s, right? I heard there were pioneers who settled here, and that the town grew because of its abundant natural resources.”

The old man nodded slowly, a knowing look in his eyes. “That’s right. And it’s more than just resources. This place has got somethin’ special ‘bout it. Can’t quite put it into words, but you can feel it, can’t ya? Like there’s somethin’ watchin’ over us. Somethin’ that’s been here long before we ever showed up.”

Zack felt a chill run down his spine at the man’s words, though the tone was more comforting than ominous. The group fell silent for a moment, each of them lost in thought, absorbing the weight of the town’s history.

The group lingered outside the town square for a moment longer before Emmaline suggested they explore some of the shops lining the main street. The suggestion was met with nods of agreement, and soon they found themselves standing in front of a small souvenir shop. The sign above the door read “Ozark Treasures,” and the display window was filled with an assortment of trinkets—hand-carved wooden figures, postcards, and various items celebrating the local wildlife.

As they entered, the door chimed softly, announcing their presence. The shop was cozy, with shelves packed tightly with all manner of keepsakes. The scent of cedar wood mingled with the faint aroma of burning candles, creating an inviting atmosphere. A few other customers, mostly tourists, wandered the aisles, browsing through the selections.

Calvin was immediately drawn to a corner of the shop where a small display showcased historical memorabilia. There were old maps, replicas of Confederate flags, and books about the history of the Ozarks and the Confederate States. As he leafed through one of the books, he couldn’t help but strike up a conversation with the shopkeeper, a middle-aged man with a grizzled beard and a cap that read “Proud of the South.”

“Hey there, son,” the man greeted, his thick accent making the words drawl out. “Y’all lookin’ for somethin’ specific, or just browsin’?”

“Just browsing for now,” Calvin replied with a polite smile, his fingers tracing the spine of an old book about the Confederate States War. “This is a pretty interesting collection you’ve got here.”

“Yep, got a lotta history in these parts,” the man said with a nod. “Name’s Lenny, by the way.”

“Calvin,” he introduced himself, offering a handshake, which Lenny took with a firm grip. “I’ve been reading up on the war—the one back in 2025 between the New Western States and the Confederate States. The Ozarks were a prime war zone, right?”

Lenny nodded, a somber expression crossing his face. “That they were. Lotta blood spilled in these hills. Both sides thought they were fightin’ for what’s right, but it was a damn mess, I tell ya. Hard to believe it’s been almost twenty years.”

Calvin continued, his interest clearly piqued. “And before that, in 2023, the South’s succession from Federal America—it’s fascinating how the nation split again, almost like history repeating itself. Though I have to say, I’m not exactly a fan of how things turned out.”

Lenny raised an eyebrow, sensing the shift in Calvin’s tone. “Oh? And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Calvin hesitated for a moment, but then pressed on. “I’m from the Federal States, up north. We stand for principles of democracy, the rule of law, and national unity. I just think it’s a shame how the South chose to break away again, clinging to this idea of states’ rights over the unity of the nation.”

Lenny’s eyes narrowed, his friendly demeanor taking on a harder edge. “You talk like you know what’s best for everyone, son. But what y’all don’t get up there is that the South ain’t just about ‘clingin’ to old ideas.’ We’ve got our traditions, our values, and we believe in the power of local governance. We ain’t interested in being told how to live by folks who don’t understand us.”

Calvin folded his arms, the tension in his posture clear. “But look where it led—a bloody war that tore apart one of the greatest empires in history. It just seems to me like the South was more interested in holding on to the past than moving forward.”

Lenny bristled at the comment, his voice growing sharper. “You think we’re backward just ‘cause we value our own way of life? The South’s got every right to determine its own future. We ain’t got to answer to some centralized government that don’t care ‘bout our people. Maybe y’all up there could learn a thing or two ‘bout respectin’ folks’ choices.”

Calvin’s jaw tightened. “I’m all for respecting people’s choices, but not when those choices lead to widespread suffering. The South’s decision to secede and fight for states’ rights cost thousands of lives and nearly destroyed the region. How can you defend that?”

Lenny leaned in closer, his voice lowering but still laced with intensity. “You ever stop to think that maybe, just maybe, some things are worth fightin’ for? You talk ‘bout sufferin’, but what ‘bout the sufferin’ we’d have faced if we just rolled over and let the Feds control every aspect of our lives? We’d have lost our identity, our way of life, and everything our ancestors fought to protect.”

Calvin shot back, “And what about the suffering your ancestors caused? The South has a long history of resisting progress in the name of tradition. Slavery, segregation—those were defended as ‘states’ rights’ too. How is this any different?”

Lenny’s face hardened, his eyes flashing with anger. “Don’t you dare compare this to that,” he growled. “What we fought for in 2023 was about preserving our autonomy, not oppressin’ people. We’ve moved past those dark times, but y’all up north keep dredgin’ it up like it’s the only thing that defines us. And let me remind ya, it was the Republican Party that freed the slaves, meanwhile them democrats who ended up runnin’ the show in your Federal States wanted to expand the trade. Hell, most of y’all didn’t even have much to do with black folks. My first, second, and fifth girlfriend was dark, kid.”

Calvin’s response was immediate. “But that doesn’t change the fact that the South chose to secede again. It doesn’t erase the damage done by constantly resisting progress.”

Lenny’s voice took on a hardened edge. “And you think the North’s any better? Y’all claim to be progressive, but what good is that when your cities are riddled with crime, and folks are left to fend for themselves in a corrupt system? At least down here, we look out for our own.”

Calvin didn’t back down. “But at what cost, Lenny? The war nearly destroyed the South. How can you still defend a system that led to so much suffering?”

Lenny leaned in, his voice low and intense. “And what ‘bout the Federal States, huh? Y’all got your own problems—ain’t exactly a paradise up there, is it? High unemployment, cities overrun with crime, and don’t even get me started on the corruption. But I betcha didn’t think ‘bout that when you came down here, did ya? We’ve got our troubles, sure, but at least we’re tryin’ to fix ‘em ourselves, not waitin’ for some government that don’t give a damn to do it for us.”

Calvin opened his mouth to respond, but Lenny wasn’t finished. “And let me ask ya this, Mr. ‘Federal States.”—how’s that unity workin’ out for ya? Y’all got folks up there who don’t trust each other, who don’t feel like they belong. Meanwhile, we might be divided, you might call it old-fashioned, but we call it loyalty. Loyalty to family, to neighbors. Y’all can keep your ‘progress,’ but don’t you dare say we don’t care about movin’ forward. We just do it our way.”

The atmosphere in the shop had grown tense, with a few of the other customers glancing over at the raised voices. Zack, standing nearby, shifted uncomfortably, sensing the argument was teetering on the edge of something more heated.

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken tension. Calvin felt the weight of Lenny’s words, his own arguments suddenly feeling less certain. He couldn’t deny that there were issues in the Federal States—problems that he’d seen firsthand but often chose to overlook in favor of defending the principles he believed in.

Finally, Calvin nodded, though his expression was still tight with frustration. “You’ve got a point,” he admitted grudgingly. “I didn’t think about it like that.”

Lenny straightened up, his demeanor softening just a touch. “Ain’t sayin’ y’all are wrong ‘bout everything, kid. Just that there’s more to it than what you read in books. But I appreciate ya listenin’. Takes guts to admit when you ain’t thought of somethin’.”

The two stood there for a moment, the heat of the argument simmering down as mutual respect replaced the earlier hostility. Calvin didn’t feel entirely convinced by Lenny’s perspective, but he had to acknowledge that there were truths to the man’s words—truths he hadn’t considered before.

Felicia, sensing the tension had passed, let out a low whistle. “Well, that got intense. Think we should get back on the road before you two start debating the meaning of life?”

Zack chuckled nervously, relieved the confrontation hadn’t escalated further. “Yeah, probably a good idea.”

Emmaline, who had been quietly watching the exchange, gave Lenny a polite nod. “Thanks for the chat, sir. We should be heading out.”

Lenny tipped his hat to the group, his expression now more neutral. “Y’all have a good stay in Cedar Hollow. And remember—this place has seen a lot, but it’s still standin’. Might be somethin’ to think ‘bout.”

As they left the shop and stepped back into the bright afternoon sunlight, the group was quieter than before, each of them lost in their own thoughts. The beauty of Cedar Hollow was still there, but the weight of its history—and the present-day complexities—hung over them like a shadow.

Calvin, for his part, remained silent as they walked back to the SUV. It wasn’t until the group got back to the comfort of their vehicle that Jeremy spoke up, his voice low but laced with frustration. “Cal, what the fuck?”

Calvin, who had been deep in thought, looked up, surprised by the harshness in Jeremy’s tone. “What? I was just having a conversation. He brought up history, so I thought it was fair game to discuss it.”

Jeremy shook his head, his expression a mix of disbelief and irritation. “Fair game? Cal, you’re visiting his country. You don’t just go around telling people that their country is wrong, especially when tensions are still high.”

Calvin frowned, his arms crossing defensively over his chest. “I wasn’t telling him he was wrong, I was just pointing out that—”

“That the South was on the wrong side of history?” Jeremy cut him off, his voice rising. “You don’t think that’s a little condescending? You’re up here, in a place where people still feel the weight of those wars, and you’re acting like you know better.”

Calvin’s expression hardened. “I wasn’t trying to condescend, Jeremy. I was trying to have a discussion. History is history. We can’t ignore the facts just because they’re uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, but there’s a way to do it,” Jeremy shot back. “And what you did back there wasn’t it. You can’t just walk into someone’s home and start picking apart everything they believe in. It’s disrespectful.”

Calvin opened his mouth to respond, but Jeremy wasn’t finished. “You think tensions are gone just because the war ended twenty years ago? They’re not. People here still feel it every day. You heard Lenny—he’s proud of where he’s from. And you just walked all over that, like your perspective is the only one that matters.”

Calvin’s face flushed with anger, but beneath it, he felt a twinge of guilt. “I wasn’t trying to offend him, Jeremy. I was just—”

“Trying to be right,” Jeremy interrupted, his voice softer now but still firm. “You always do this, Cal. You get so caught up in being right that you forget there’s more at stake than just winning an argument. You’re not in the Federal States anymore. You’re in the South, where people’s pride in their identity runs deep. You’ve got to respect that, even if you don’t agree with it.”

There was a heavy silence in the SUV as Calvin stared at the floor, his mind racing. He knew Jeremy had a point, even if it stung to admit it. The tension from the shop had followed them out into the street, and now it clung to the group like a heavy fog.

Emmaline, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up, her voice gentle but firm. “Cal, Jeremy’s right. We’re guests here. We need to be mindful of how we talk about these things. It’s not about who’s right or wrong—it’s about showing respect.”

Calvin sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I didn’t mean to disrespect him. I just… I guess I didn’t think about how it would come across.”

Jeremy nodded, his anger cooling as he saw the frustration in Calvin’s expression. “Look, man, I get it. You’re passionate about this stuff. But sometimes, it’s better to just listen. People here have their reasons for feeling the way they do, just like you have yours. And if we’re gonna make it through this trip without pissing off half the South, we’ve got to remember that.”

Calvin nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Yeah… I get it. I’ll be more careful.”

“Good,” Jeremy said, his tone softening. “Because the last thing we need is to end up in a fight with a bunch of locals. Let’s just enjoy the rest of the trip, alright?”

Calvin managed a small, rueful smile. “Yeah, alright. I’ll try to keep my opinions to myself.”

The group settled back into a more comfortable silence as they prepared to hit the road again, and Calvin knew he had some thinking to do, but for now, he was content to let it go and focus on the days ahead.

As the SUV pulled out of Cedar Hollow, the mountains loomed in the distance, a reminder that their journey was just beginning.

Zack, who had been quietly listening from the back seat, suddenly piped up, raising his hand, “If it helps, I’ve had a black girlfriend too.”

The group burst into laughter, the lighthearted comment cutting through the lingering tension and bringing a sense of camaraderie back to the car. Even Calvin couldn’t help but chuckle, the mood lifting as they continued their drive deeper into the Ozarks.

Chapter 4: The Ascent

The tensions that had clouded the group earlier seemed to dissipate like the morning due as they left Cedar Hollow behind and continued their journey up the winding mountain roads. The atmosphere inside the SUV had shifted, with the burden of the argument between Calvin and Lenny forgotten in favor of the more pressing excitement and music that came from Turner’s 1990s playlist that was blaring through the speakers.

Jeremy, who had been the voice of reason during the argument, was now back to his usual self, cracking jokes and keeping the energy high. “Alright, who’s ready to conquer this mountain?” he called out, throwing a playful grin over his shoulder as he drove.

Rosie, seated next to him, laughed and shook her head. “Conquer? More like get lost trying to find the cabins.”

Turner, who had been quiet for most of the trip, surprised everyone by chiming in with a rare joke of his own. “Don’t worry, Rosie, if we get lost, Jeremy will just challenge the mountain to a wrestling match.”

The group erupted in laughter, as Felicia began, “Hey, speaking of wrestling,” her voice carrying a mischievous tone, “remember that time Jeremy tried to show off his ‘skills’ and ended up flipping himself instead of the other guy?”

Jeremy groaned, but the grin on his face betrayed his amusement. “I maintain that was a tactical maneuver. I was testing his reflexes.”

“Sure you were,” Calvin teased from the passenger seat, his earlier frustration completely dissolved. “Just like you’re testing this SUV’s suspension on these turns.”

Jeremy shot Calvin a mock glare, but there was no heat behind it. “Hey, if you think you can do better, feel free to take the wheel.”

Calvin held up his hands in surrender. “Nah, I’m good. I’d rather live to see the cabin.”

Rosie, ever the optimist, leaned forward and playfully ruffled Calvin’s hair. “Don’t worry, Cal, I’m sure you’ll make it. And if you don’t, at least you’ll have some good stories to tell in the afterlife.”

Turner, still riding the wave of his earlier joke, added, “Yeah, like the time you almost got us all kicked out of Cedar Hollow.”

An awkward silence followed Turner’s comment, the easy laughter from moments before fading into an uncomfortable pause. Rosie offered a polite, albeit forced, chuckle, while Calvin just gave a tight-lipped smile, not really sure how to respond. Jeremy glanced at Turner in the rearview mirror, his expression neutral, while Felicia shifted in her seat, suddenly very interested in the view outside the window.

Emmaline, sensing the tension, quickly jumped in to smooth things over. “Well, as long as we all make it to the cabins in one piece, I think we can call it a success,” she said with a warm smile, her tone light and reassuring.

Zack, picking up on Emmaline’s cue, added, “So, Jeremy, how much longer until we reach the top? Or are you planning to turn this into an impromptu camping trip?”

Jeremy flashed Zack a grin through the rearview mirror, grateful for the shift in conversation. “Don’t tempt me, Zack. I might just pull over and make us hike the rest of the way.”

Felicia gasped in mock horror, the light-hearted banter returning. “No way! I did not sign up for a death march. This is supposed to be a relaxing getaway, not a boot camp.”

Emmaline laughed softly, giving Turner a quick, understanding glance, before turning back to the group. “Don’t worry, guys. I promise, no death marches. We’re almost there.”

Rosie chimed in, “Relax, Felicia. Worst case scenario, we just make Jeremy carry all the gear. He’s the one who’s always bragging about his strength, right?”

Turner added with a smirk, “Y-yeah, Jeremy. You’ve been working out, haven’t you? Should be no problem for you.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, alright, you win. I’ll get us there in one piece. Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”

The group settled into a comfortable rhythm, the banter flowing easily as they continued their ascent. The higher they climbed, the more the temperature dropped, the cool mountain air seeping through the windows. The sun was beginning to dip toward the horizon, casting long shadows across the road and painting the landscape in hues of orange and pink.

Zack found himself gazing out the window, watching as the trees seemed to stretch endlessly toward the sky. There was a sense of peace here, far removed from the hustle and bustle of their everyday lives. For a moment, he allowed himself to simply enjoy the beauty of it all, the laughter of his friends in the background serving as the perfect soundtrack to this moment of serenity.

Rosie, noticing Zack’s quiet reflection, turned in her seat to smile at him. “Pretty amazing, isn’t it?”

Zack nodded, his eyes still on the scenery. “Yeah, it really is. I can see why Emmaline was so excited about this trip.”

Turner, who had also been gazing out at the landscape, added, “It’s like a whole different world up here. Makes you forget about everything else for a while.”

Jeremy, keeping his focus on the road, quipped, “As long as we don’t forget where we’re going. I’m not in the mood to spend the night in the car.”

Felicia leaned forward, her voice filled with mock seriousness. “Well, if we do get lost, at least we’ve got enough snacks to survive for a few days. And by snacks, I mean the emergency chocolate stash I brought.”

Calvin grinned. “Emergency chocolate? Why am I only hearing about this now?”

“Because it’s for emergencies, Calvin,” Felicia replied with a wink. “And getting lost in the mountains definitely counts.”

More laughter filled the car as they continued their journey, the last rays of sunlight filtering through the trees. The road had become a narrow, winding path, hugging the side of the mountain as it climbed ever higher. Despite the challenging drive, Jeremy handled the SUV with ease, the earlier concerns about the vehicle forgotten in the excitement of the trip.

As the sky darkened and the first stars began to appear, the group fell into a comfortable silence, each of them lost in their thoughts. The banter had served its purpose, easing the tension and reminding them all why they were here—One last hurrah before they all go their separate ways, with Emmaline,Turner, Rosie, Calvin, and Felicia all heading off to different colleges soon, leaving Zack and Jeremy behind in Rockford, Illinois.

Rosie, who had been humming softly to herself, broke the silence with a contented sigh. “This is exactly what we needed. Just us, the mountains, and no distractions.”

Turner nodded in agreement, his usual quiet demeanor now tinged with a sense of peace. “Yeah, it feels like we’re finally leaving everything behind.”

Jeremy glanced at Rosie with a smile. “Well, we’re almost there. Just a little further and we’ll be at the cabins. Then it’s nothing but fresh air, campfires, and maybe a little bit of adventure.”

Calvin leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes with a smile. “Sounds perfect to me.”

As they rounded a bend in the road, Jeremy slowed the SUV, pointing toward a small, rustic shop nestled among the trees. The sign above the door read “Humphry’s Gear & More.”

“Let’s make a quick stop here,” Jeremy suggested, pulling into the gravel parking lot. “We’re getting close, but it wouldn’t hurt to grab some extra supplies. You know, just in case.”

The group agreed, and piling out of the SUV, stretching their legs as they approached the shop. The air was crisp and cool, carrying the scent of pine and earth, a reminder that they were deep in the heart of the mountains now.

The shop’s exterior was weathered and worn, with a porch lined with old wooden rocking chairs and a display of hiking boots, lanterns, and other outdoor essentials. A faded American flag hung near the entrance, fluttering gently in the breeze.

Inside, the shop was a treasure trove of camping and survival gear. Shelves were stocked with everything from flashlights and first-aid kits to bear repellent and dehydrated meals. The walls were adorned with mounted animal heads and framed maps of the surrounding wilderness.

The shopkeeper, an older man with a bushy white beard and a flannel shirt, looked up from behind the counter as they entered. His sharp eyes, a contrast to his grizzled appearance, took in the group with a nod. “Afternoon, folks. Lookin’ for anything in particular?”

“Just grabbing a few last-minute things,” Emmaline replied with a friendly smile. “We’re heading up to Pine Ridge Cabins for the week.”

M. Mumphry, as his name tag read, let out a low chuckle. “Ah, Pine Ridge, eh? Beautiful spot, but y’all best be prepared. Weather can change fast up there, and the nights get real cold. Cold enough to make ya question yer life choices. And don’t forget ‘bout the wildlife. Bears and cougars tend to wander ‘round those parts, especially this time of year.”

Jeremy was already browsing the shelves, picking up a few items. “Good to know. We’ve got most of what we need, but it never hurts to have a little extra.”

Zack wandered over to a display of survival knives, his fingers brushing over the handles. “Do we really need all this stuff?” he asked, half-jokingly, but with a hint of genuine curiosity.

Calvin, who was examining a rack of emergency blankets, glanced over. “Better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it. Besides, you never know what could happen out there. Nature’s unpredictable.”

Felicia picked up a canister of bear spray, reading the label with a raised eyebrow. “Are there really bears up here?”

Mumphry’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he leaned forward on the counter. “Oh, we’ve got bears, alright. Big ones. They don’t usually bother folks, long as you don’t bother them, but it’s always good to be prepared. Better safe than sorry, like the sayin’ goes.”

Before anyone could respond, the door to the back storage room swung open with a loud bang, startling everyone. A middle-aged man, balding on the top but with fluffy hair cascading down to his shoulders, stomped through the doorway carrying a large box of supplies. His entrance was accompanied by the muffled sound of classic rock music from the 1970s and 1980s blaring from a small radio in the back. He was heavyset, with a friendly but slightly eerie grin on his face as he noticed the group.

“Wyatt!” Mumphry barked, his voice sharp. “Mind yer noise and get back to work.”

Wyatt nodded quickly, muttering an apology as he shuffled to the shelves to restock supplies, sneaking a glance at the group as he passed. His eyes widened when they landed on Felicia’s rainbow-colored hair, but one stern look from Jeremy sent him hurrying on his way.

“Don’t mind him,” Mumphry said gruffly. “He’s harmless, just a bit too curious for his own good sometimes. Likes to think he knows everything ‘bout these mountains.”

Turner, not missing the chance for a callback, grinned and said, “So, any tips on dealing with the Ozark Black Howler, or is it just the usual bears and cougars we should watch out for?”

Wyatt, who was within earshot, perked up at the mention of the legends. “Y’all headin’ up into the hills, huh? Adventure, huh? Well, y’all picked the right place. The Ozarks got plenty of that. But lemme tell ya, it ain’t just the pretty scenery you gotta watch out for.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “There’s critters out there that’ll give ya more than just a scare. Bears, pant’ers, hawgs, them’s the usual suspects. But then there’s the Black Howler and the Goatmen.”

Felicia rolled her eyes playfully, but Wyatt’s intensity seemed to catch the group off guard. He continued, undeterred. “Well, seems like yer friend here knows a thing or two. The Black Howler’s been spookin’ folks ‘round these parts for generations. Big ol’ creature, bigger than any bear, with eyes that burn like coals. Some folks think it’s a spirit, others reckon it’s somethin’ else entirely.”

Jeremy, noticing Wyatt’s lingering gaze on Felicia, stepped forward, his tone turning cold. “Something catch your eye, buddy?”

Wyatt, startled by the sudden shift in Jeremy’s demeanor, stammered, “Uh, no, sir. Just… was admirin’ her hair, is all. Ain’t meanin’ no disrespect.”

Jeremy didn’t back down, his eyes narrowing. “You sure about that? ‘Cause it seems like you’re more interested in staring than talking.”

Wyatt, sensing the tension, quickly raised his hands in a placating gesture. “No harm meant, I swear. Just sharin’ a bit of local lore, tryin’ to be helpful, y’know?”

Before the situation could escalate further, Calvin cut in with a sharp tone, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Yeah, Jeremy, let’s all calm down. I’m sure Wyatt here is just trying to make sure we’re properly spooked before we head into the great unknown. Isn’t that right, Wyatt?”

Wyatt nodded quickly, eager to defuse the tension. “That’s right, just sharin’ what I know. These parts got their stories, and I reckon it don’t hurt to be aware. And ‘bout them Goatmen—old Mathew here, he’s been known to have killed one back in his day.”

Mumphry scoffed, waving off Wyatt’s comment with a dismissive hand. “Don’t be fillin’ their heads with nonsense, Wyatt. Ain’t nobody killin’ no Goatman. It’s just stories folks tell ‘round the campfire to keep the kids from wanderin’ off into the woods.”

But Jeremy wasn’t satisfied, his posture still tense as he stared down Wyatt. “Yeah? Well, maybe you should keep your stories to yourself.”

Wyatt took a cautious step back, clearly unnerved by Jeremy’s intensity. “Sure thing, no problem,” he mumbled, his eyes flicking to Mumphry for support.

But instead of calming the situation, Mumphry’s expression hardened. He leaned forward, his eyes locking onto Jeremy with the kind of piercing gaze that only a seasoned drill sergeant could muster. “You listen here, boy,” he began, his voice low and gravelly but filled with authority. “I don’t know what kind of macho nonsense you’re tryin’ to pull, but I suggest you drop it. Wyatt here ain’t done nothin’ but try to be friendly, and you’re actin’ like a damn fool.”

Jeremy stiffened, not used to being spoken to like that. “I don’t need some old man telling me how to act,” he shot back, his voice laced with defiance.

Mumphry’s eyes narrowed, his tone turning icy. “Old man, huh? Let me tell you somethin’, son—this ‘old man’ has seen more, done more, and forgotten more than you’ll ever know. You think puffin’ up your chest and throwin’ around attitude makes you tough? I’ve dealt with tougher than you in my sleep.”

Calvin, sensing the situation spiraling, tried to step in. “Look, there’s no need for this to escalate. We’re just trying to buy some supplies and be on our way.”

Mumphry’s gaze shifted to Calvin, and his voice didn’t soften. “You think I’m lookin’ for a fight, kid? I’m just callin’ out bullshit when I see it. And right now, I see a couple of young punks who think they can walk into my shop and start somethin’ over nothin’. You best check your ego at the door next time.”

Jeremy, his frustration boiling over, took a step closer, but Mumphry didn’t budge, his stance as solid as a rock. “You really think you’re intimidatin’ anyone with that tough guy act? I’ve stared down men twice your size with a lot more guts and brains. So why don’t you do yourself a favor and shut your mouth before you say somethin’ you’ll regret?”

The shop fell into an uneasy silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Zack and Felicia exchanged nervous glances, unsure of how to defuse the situation, while Turner shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

Jeremy’s hands balled into fists, but he hesitated, clearly torn between backing down and standing his ground. Calvin, sensing that Jeremy was close to doing something stupid, put a firm hand on his shoulder. “Jeremy, let it go. This isn’t worth it.”

Mumphry, seeing that his words had finally hit home, straightened up, his expression less severe but still unyielding. “That’s right. Let it go. Y’all came here to get supplies for your little trip, so why don’t you do that and leave the tough talk for someone who cares.”

Jeremy’s face was flushed with anger, but he took a step back, glaring at Mumphry before turning away. Calvin, his own frustration simmering, nodded curtly at the older man. “We’ll take our stuff and go.”

Mumphry watched them with a critical eye as Turner quickly moved to the counter to pay for the items. His tone was still firm as he addressed the group. “Y’all best remember that the mountains don’t care ‘bout your pride or your attitude. They’ll humble you real quick if you’re not careful. So watch yourselves up there.”

As Turner handed over the money, he hesitated for a moment, then blurted out, “So, uh… if your name’s Mumphry with an M, why’s it spelled Humphry with an H on the sign out front?”

Mumphry’s stern expression softened for just a second, a hint of a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’s a bad joke,” he said gruffly, his voice still holding that drill sergeant edge. “One of them ‘humble pie’ lessons. Figured it’d keep folks wonderin’. Now, if y’all are done, get on outta here.”

As they reached the SUV, Emmaline let out a long breath, clearly relieved to be out of the shop. “Let’s just get going. The sooner we get to the cabins, the better.”

Rosie, trying to lighten the mood, forced a laugh. “Yeah, no more run-ins with grumpy old men, okay?”

Jeremy, still fuming, muttered under his breath as he climbed into the SUV. “Grumpy old man, my ass.”

Turner, eager to move past the incident, chimed in with forced enthusiasm. “So, ghost hunting, huh? Maybe we’ll find our own Goatman up here.”

Jeremy gave a half-hearted chuckle, his aggression slowly decaying into frustration. “Yeah, well, if we do, at least we know who to ask for advice.”

Rosie laughed, though there was an edge to it. “Let’s just hope it’s all stories and not actual monsters. I’m not ready to star in a horror movie just yet.

Felicia, leaned back in her seat. “I mean, if we do see a Goatman, I’m definitely getting a selfie with it.”

As the SUV pulled away from the shop, the group settled into an uneasy silence, the confrontation still fresh in their minds. The mountains loomed closer in the distance, their peaks shrouded in mist, a reminder of the unpredictable adventure that lay ahead.

Zack stared out the window, his mind replaying the events at the shop. The landscape outside had grown wilder, the trees thicker and darker as they climbed higher into the mountains. The dense forest seemed to press in on them from all sides, the tall pines casting long shadows across the road.

His gaze drifted to the side of the road, where something caught his eye—a brief movement in the underbrush, a dark shape slipping between the trees. Zack squinted, trying to make out what it was, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. A chill ran down his spine, a strange, inexplicable feeling that they were being watched.

He shook his head, telling himself it was just his imagination, a trick of the light or maybe a deer. But the unease lingered, gnawing at the back of his mind.

Emmaline, who had taken the wheel again, broke the silence. “We’re almost there,” she announced, her voice steady but tinged with a hint of anticipation. The others seemed relieved, eager to put the day’s tension behind them.

As the SUV rounded a final bend, the cabins came into view, nestled in a clearing surrounded by towering trees. The sight should have been a welcome one, but for Zack, the eerie feeling from earlier still clung to him, a nagging sense of unease that he couldn’t shake.

They pulled up to the cabins, the vehicle coming to a stop on the gravel driveway. The group began to stir, the tension easing slightly as they prepared to unpack and settle in. But as Zack stepped out of the SUV, he couldn’t help but glance back at the darkened woods, half-expecting to see that shadowy figure again.

The forest remained still and silent, but the feeling that something—or someone—was watching them stayed with him, a quiet, unsettling presence in the back of his mind as they finally arrived at their destination.

Chapter 01: Landing at the Regional

Turner looked up slowly, his eyes taking a moment to focus on Zack. Recognition flickered across his face, but instead of a smile, there was just a small, almost imperceptible nod. He stuffed his phone into his pocket, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as Zack approached.

“Uh, hey, Zack,” Turner mumbled, his gaze flickering around the terminal before landing back on Zack. “Didn’t… uh, didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeah, um… yeah,” Zack replied, awkwardly adjusting the strap of his backpack. “The flight… it was, uh, it was alright, I guess. Woke up… kinda scared when we landed. Didn’t, um… didn’t sleep much.”

Turner nodded again, the silence between them growing thick. “Yeah, I, um… yeah, that happens. Sometimes.”

What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I just have a normal conversation? Zack’s thoughts raced as he tried to think of something to say, something that wouldn’t make him seem so awkward. He shuffled his feet, unsure of what to say next. He glanced at Turner, who was staring off to the side, his mouth slightly open as if trying to find the right words. The pause stretched on, both of them caught in the uncomfortable quiet.

Finally, Turner cleared his throat. “The, uh… the others are in the food court,” he said, almost too softly. “Emmaline… she’s, um, really excited. About the trip. I think.”

Zack nodded, managing a small, tight-lipped smile. “Yeah… she’s been… she’s been talking about it a lot. She… uh, she can’t wait to get to the cabins. Surprised… she hasn’t already dragged us all there!” He forced a laugh, but it came out louder and more forced than he intended.

Turner’s lips twitched, not quite a smile. “Yeah. She’s… excited.” He hesitated, then added, “Do… do you want to… get some food? Before we go?”

“Uh, sure,” Zack said, nodding a bit too quickly. “Yeah, that… that sounds good. I’m… kinda hungry.”

“Okay,” Turner replied, his voice barely above a murmur. “Let’s… go, then,” he said, pointing a pair of finger guns to his left, towards the food court.

They started walking side by side, the space between them filled with the hum of the terminal and the quiet shuffle of their footsteps. Neither spoke, both too wrapped up in their own thoughts, unsure of how to bridge the silence. Turner’s hands fidgeted in his pockets, while Zack kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, occasionally stealing glances at the people passing by, as if searching for something to say.

I should say something. Anything. But what if it sounds stupid? What if he thinks I’m weird? Zack’s anxiety gnawed at him, making the silence between them feel even more oppressive.

As they neared the food court, the sound of laughter and conversation grew louder, offering a welcome distraction from the awkwardness hanging between them. Zack spotted the rest of the group sitting at a large table, their animated chatter a stark contrast to the quiet tension he and Turner shared.

Emmaline noticed them first, waving them over with a bright smile. “There you guys are! We were starting to wonder when you’d show up.”

Turner and Zack exchanged a quick glance, both of them relieved to be in the presence of others. The awkwardness between them began to dissolve as they joined the group, the noise and energy of the food court offering a much-needed escape from their stilted conversation.

The smell of fast food, coffee, and fried snacks filled the air as they approached, and Zack’s stomach growled in response. The food court was a bustling hub of activity, with travelers seated at small tables, chatting and eating as they waited for their next flight or journey.

As Zack and Turner approached the table, the conversation between the group grew clearer. Calvin, as usual, was in the middle of an animated explanation, his voice carrying over the general din of the food court. But today, there was a noticeable edge to his tone, a hint of frustration that colored his words.

“—and you see, lobsters used to be so plentiful that they were considered the poor man’s food. They’d feed them to prisoners, slaves, even use them as fertilizer for crops. It was only when they started marketing them as a delicacy in the 19th century that the price skyrocketed.”

The waiter, a young man with a thick Southern drawl, stood beside the table, clearly less than interested in Calvin’s history lesson. He glanced at his notepad, then back at Calvin with a polite but strained smile.

“Uh-huh, that’s real interesting, sir. But I was just lettin’ y’all know that the seafood soup is the special this week,” the waiter said, his voice flat with barely disguised impatience.

Rosie, sitting beside Calvin, covered a smile with her hand, but there was a tightness to it, as if she were holding something back. Felicia and Jeremy exchanged a look, the corners of their mouths twitching with amusement, but there was a subtle tension between them, a sense that something unsaid was simmering beneath the surface. Jeremy leaned over to Felicia, his voice just loud enough for the others to hear.

“You think he’d order a history lesson if it was on the menu?” Jeremy whispered, a mischievous glint in his eye. But there was something possessive in the way he hovered close to Felicia, as if marking his territory.

Felicia snorted, nudging him with her elbow. “Only if it came with a side of useless trivia,” she teased, her tone affectionate but edging on biting. Her laugh was light, but her laugh was light, but her eyes darted nervously toward Jeremy, gauging his reaction. She was careful not to push too far, the dynamic between them fraught with an unspoken tension. It was as though she was constantly walking on eggshells, trying to maintain the balance between playful banter and something darker.

“Better than ordering more burnt jokes,” Calvin shot back, rolling his eyes as he noticed Zack and Turner approaching. His voice carried an undercurrent of irritation, as if he were struggling to keep his emotions in check. He was always the one with the quick wit, the one who could steer the conversation with ease, but today there was a brittle edge to his words. “Hey, you guys made it. We were just getting started on some dinner before heading out.”

Emmaline waved them over to the empty seats, her smile as warm as ever, though there was a slight tension in her eyes, a worry that seemed to linger just beneath the surface. “Come on, sit down. We’re just about to order. Turner, Zack, what do you guys want?”

Zack and Turner exchanged another glance, both relieved to be out of their awkward bubble. Zack was the first to speak up, his voice a bit tentative. “Uh, just… I’ll have whatever’s easy. Maybe a burger?”

“I’ll do the same,” Turner added quietly, still looking slightly out of place among the more boisterous group. There was a flicker of discomfort in his eyes, as if he was trying to blend in, to find his place in the group dynamic without drawing too much attention to himself.

The waiter nodded, jotting down their orders before heading off, leaving the group to resume their conversation. Calvin, now diverted from his history tangent, turned his attention to Emmaline, his tone lighter but still carrying a trace of underlying stress.

“So, what’s the plan once we get to the cabins? You’ve got us doing a whole itinerary, right?”

Emmaline laughed, shaking her head. “Relax, Calvin. We’ve got plenty of time to figure it out. Let’s get our gear tonight and stay at the bed n’ breakfast, and we’ll think about everything up the mountain tomorrow. We have a full week.” She spoke with her usual authority, but there was a hint of desperation in her voice, a need to keep everything under control, to make sure everyone was happy and the trip went smoothly.

Felicia leaned back in her chair, her arm casually draped over Jeremy’s shoulders. “Sounds good to me. As long as there’s a hot tub somewhere, I’m in.” Her voice was light, but there was an edge of weariness to her, as if the constant need to keep Jeremy’s temper in check was beginning to take its toll.

“Or a cold lake,” Jeremy added with a grin, his arm tightening around Felicia’s shoulders in a possessive gesture. “Nothing like a swim to wake you up after a long drive.”

Rosie, always the peacekeeper, chimed in, her voice soft but firm. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty to do. It’s all about enjoying the time together, right?” Her words were laced with an almost desperate optimism, a need to smooth over any rough edges and keep the group united, even as she felt the weight of her own anxieties pressing down on her.

Zack nodded, listening to the easy banter between his sister’s friends. He felt the tension from earlier slowly slipping away, replaced by the anticipation of the days ahead. Turner, beside him, seemed more at ease too, though he remained mostly silent, content to listen rather than contribute.

As they waited for their food, the conversation ebbed and flowed, with Calvin and Jeremy trading barbs while Felicia and Rosie tried to keep the peace. Emmaline, ever the organizer, made a few more notes on her phone, her mind clearly working a mile a minute to ensure that everything went according to plan. But beneath the surface, each of them carried their own burdens, their own doubts and insecurities that threatened to bubble up at any moment.

Turner’s eyes flitted nervously between the others, his fingers drumming a silent rhythm on the table as he tried to read the room. He often felt like an outsider, someone who had to work twice as hard to fit in, and the pressure was beginning to weigh on him. He wanted to contribute, to feel like he belonged, but the fear of saying the wrong thing kept him quiet.

Zack, meanwhile, found himself caught between wanting to engage and the gnawing anxiety that made him second-guess every word. He glanced at Calvin, who seemed to be handling the conversation with ease, but Zack knew better. He could see the way Calvin’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, the way his laughter had a slightly forced quality to it. It was the same kind of mask Zack had learned to wear when the world felt too overwhelming.

Emmaline’s phone buzzed on the table, pulling her attention away from the conversation. She glanced at the screen, her brow furrowing slightly as she read the message. Whatever it was, it seemed to add to the weight she was already carrying, though she quickly plastered a smile back on her face when she noticed the others watching her.

“Everything okay?” Rosie asked, her tone gentle.

“Yeah, just… a work thing,” Emmaline replied, slipping her phone back into her pocket. “Nothing to worry about. Let’s just focus on the trip, okay?”

The others nodded, though the unspoken tension lingered in the air. They all knew Emmaline had a habit of overloading herself, of taking on too much and pushing herself to the breaking point. But none of them wanted to press the issue, not wanting to add to her stress.

Their food arrived shortly after, and the group fell into a comfortable silence as they ate, each lost in their own thoughts. The noise of the food court provided a welcome distraction, a background hum that allowed them to momentarily forget the weight of their own worries.

As they finished their meal and gathered their things to head out, Calvin made one last attempt to lighten the mood, a forced grin on his face. “Alright, folks, let’s hit the road and get this adventure started. Who’s ready to wrestle a Goatman?”

Jeremy chuckled, but there was a hint of something darker in his eyes, a possessiveness that hadn’t quite been satisfied by the earlier banter. “As long as I get to wrestle him first, I’m in.”

Felicia rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t hide the slight tension in her smile. “You boys and your macho posturing,” she teased, but there was an edge to her voice, a hint of something unspoken.
Rosie, sensing the undercurrent of tension, quickly jumped in. “Come on, let’s just get going before we end up scaring ourselves out of the trip.”

Turner nodded, grateful for the distraction. “Yeah, let’s go. The sooner we get to the cabins, the better.”

Zack followed the group out of the food court, his mind still buzzing with the quiet anxieties that had been simmering beneath the surface all day. As they made their way to the rental SUV, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this trip was going to be more complicated than he had anticipated.

As they loaded their bags into the back of the SUV, Emmaline took the driver’s seat, her hands gripping the wheel a little too tightly. She glanced at the group in the rearview mirror, her voice steady but with a hint of determination. “Alright, everyone ready? Let’s get this show on the road.”

A chorus of affirmations filled the car, and with that, Emmaline pulled out of the parking lot and onto the open road. The SUV rolled smoothly along the highway, its engine humming with a surprising ease. The setting sun cast long shadows across the interior as the group settled in for the drive ahead, each of them carrying their own worries, their own fears, and their own secrets.

The scenery outside shifted from the concrete and steel of the airport to the rolling hills and dense forests of the Ozarks. The first leg of the journey was filled with the usual road trip chatter—reminiscing about old memories, joking about the reliability of their vehicle, and speculating about what awaited them in Cedar Hollow.

But beneath the surface, the tension simmered, an unspoken weight that none of them could quite shake. Each of them carried their own burdens, their own fears and insecurities that threatened to bubble up at any moment. And as the SUV climbed higher into the mountains, the air grew colder, the road narrower, the sense of foreboding thicker with each passing mile.

Zack stared out the window, watching as the trees seemed to stretch endlessly toward the sky. There was a sense of peace here, far removed from the hustle and bustle of their everyday lives. But there was also something else, something darker that lurked just beyond the edge of the forest, something that whispered of secrets and shadows waiting to be uncovered.

He glanced at the others, each lost in their own thoughts, each with their own demons to face. This trip was supposed to be a getaway, a chance to escape the pressures of their lives. But Zack couldn’t shake the feeling that they were heading straight into something far more complicated, something that would force them to confront not just the dangers of the wilderness, but the darkness within themselves as well.

Chapter 2: Willow’s Rest

The group stood outside Willow’s Rest Bed & Breakfast, a charming, ivy-covered building that looked as though it had been plucked straight from a postcard. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the cobblestone path leading up to the entrance, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the old oak trees that dotted the property. The group had stopped here for a quick break before continuing their journey to the cabins, and the peaceful setting seemed to put everyone in a reflective mood.

As Zack followed the others up the path, he couldn’t help but notice how the weight of their earlier conversation still lingered. There was a tension in the way they walked, a heaviness in their silence. Each of them seemed to be wrestling with something, their thoughts inward, their gazes distant. Zack could sense it, like a dark cloud hanging over them, but he wasn’t sure how to break through it.

Calvin was in the middle of recounting the local lore as they gathered around, waiting for Emmaline to finish checking in with the proprietor. His voice was animated, but there was a sharpness to his words, a barely contained edge that betrayed the frustration simmering beneath the surface. Zack recognized that tone—Calvin was trying to distract himself, to channel his anxiety into something that felt productive, but it was clear that the strain was getting to him.

“So, Zack,” Calvin began, his tone a blend of excitement and earnestness that didn’t quite match the tension in his posture, “did you know that Cedar Hollow, the town we’re heading to, has a pretty rich and somewhat eerie history?”

Zack raised an eyebrow, curious despite himself. “Eerie how?”

“Well,” Calvin said, adjusting his glasses with a slight twitch, “back in the late 1800s, there was this hermit named Grimsby—Old Man Grimsby, they called him. He lived way up in the mountains, away from everyone else, and folks said he was a bit… strange. He claimed to have visions, prophecies, about the town’s future. Specifically, he said that Cedar Hollow would one day play a crucial role in the battle between good and evil.”

Felicia, who had been idly picking at the leaves of a nearby shrub, smirked. “Sounds like someone spent too much time alone in the woods.” Her tone was light, but Zack noticed the way her fingers fidgeted with the leaves, tearing them into small pieces as she spoke. It was a subtle sign of her anxiety, a habit Zack had picked up on over the years. She used humor to deflect, to keep things light, but underneath it all, there was a tension that she couldn’t quite shake.

Calvin chuckled, unfazed. “Maybe, but here’s the interesting part. Fast forward to the Confederate States War in 2025, Cedar Hollow actually did become pretty important—it served as a major hospital location for the troops. It was one of the few places that remained standing after the initial bombings, and they used it to treat a lot of the wounded.”

Zack tilted his head, intrigued. “So you’re saying the hermit was onto something?”

“Exactly,” Calvin replied, his eyes lighting up, though his smile was tight, almost forced. “It’s just… interesting, you know? How this obscure little town ended up playing such a significant role in recent history. It’s like there’s something about Cedar Hollow that draws these big events to it, something almost… predestined.”

Jeremy, who had been leaning against the side of the bed and breakfast, rolled his eyes and grinned, though there was a possessive edge to the way he kept his arm draped around Felicia’s shoulders. “Yeah, yeah, sure. And I bet you think there are Goatmen roaming the woods too, huh, Calvin?”

Rosie laughed, nudging Calvin playfully. “Careful, he might start quoting more local legends at you.” Her voice was bright, but Zack could see the tension in her eyes, the way she glanced at the others as if making sure everyone was still on the same page. Rosie was the glue that held them together, always smoothing over conflicts, always making sure everyone was okay, but it was clear that the strain was beginning to show.

Calvin shook his head, grinning back, though there was a hint of defensiveness in his tone. “I’m just saying, the place has a history. And for the record, the Goatmen are just folklore. But the Ozark Black Howler, on the other hand…”

“Oh no,” Felicia groaned, “here we go.” She leaned into Jeremy slightly as she spoke, almost as if seeking his approval, his protection. Zack noticed the way Jeremy’s grip on her shoulder tightened just a fraction, a possessive gesture that didn’t go unnoticed.

“The Ozark Black Howler is another one of those local legends,” Calvin continued, ignoring the groans of the group. “Supposedly, it’s this massive, black-furred beast with glowing red eyes that roams the mountains. The early settlers and the indigenous tribes both had stories about it—something about it being a guardian spirit, or maybe a demon, depending on who you ask. People still claim to hear its howls echoing through the valleys at night.”

Zack smirked, trying to hide his growing interest. “You believe in that too?”

Calvin shrugged, a playful twinkle in his eye, though his shoulders were still tense, his posture stiff. “I think it’s fascinating, whether it’s true or not. There’s always some truth buried in legends, even if it’s just about the fears or beliefs of the people who tell them.”

Jeremy smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief, though his arm remained firmly around Felicia. “If we run into a Goatman, I say we hunt it down. Wouldn’t mind mounting that on the wall as a trophy.”

His bold statement was met with a mix of groans and laughter from the group, but Zack noticed the way Felicia stiffened slightly at Jeremy’s words, her smile faltering for just a moment before she forced it back into place. Zack felt a pang of unease, recognizing the familiar pattern of someone trying too hard to keep up appearances.

Before anyone could respond, a nearby local, a middle-aged man with a scruffy beard and a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, let out a loud, derisive laugh.

“You kids really believe in that Goatman nonsense?” the man asked, his voice dripping with amusement. “Ain’t nothin’ out there but trees and shadows. Folks around here love spinnin’ yarns to spook the tourists. You’d have better luck huntin’ rabbits.”

The group turned to face the man, their curiosity piqued. Calvin opened his mouth to reply, but the man cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Don’t waste your time chasin’ after old wives’ tales,” the man continued, shaking his head. “You’ll be out in those woods all night, and the only thing you’ll catch is a cold. Cedar Hollow’s a nice enough place, but it ain’t got no monsters, no matter what the old folks say.”

Jeremy grinned, undeterred, though Zack noticed the way his grip on Felicia tightened slightly. “Guess we’ll just have to find out for ourselves. Maybe the Goatmen are just shy.”

The local chuckled again, clearly enjoying the exchange. “You kids have fun with that. Just don’t go gettin’ lost out there. These mountains can be tricky if you don’t know your way.”

As the man walked off, the group exchanged amused glances, the lighthearted teasing adding a new layer of anticipation to their trip. But Zack couldn’t help but notice the way Felicia leaned into Jeremy, almost as if she were trying to reassure herself of something. It was a subtle gesture, but it spoke volumes.

Before the conversation could continue, Emmaline emerged from the bed and breakfast, her expression a mix of excitement and determination. There was a slight tightness around her eyes, a sign of the stress she was carrying, but she pushed it aside with a bright smile.

“Alright, I’ve got everything sorted,” she announced, catching everyone’s attention. “I booked us a couple of rooms for the night so we can rest up before heading out tomorrow. And I rented us a 2028 Narglatch SUV to take us up to the cabins.”

Jeremy’s face twisted into a look of disbelief, though there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “A Narglatch? Seriously? That thing’s almost 30 years old! Couldn’t we have gotten something a little more… I don’t know, modern?”

Emmaline sighed, clearly anticipating his reaction. “It was the only vehicle with four-wheel drive that could fit all of us and didn’t cost a fortune. Besides, it’s sturdy and reliable—just what we need for the mountain roads.”

“Sturdy, sure,” Jeremy muttered, crossing his arms. “As long as it doesn’t break down halfway up the mountain.” His tone was light, but there was an undercurrent of something darker, a hint of frustration that he didn’t quite manage to hide.

“It’ll get us where we need to go,” Emmaline insisted, her tone firm but patient. “Trust me, we’ll be glad to have it once we hit those rough trails. Plus, it’s part of the adventure, right?” There was a hint of desperation in her voice, as if she needed everyone to agree with her, to validate her decisions. Zack noticed the way she avoided direct eye contact with anyone, focusing instead on the SUV as if it were the key to holding everything together.

The others seemed to take Emmaline’s words to heart, and the grumbling subsided as they began gathering their bags and preparing to settle in for the night. The prospect of a good night’s sleep and a sturdy vehicle for the journey ahead helped to ease any lingering doubts.

Zack stretched lazily, the warmth of the cozy room making it difficult to leave the comfort of the bed. The early morning light filtered through the thin curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. With a sigh, he pushed himself upright, running a hand through his blue-dyed hair, which stuck up in every direction. The room still held the faint smell of cedar and fresh linens, a comforting reminder of where he was.

He dressed quickly and slipped out of the room, leaving the soft sound of Emmaline’s breathing behind him. The hallways of Willow’s Rest Bed & Breakfast were quiet, the floorboards creaking softly under his feet as he made his way toward the dining area. As he descended the stairs, the sounds of clinking dishes and muffled conversation grew louder, the warm scent of breakfast greeting him like an old friend.

The dining area was already bustling with activity. Several families, clearly tourists like themselves, were seated at the rustic wooden tables, enjoying plates of eggs, bacon, and fresh biscuits. The atmosphere was cheerful, filled with the hum of contented conversation and the occasional burst of laughter.

Zack spotted Jeremy at a table near the window, already halfway through his breakfast. When Jeremy saw Zack, he raised his glass of orange juice in a mock toast, grinning widely. But there was something possessive in the way he immediately shifted closer to Felicia, who was seated beside him, almost as if staking a claim.

“Happy you made it,” Jeremy called out, his tone light and teasing, but Zack didn’t miss the way Jeremy’s hand rested on the back of Felicia’s chair, his fingers tapping rhythmically as if marking his territory.

Zack couldn’t help but smile as he walked over and took a seat across from Jeremy. “Yeah, barely,” he replied, rubbing his eyes. “Felicia still asleep?”

“Out cold,” Jeremy said with a smirk, his arm draping casually around Felicia’s shoulders. She leaned into him slightly, her body language almost resigned, as if she was used to this kind of subtle possessiveness. “She’s not exactly a morning person. But that means more bacon for me.”

Zack chuckled and glanced around the table. Calvin sat next to Jeremy, his head propped up on one hand as he stared blankly at his plate. His usual energy was nowhere to be seen, and his responses to Jeremy’s occasional jabs were little more than grunts or half-hearted nods. Zack could tell that Calvin’s mind was still tangled in the events of the previous day, his thoughts likely racing with unresolved tension and anxiety.

Turner, however, was a different story. Sitting across from Calvin, he looked surprisingly lively, his eyes bright and a small, content smile on his face. He chatted animatedly, despite Calvin’s drowsy and somewhat rude responses, seemingly unbothered by the lack of engagement. There was a lightness to Turner’s demeanor, an ease that Zack found both comforting and slightly concerning, as if Turner was deliberately distancing himself from the weight of their collective unease.

Zack observed them for a moment, trying to reconcile this Turner with the quiet, awkward one he had known before. It was as if a switch had flipped overnight, and Turner was now radiating a warmth and energy that Zack hadn’t seen before. The contrast between the two of them—Turner’s upbeat demeanor and Calvin’s groggy grumpiness—was almost comical.

After a few moments of listening to Turner’s chatter about the day’s plans, Zack excused himself and made his way to the buffet line. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and warm syrup filled the air as he approached the spread of breakfast options. He grabbed a plate and started loading it with scrambled eggs, toast, and a few slices of freshly made waffles.

As he reached for a biscuit, a warm, drawling voice interrupted his thoughts. “Howdy, honey, welcome to the South.”

Zack looked up, surprised, and found himself face to face with an older woman who seemed to be staring him up and down. She had a friendly, almost flirtatious smile on her lips, and her thick Southern accent added a layer of charm to her words. Despite her age, she was still striking, with sharp features softened by a light touch of makeup and auburn hair styled in loose waves.

“Uh, hi,” Zack replied, a bit taken aback. “How did you know I wasn’t from around here?”

The woman’s smile widened, a playful glint in her eyes. “Oh, honey, it’s not that hard to tell. Most Southern boys don’t dye their hair blue.” She reached out and gently tugged at a lock of Zack’s hair, her touch light and teasing.

Zack felt his cheeks warm slightly. “Yeah, I guess that’s a bit of a giveaway.”

“Just a bit,” she drawled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “And let’s not forget that build of yours—slim, runner-like. Most boys your age down here are cornfed, got a little more meat on their bones. Stalkier, you know? Makes ‘em good for hauling hay and fixing up trucks.”

Zack laughed nervously, not entirely sure how to respond. “I guess I’m not cut out for farm work, then.”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short, sugar,” she said with a wink. “You’d do just fine down here. We might even make a Southern boy outta you yet.”

Zack grinned, relaxing a bit as he realized the woman’s teasing was all in good fun. “Maybe,” he replied, glancing at the food options. “So, what’s good here?”

“Oh, everything’s good,” she assured him. “But if you want a true taste of the South, don’t skip out on the grits. They’re creamy, buttery, and just right. And those biscuits? They’ll melt in your mouth.”

Taking her advice, Zack added a helping of grits and another biscuit to his plate. “Thanks,” he said, genuinely appreciating the tip.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” she replied, giving him another wink. “You enjoy your breakfast now, and if you need anything else, just holler. We’re all family down here.”

Zack nodded, smiling as he made his way back to the table. As he sat down, Jeremy immediately shot him a knowing look, his grin wide and mischievous, but Zack noticed the way Jeremy’s hand remained firmly on Felicia’s shoulder, his thumb idly stroking her collarbone as if to remind her—and everyone else—of his presence.

“So, how was your chat with the local cougar?” Jeremy teased, nudging Zack’s arm. “She looked like she was ready to eat you up—more than just breakfast.”

Zack felt his face flush as he ducked his head slightly. “She was just being friendly,” he mumbled, trying to downplay the encounter.

“Friendly?” Jeremy snorted, his grip on Felicia tightening just a fraction. “Friendly like a cat with a mouse. She was all over you, man. I was half-expecting her to ask you to stay for another night.”

Turner, catching on to the conversation, chuckled softly, though his eyes flicked between Jeremy and Felicia with a hint of concern. “Hey, at least you got some good advice on the food. Could’ve been worse.”

Calvin, still drowsy but managing to join in, muttered, “You could’ve ended up with her phone number instead of grits.”

The table erupted in laughter, with Zack trying to hide his embarrassment behind a sip of coffee. He knew they were just messing with him, but the attention was still a bit overwhelming. Despite that, the teasing helped ease the tension he’d felt about the trip, and he found himself smiling along with the rest of them.

Felicia leaned into Jeremy, her smile a bit strained as she glanced at him. “At least she didn’t try to recruit Zack into the Southern charm school,” she joked, though there was an edge to her voice that didn’t quite match the lightness of her words.

Jeremy’s expression softened slightly, his grip on her shoulder loosening as he chuckled. “Yeah, I don’t think Zack’s ready for that. He’s still got some city boy left in him.”

The conversation continued, the group gradually falling into their usual rhythm, but Zack couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. The dynamic between Jeremy and Felicia was subtly shifting, the possessiveness in Jeremy’s gestures growing more pronounced as the morning wore on. Zack wondered if anyone else had noticed, or if they were all too caught up in their own issues to see it.

As the group finished their breakfast and began gathering their things to head out, Zack caught a glimpse of Rosie watching them from the corner of her eye. There was a sadness in her expression, a worry that she quickly masked with a bright smile as she joined the others.

The sun had risen higher in the sky, casting a warm glow over Willow’s Rest as the group gathered outside, preparing to load up the Narglatch. The crisp morning air was filled with the sounds of birds chirping and the occasional thud of bags being tossed into the back of the vehicle. Despite the early hour, the group was in good spirits, eager to get on the road and begin their adventure. Yet, the undercurrent of tension from breakfast still lingered, like a low hum beneath the surface.

Emmaline stood by the SUV, checking off a mental list as she watched everyone bring their bags out. Felicia handed Jeremy a cooler packed with snacks, and Zack couldn’t help but notice how she hesitated slightly before letting go, as if unsure of whether she should be the one to carry it instead. Jeremy, of course, took the cooler with a grin, but there was a possessive edge to the way he set it down beside him, almost as if he was staking his claim over the small gesture.

Calvin and Rosie worked on securing the luggage, with Calvin meticulously arranging the bags in the trunk while Rosie offered suggestions. Zack observed how Rosie’s voice was always soothing, even when she was trying to help, her tone carefully calibrated to avoid causing any friction. But beneath her calm exterior, Zack could sense the subtle anxiety that drove her need to keep everyone happy, to maintain the peace at all costs.

Turner, meanwhile, seemed lost in his own world, humming softly to himself as he adjusted the straps on his backpack. There was a lightness to his movements, a carefree energy that Zack couldn’t quite reconcile with the Turner he’d known before. It was as if Turner had decided to distance himself from the group’s collective tension, choosing instead to focus on the small pleasures of the moment.

As the last of the bags were loaded, Jeremy stepped back, hands on his hips, and eyed the vehicle with a skeptical look. “You know, I’m still not over the fact that we’re driving a relic,” he quipped, glancing at Emmaline with a teasing grin. “I mean, we’re just one breakdown away from making this a hiking trip.”

Emmaline rolled her eyes, clearly used to Jeremy’s jabs, but there was a tightness around her smile that Zack didn’t miss. “It’s not a relic, it’s a classic. And besides, it’s reliable, and it’ll get us where we need to go. You’ll thank me when we’re cruising up those mountain trails.”

“Yeah, if it doesn’t turn into a museum piece on the way there,” Jeremy shot back, earning a few chuckles from the others.

“Or fall apart like a puzzle,” Calvin added dryly, his usual sharp wit tinged with a hint of bitterness.

Zack laughed as he slung his backpack into the back seat, shutting the door with a satisfying click. “If it gets us to the cabins, I’m good with it. Besides, it’s got character, right?”

“Character’s one way to put it,” Jeremy muttered, but there was a good-natured grin on his face as he climbed into the front passenger seat. His eyes flicked over to Felicia, who was settling into the seat beside him, and Zack noticed the way Jeremy’s hand briefly brushed against her arm as if reassuring himself that she was there.

Once everyone was settled inside, Emmaline took the driver’s seat, adjusting the mirrors and checking the GPS for their route. The SUV rumbled to life, its engine purring with a surprising smoothness that silenced some of Jeremy’s earlier doubts.

“Alright, everyone ready?” Emmaline asked, glancing back at the group.

A chorus of affirmations filled the car, and with that, Emmaline pulled out of the parking lot and onto the open road. The SUV rolled smoothly along the highway, its sturdy frame handling the gentle curves and occasional bumps with ease. The morning light streamed through the windows, casting long shadows across the interior as the group settled in for the long drive ahead.

The scenery outside shifted from the quaint charm of the bed and breakfast to the rolling hills and dense forests of the Ozarks. The first leg of the journey was filled with the usual road trip chatter—reminiscing about old memories, joking about the questionable reliability of their vehicle, and speculating about what awaited them in Cedar Hollow.

As the miles passed, the conversation ebbed and flowed, with periods of quiet comfort as the group relaxed into the drive. Turner, sitting beside Zack in the back seat, was surprisingly talkative, sharing anecdotes about past trips and pointing out interesting landmarks as they sped by. Zack found himself more at ease in Turner’s presence now, the earlier awkwardness from the airport replaced by a growing sense of camaraderie.

However, it wasn’t long before Zack noticed a shift in the car’s atmosphere. Jeremy, who had been joking and chatting easily with the others, suddenly fell silent when Turner mentioned a past road trip that he and Felicia had taken together. 

There was a tightness in Jeremy’s jaw as he glanced at Felicia, his hand subtly moving to rest on her thigh, as if to reassert his presence.

Felicia’s response was immediate and almost reflexive; she leaned into Jeremy slightly, her laugh a bit too loud, a bit too forced. Zack watched the interaction with a growing sense of unease, recognizing the signs of a dynamic that was beginning to tilt in the wrong direction.

“Remember that time we got lost in the middle of nowhere?” Turner said, grinning as he glanced over at Felicia. “We ended up camping out under the stars because we couldn’t find the trail.”

Felicia smiled, but Zack could see the tension in her shoulders. “Yeah, that was fun. But I’m glad we’re a bit more prepared this time.”

Jeremy’s hand tightened on her thigh, and he shot Turner a look that was all too brief but filled with something darker. “We won’t be getting lost this time,” Jeremy said, his voice steady but laced with an underlying edge. “I’ve got it all under control.”

Turner, seemingly oblivious to the shift in tone, nodded agreeably. “Good to know, man. I trust you’ve got it covered.”

The conversation moved on, but Zack couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed. Jeremy’s possessiveness was becoming more pronounced, and it was clear that Felicia was starting to feel the pressure. Zack wanted to say something, to lighten the mood or maybe even address it directly, but he wasn’t sure how to without making things worse.

As they approached the final stretch, the group fell into a comfortable silence, the anticipation of their destination building with each passing mile. The adventure they had been planning for months was finally within reach, and with the dense forest closing in around them, Cedar Hollow felt closer than ever.

Rosie, who had been humming softly to herself, broke the silence with a contented sigh. “This is exactly what we needed. Just us, the mountains, and no distractions.”

Turner nodded in agreement, his usual quiet demeanor now tinged with a sense of peace. “Yeah, it feels like we’re finally leaving everything behind.”

Jeremy glanced at Rosie with a smile, but Zack noticed that his hand never left Felicia’s thigh. “Well, we’re almost there. Just a little further, and we’ll be at the cabins. Then it’s nothing but fresh air, campfires, and maybe a little bit of adventure.”

Calvin leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes with a smile. “Sounds perfect to me.”

As they rounded a bend in the road, Jeremy slowed the SUV, pointing toward a small, rustic shop nestled among the trees. The sign above the door read “Humphry’s Gear & More.”

“Let’s make a quick stop here,” Jeremy suggested, pulling into the gravel parking lot. “We’re getting close, but it wouldn’t hurt to grab some extra supplies. You know, just in case.”

The group agreed, and they piled out of the SUV, stretching their legs as they approached the shop. The air was crisp and cool, carrying the scent of pine and earth, a reminder that they were deep in the heart of the mountains now.

The shop’s exterior was weathered and worn, with a porch lined with old wooden rocking chairs and a display of hiking boots, lanterns, and other outdoor essentials. A faded American flag hung near the entrance, fluttering gently in the breeze.

Inside, the shop was a treasure trove of camping and survival gear. Shelves were stocked with everything from flashlights and first-aid kits to bear repellent and dehydrated meals. The walls were adorned with mounted animal heads and framed maps of the surrounding wilderness.

The shopkeeper, an older man with a bushy white beard and a flannel shirt, looked up from behind the counter as they entered. His sharp eyes, a contrast to his grizzled appearance, took in the group with a nod. “Afternoon, folks. Lookin’ for anything in particular?”

“Just grabbing a few last-minute things,” Emmaline replied with a friendly smile. “We’re heading up to Pine Ridge Cabins for the week.”

M. Mumphry, as his name tag read, let out a low chuckle. “Ah, Pine Ridge, eh? Beautiful spot, but y’all best be prepared. Weather can change fast up there, and the nights get real cold. Cold enough to make ya question yer life choices. And don’t forget ‘bout the wildlife. Bears and cougars tend to wander ‘round those parts, especially this time of year.”

Jeremy was already browsing the shelves, picking up a few items. “Good to know. We’ve got most of what we need, but it never hurts to have a little extra.”

Zack wandered over to a display of survival knives, his fingers brushing over the handles. “Do we really need all this stuff?” he asked, half-jokingly, but with a hint of genuine curiosity.

Calvin, who was examining a rack of emergency blankets, glanced over. “Better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it.  Besides, you never know what could happen out there. Nature’s unpredictable.”

Felicia picked up a canister of bear spray, reading the label with a raised eyebrow. “Are there really bears up here?”

Mumphry’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he leaned forward on the counter. “Oh, we’ve got bears, alright. Big ones. They don’t usually bother folks, long as you don’t bother them, but it’s always good to be prepared. Better safe than sorry, like the sayin’ goes.”

Before anyone could respond, the door to the back storage room swung open with a loud bang, startling everyone. A middle-aged man, balding on the top but with fluffy hair cascading down to his shoulders, stomped through the doorway carrying a large box of supplies. His entrance was accompanied by the muffled sound of classic rock music from the 1970s and 1980s blaring from a small radio in the back. He was heavyset, with a friendly but slightly eerie grin on his face as he noticed the group.

“Wyatt!” Mumphry barked, his voice sharp. “Mind yer noise and get back to work.”

Wyatt nodded quickly, muttering an apology as he shuffled to the shelves to restock supplies, sneaking a glance at the group as he passed. His eyes widened when they landed on Felicia’s rainbow-colored hair, but one stern look from Jeremy sent him hurrying on his way.

“Don’t mind him,” Mumphry said gruffly. “He’s harmless, just a bit too curious for his own good sometimes. Likes to think he knows everything ‘bout these mountains.”

Turner, not missing the chance for a callback, grinned and said, “So, any tips on dealing with the Ozark Black Howler, or is it just the usual bears and cougars we should watch out for?”

Wyatt, who was within earshot, perked up at the mention of the legends. “Y’all headin’ up into the hills, huh? Adventure, huh? Well, y’all picked the right place. The Ozarks got plenty of that. But lemme tell ya, it ain’t just the pretty scenery you gotta watch out for.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “There’s critters out there that’ll give ya more than just a scare. Bears, pant’ers, hawgs, them’s the usual suspects. But then there’s the Black Howler and the Goatmen.”

Felicia rolled her eyes playfully, but Wyatt’s intensity seemed to catch the group off guard. He continued, undeterred. “Well, seems like yer friend here knows a thing or two. The Black Howler’s been spookin’ folks ‘round these parts for generations. Big ol’ creature, bigger than any bear, with eyes that burn like coals. Some folks think it’s a spirit, others reckon it’s somethin’ else entirely.”

Jeremy, noticing Wyatt’s lingering gaze on Felicia, stepped forward, his tone turning cold. “Something catch your eye, buddy?”

Wyatt, startled by the sudden shift in Jeremy’s demeanor, stammered, “Uh, no, sir. Just… was admirin’ her hair, is all. Ain’t meanin’ no disrespect.”

Jeremy didn’t back down, his eyes narrowing. “You sure about that? ‘Cause it seems like you’re more interested in staring than talking.”

Wyatt, sensing the tension, quickly raised his hands in a placating gesture. “No harm meant, I swear. Just sharin’ a bit of local lore, tryin’ to be helpful, y’know?”

Before the situation could escalate further, Calvin cut in with a sharp tone, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Yeah, Jeremy, let’s all calm down. I’m sure Wyatt here is just trying to make sure we’re properly spooked before we head into the great unknown. Isn’t that right, Wyatt?”

Wyatt nodded quickly, eager to defuse the tension. “That’s right, just sharin’ what I know. These parts got their stories, and I reckon it don’t hurt to be aware. And ‘bout them Goatmen—old Mathew here, he’s been known to have killed one back in his day.”

Mumphry scoffed, waving off Wyatt’s comment with a dismissive hand. “Don’t be fillin’ their heads with nonsense, Wyatt. Ain’t nobody killin’ no Goatman. It’s just stories folks tell ‘round the campfire to keep the kids from wanderin’ off into the woods.”

But Jeremy wasn’t satisfied, his posture still tense as he stared down Wyatt. “Yeah? Well, maybe you should keep your stories to yourself.”

Wyatt took a cautious step back, clearly unnerved by Jeremy’s intensity. “Sure thing, no problem,” he mumbled, his eyes flicking to Mumphry for support.

But instead of calming the situation, Mumphry’s expression hardened. He leaned forward, his eyes locking onto Jeremy with the kind of piercing gaze that only a seasoned drill sergeant could muster. “You listen here, boy,” he began, his voice low and gravelly but filled with authority. “I don’t know what kind of macho nonsense you’re tryin’ to pull, but I suggest you drop it. Wyatt here ain’t done nothin’ but try to be friendly, and you’re actin’ like a damn fool.”

Jeremy stiffened, not used to being spoken to like that. “I don’t need some old man telling me how to act,” he shot back, his voice laced with defiance.

Mumphry’s eyes narrowed, his tone turning icy. “Old man, huh? Let me tell you somethin’, son—this ‘old man’ has seen more, done more, and forgotten more than you’ll ever know. You think puffin’ up your chest and throwin’ around attitude makes you tough? I’ve dealt with tougher than you in my sleep.”

Calvin, sensing the situation spiraling, tried to step in. “Look, there’s no need for this to escalate. We’re just trying to buy some supplies and be on our way.”

Mumphry’s gaze shifted to Calvin, and his voice didn’t soften. “You think I’m lookin’ for a fight, kid? I’m just callin’ out bullshit when I see it. And right now, I see a couple of young punks who think they can walk into my shop and start somethin’ over nothin’. You best check your ego at the door next time.”

Jeremy, his frustration boiling over, took a step closer, but Mumphry didn’t budge, his stance as solid as a rock. “You really think you’re intimidatin’ anyone with that tough guy act? I’ve stared down men twice your size with a lot more guts and brains. So why don’t you do yourself a favor and shut your mouth before you say somethin’ you’ll regret?”

The shop fell into an uneasy silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Zack and Felicia exchanged nervous glances, unsure of how to defuse the situation, while Turner shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

Jeremy’s hands balled into fists, but he hesitated, clearly torn between backing down and standing his ground. Calvin, sensing that Jeremy was close to doing something stupid, put a firm hand on his shoulder. “Jeremy, let it go. This isn’t worth it.”

Mumphry, seeing that his words had finally hit home, straightened up, his expression less severe but still unyielding. “That’s right. Let it go. Y’all came here to get supplies for your little trip, so why don’t you do that and leave the tough talk for someone who cares.”

Jeremy’s face was flushed with anger, but he took a step back, glaring at Mumphry before turning away. Calvin, his own frustration simmering, nodded curtly at the older man. “We’ll take our stuff and go.”

Mumphry watched them with a critical eye as Turner quickly moved to the counter to pay for the items. His tone was still firm as he addressed the group. “Y’all best remember that the mountains don’t care ‘bout your pride or your attitude. They’ll humble you real quick if you’re not careful. So watch yourselves up there.”

As Turner handed over the money, he hesitated for a moment, then blurted out, “So, uh… if your name’s Mumphry with an M, why’s it spelled Humphry with an H on the sign out front?”

Mumphry’s stern expression softened for just a second, a hint of a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’s a bad joke,” he said gruffly, his voice still holding that drill sergeant edge. “One of them ‘humble pie’ lessons. Figured it’d keep folks wonderin’. Now, if y’all are done, get on outta here.”

As they reached the SUV, Emmaline let out a long breath, clearly relieved to be out of the shop. “Let’s just get going. The sooner we get to the cabins, the better.”

Rosie, trying to lighten the mood, forced a laugh. “Yeah, no more run-ins with grumpy old men, okay?”

Jeremy, still fuming, muttered under his breath as he climbed into the SUV. “Grumpy old man, my ass.”

Turner, eager to move past the incident, chimed in with forced enthusiasm. “So, ghost hunting, huh? Maybe we’ll find our own Goatman up here.”

Jeremy gave a half-hearted chuckle, his aggression slowly decaying into frustration. “Yeah, well, if we do, at least we know who to ask for advice.”

Rosie laughed, though there was an edge to it. “Let’s just hope it’s all stories and not actual monsters. I’m not ready to star in a horror movie just yet.”

Felicia, leaned back in her seat. “I mean, if we do see a Goatman, I’m definitely getting a selfie with it.”

As the SUV pulled away from the shop, the group settled into an uneasy silence, the confrontation still fresh in their minds. The mountains loomed closer in the distance, their peaks shrouded in mist, a reminder of the unpredictable adventure that lay ahead.

Zack stared out the window, his mind replaying the events at the shop. The landscape outside had grown wilder, the trees thicker and darker as they climbed higher into the mountains. The dense forest seemed to press in on them from all sides, the tall pines casting long shadows across the road.

His gaze drifted to the side of the road, where something caught his eye—a brief movement in the underbrush, a dark shape slipping between the trees. Zack squinted, trying to make out what it was, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. A chill ran down his spine, a strange, inexplicable feeling that they were being watched.

He shook his head, telling himself it was just his imagination, a trick of the light or maybe a deer. But the unease lingered, gnawing at the back of his mind.

Emmaline, who had taken the wheel again, broke the silence. “We’re almost there,” she announced, her voice steady but tinged with a hint of anticipation. The others seemed relieved, eager to put the day’s tension behind them.

As the SUV rounded a final bend, the cabins came into view, nestled in a clearing surrounded by towering trees. The sight should have been a welcome one, but for Zack, the eerie feeling from earlier still clung to him, a nagging sense of unease that he couldn’t shake.

They pulled up to the cabins, the vehicle coming to a stop on the gravel driveway. The group began to stir, the tension easing slightly as they prepared to unpack and settle in. But as Zack stepped out of the SUV, he couldn’t help but glance back at the darkened woods, half-expecting to see that shadowy figure again.

The forest remained still and silent, but the feeling that something—or someone—was watching them stayed with him, a quiet, unsettling presence in the back of his mind as they finally arrived at their destination.

Chapter 01: Landing at the Regional

Turner looked up slowly, his eyes taking a moment to focus on Zack. Recognition flickered across his face, but instead of a smile, there was just a small, almost imperceptible nod. He stuffed his phone into his pocket, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as Zack approached.

“Uh, hey, Zack,” Turner mumbled, his gaze flickering around the terminal before landing back on Zack. “Didn’t… uh, didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeah, um… yeah,” Zack replied, awkwardly adjusting the strap of his backpack. “The flight… it was, uh, it was alright, I guess. Woke up… kinda scared when we landed. Didn’t, um… didn’t sleep much.”

Turner nodded again, the silence between them growing thick. “Yeah, I, um… yeah, that happens. Sometimes.”

What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I just have a normal conversation? Zack’s thoughts raced as he tried to think of something to say, something that wouldn’t make him seem so awkward. He shuffled his feet, unsure of what to say next. He glanced at Turner, who was staring off to the side, his mouth slightly open as if trying to find the right words. The pause stretched on, both of them caught in the uncomfortable quiet.

Finally, Turner cleared his throat. “The, uh… the others are in the food court,” he said, almost too softly. “Emmaline… she’s, um, really excited. About the trip. I think.”

Zack nodded, managing a small, tight-lipped smile. “Yeah… she’s been… she’s been talking about it a lot. She… uh, she can’t wait to get to the cabins. Surprised… she hasn’t already dragged us all there!” He forced a laugh, but it came out louder and more forced than he intended.

Turner’s lips twitched, not quite a smile. “Yeah. She’s… excited.” He hesitated, then added, “Do… do you want to… get some food? Before we go?”

“Uh, sure,” Zack said, nodding a bit too quickly. “Yeah, that… that sounds good. I’m… kinda hungry.”

“Okay,” Turner replied, his voice barely above a murmur. “Let’s… go, then,” he said, pointing a pair of finger guns to his left, towards the food court.

They started walking side by side, the space between them filled with the hum of the terminal and the quiet shuffle of their footsteps. Neither spoke, both too wrapped up in their own thoughts, unsure of how to bridge the silence. Turner’s hands fidgeted in his pockets, while Zack kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, occasionally stealing glances at the people passing by, as if searching for something to say.

I should say something. Anything. But what if it sounds stupid? What if he thinks I’m weird? Zack’s anxiety gnawed at him, making the silence between them feel even more oppressive.

As they neared the food court, the sound of laughter and conversation grew louder, offering a welcome distraction from the awkwardness hanging between them. Zack spotted the rest of the group sitting at a large table, their animated chatter a stark contrast to the quiet tension he and Turner shared.

Emmaline noticed them first, waving them over with a bright smile. “There you guys are! We were starting to wonder when you’d show up.”

Turner and Zack exchanged a quick glance, both of them relieved to be in the presence of others. The awkwardness between them began to dissolve as they joined the group, the noise and energy of the food court offering a much-needed escape from their stilted conversation.

The smell of fast food, coffee, and fried snacks filled the air as they approached, and Zack’s stomach growled in response. The food court was a bustling hub of activity, with travelers seated at small tables, chatting and eating as they waited for their next flight or journey.

As Zack and Turner approached the table, the conversation between the group grew clearer. Calvin, as usual, was in the middle of an animated explanation, his voice carrying over the general din of the food court. But today, there was a noticeable edge to his tone, a hint of frustration that colored his words.

“—and you see, lobsters used to be so plentiful that they were considered the poor man’s food. They’d feed them to prisoners, slaves, even use them as fertilizer for crops. It was only when they started marketing them as a delicacy in the 19th century that the price skyrocketed.”

The waiter, a young man with a thick Southern drawl, stood beside the table, clearly less than interested in Calvin’s history lesson. He glanced at his notepad, then back at Calvin with a polite but strained smile.

“Uh-huh, that’s real interesting, sir. But I was just lettin’ y’all know that the seafood soup is the special this week,” the waiter said, his voice flat with barely disguised impatience.

Rosie, sitting beside Calvin, covered a smile with her hand, but there was a tightness to it, as if she were holding something back. Felicia and Jeremy exchanged a look, the corners of their mouths twitching with amusement, but there was a subtle tension between them, a sense that something unsaid was simmering beneath the surface. Jeremy leaned over to Felicia, his voice just loud enough for the others to hear.

“You think he’d order a history lesson if it was on the menu?” Jeremy whispered, a mischievous glint in his eye. But there was something possessive in the way he hovered close to Felicia, as if marking his territory.

Felicia snorted, nudging him with her elbow. “Only if it came with a side of useless trivia,” she teased, her tone affectionate but edging on biting. Her laugh was light, but her laugh was light, but her eyes darted nervously toward Jeremy, gauging his reaction. She was careful not to push too far, the dynamic between them fraught with an unspoken tension. It was as though she was constantly walking on eggshells, trying to maintain the balance between playful banter and something darker.

“Better than ordering more burnt jokes,” Calvin shot back, rolling his eyes as he noticed Zack and Turner approaching. His voice carried an undercurrent of irritation, as if he were struggling to keep his emotions in check. He was always the one with the quick wit, the one who could steer the conversation with ease, but today there was a brittle edge to his words. “Hey, you guys made it. We were just getting started on some dinner before heading out.”

Emmaline waved them over to the empty seats, her smile as warm as ever, though there was a slight tension in her eyes, a worry that seemed to linger just beneath the surface. “Come on, sit down. We’re just about to order. Turner, Zack, what do you guys want?”

Zack and Turner exchanged another glance, both relieved to be out of their awkward bubble. Zack was the first to speak up, his voice a bit tentative. “Uh, just… I’ll have whatever’s easy. Maybe a burger?”

“I’ll do the same,” Turner added quietly, still looking slightly out of place among the more boisterous group. There was a flicker of discomfort in his eyes, as if he was trying to blend in, to find his place in the group dynamic without drawing too much attention to himself.

The waiter nodded, jotting down their orders before heading off, leaving the group to resume their conversation. Calvin, now diverted from his history tangent, turned his attention to Emmaline, his tone lighter but still carrying a trace of underlying stress.

“So, what’s the plan once we get to the cabins? You’ve got us doing a whole itinerary, right?”

Emmaline laughed, shaking her head. “Relax, Calvin. We’ve got plenty of time to figure it out. Let’s get our gear tonight and stay at the bed n’ breakfast, and we’ll think about everything up the mountain tomorrow. We have a full week.” She spoke with her usual authority, but there was a hint of desperation in her voice, a need to keep everything under control, to make sure everyone was happy and the trip went smoothly.

Felicia leaned back in her chair, her arm casually draped over Jeremy’s shoulders. “Sounds good to me. As long as there’s a hot tub somewhere, I’m in.” Her voice was light, but there was an edge of weariness to her, as if the constant need to keep Jeremy’s temper in check was beginning to take its toll.

“Or a cold lake,” Jeremy added with a grin, his arm tightening around Felicia’s shoulders in a possessive gesture. “Nothing like a swim to wake you up after a long drive.”

Rosie, always the peacekeeper, chimed in, her voice soft but firm. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty to do. It’s all about enjoying the time together, right?” Her words were laced with an almost desperate optimism, a need to smooth over any rough edges and keep the group united, even as she felt the weight of her own anxieties pressing down on her.

Zack nodded, listening to the easy banter between his sister’s friends. He felt the tension from earlier slowly slipping away, replaced by the anticipation of the days ahead. Turner, beside him, seemed more at ease too, though he remained mostly silent, content to listen rather than contribute.

As they waited for their food, the conversation ebbed and flowed, with Calvin and Jeremy trading barbs while Felicia and Rosie tried to keep the peace. Emmaline, ever the organizer, made a few more notes on her phone, her mind clearly working a mile a minute to ensure that everything went according to plan. But beneath the surface, each of them carried their own burdens, their own doubts and insecurities that threatened to bubble up at any moment.

Turner’s eyes flitted nervously between the others, his fingers drumming a silent rhythm on the table as he tried to read the room. He often felt like an outsider, someone who had to work twice as hard to fit in, and the pressure was beginning to weigh on him. He wanted to contribute, to feel like he belonged, but the fear of saying the wrong thing kept him quiet.

Zack, meanwhile, found himself caught between wanting to engage and the gnawing anxiety that made him second-guess every word. He glanced at Calvin, who seemed to be handling the conversation with ease, but Zack knew better. He could see the way Calvin’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, the way his laughter had a slightly forced quality to it. It was the same kind of mask Zack had learned to wear when the world felt too overwhelming.

Emmaline’s phone buzzed on the table, pulling her attention away from the conversation. She glanced at the screen, her brow furrowing slightly as she read the message. Whatever it was, it seemed to add to the weight she was already carrying, though she quickly plastered a smile back on her face when she noticed the others watching her.

“Everything okay?” Rosie asked, her tone gentle.

“Yeah, just… a work thing,” Emmaline replied, slipping her phone back into her pocket. “Nothing to worry about. Let’s just focus on the trip, okay?”

The others nodded, though the unspoken tension lingered in the air. They all knew Emmaline had a habit of overloading herself, of taking on too much and pushing herself to the breaking point. But none of them wanted to press the issue, not wanting to add to her stress.

Their food arrived shortly after, and the group fell into a comfortable silence as they ate, each lost in their own thoughts. The noise of the food court provided a welcome distraction, a background hum that allowed them to momentarily forget the weight of their own worries.

As they finished their meal and gathered their things to head out, Calvin made one last attempt to lighten the mood, a forced grin on his face. “Alright, folks, let’s hit the road and get this adventure started. Who’s ready to wrestle a Goatman?”

Jeremy chuckled, but there was a hint of something darker in his eyes, a possessiveness that hadn’t quite been satisfied by the earlier banter. “As long as I get to wrestle him first, I’m in.”

Felicia rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t hide the slight tension in her smile. “You boys and your macho posturing,” she teased, but there was an edge to her voice, a hint of something unspoken.
Rosie, sensing the undercurrent of tension, quickly jumped in. “Come on, let’s just get going before we end up scaring ourselves out of the trip.”

Turner nodded, grateful for the distraction. “Yeah, let’s go. The sooner we get to the cabins, the better.”

Zack followed the group out of the food court, his mind still buzzing with the quiet anxieties that had been simmering beneath the surface all day. As they made their way to the rental SUV, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this trip was going to be more complicated than he had anticipated.

As they loaded their bags into the back of the SUV, Emmaline took the driver’s seat, her hands gripping the wheel a little too tightly. She glanced at the group in the rearview mirror, her voice steady but with a hint of determination. “Alright, everyone ready? Let’s get this show on the road.”

A chorus of affirmations filled the car, and with that, Emmaline pulled out of the parking lot and onto the open road. The SUV rolled smoothly along the highway, its engine humming with a surprising ease. The setting sun cast long shadows across the interior as the group settled in for the drive ahead, each of them carrying their own worries, their own fears, and their own secrets.

The scenery outside shifted from the concrete and steel of the airport to the rolling hills and dense forests of the Ozarks. The first leg of the journey was filled with the usual road trip chatter—reminiscing about old memories, joking about the reliability of their vehicle, and speculating about what awaited them in Cedar Hollow.

But beneath the surface, the tension simmered, an unspoken weight that none of them could quite shake. Each of them carried their own burdens, their own fears and insecurities that threatened to bubble up at any moment. And as the SUV climbed higher into the mountains, the air grew colder, the road narrower, the sense of foreboding thicker with each passing mile.

Zack stared out the window, watching as the trees seemed to stretch endlessly toward the sky. There was a sense of peace here, far removed from the hustle and bustle of their everyday lives. But there was also something else, something darker that lurked just beyond the edge of the forest, something that whispered of secrets and shadows waiting to be uncovered.

He glanced at the others, each lost in their own thoughts, each with their own demons to face. This trip was supposed to be a getaway, a chance to escape the pressures of their lives. But Zack couldn’t shake the feeling that they were heading straight into something far more complicated, something that would force them to confront not just the dangers of the wilderness, but the darkness within themselves as well.

Chapter 2: Willow’s Rest

The group stood outside Willow’s Rest Bed & Breakfast, a charming, ivy-covered building that looked as though it had been plucked straight from a postcard. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the cobblestone path leading up to the entrance, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the old oak trees that dotted the property. The group had stopped here for a quick break before continuing their journey to the cabins, and the peaceful setting seemed to put everyone in a reflective mood.

As Zack followed the others up the path, he couldn’t help but notice how the weight of their earlier conversation still lingered. There was a tension in the way they walked, a heaviness in their silence. Each of them seemed to be wrestling with something, their thoughts inward, their gazes distant. Zack could sense it, like a dark cloud hanging over them, but he wasn’t sure how to break through it.

Calvin was in the middle of recounting the local lore as they gathered around, waiting for Emmaline to finish checking in with the proprietor. His voice was animated, but there was a sharpness to his words, a barely contained edge that betrayed the frustration simmering beneath the surface. Zack recognized that tone—Calvin was trying to distract himself, to channel his anxiety into something that felt productive, but it was clear that the strain was getting to him.

“So, Zack,” Calvin began, his tone a blend of excitement and earnestness that didn’t quite match the tension in his posture, “did you know that Cedar Hollow, the town we’re heading to, has a pretty rich and somewhat eerie history?”

Zack raised an eyebrow, curious despite himself. “Eerie how?”

“Well,” Calvin said, adjusting his glasses with a slight twitch, “back in the late 1800s, there was this hermit named Grimsby—Old Man Grimsby, they called him. He lived way up in the mountains, away from everyone else, and folks said he was a bit… strange. He claimed to have visions, prophecies, about the town’s future. Specifically, he said that Cedar Hollow would one day play a crucial role in the battle between good and evil.”

Felicia, who had been idly picking at the leaves of a nearby shrub, smirked. “Sounds like someone spent too much time alone in the woods.” Her tone was light, but Zack noticed the way her fingers fidgeted with the leaves, tearing them into small pieces as she spoke. It was a subtle sign of her anxiety, a habit Zack had picked up on over the years. She used humor to deflect, to keep things light, but underneath it all, there was a tension that she couldn’t quite shake.

Calvin chuckled, unfazed. “Maybe, but here’s the interesting part. Fast forward to the Confederate States War in 2025, Cedar Hollow actually did become pretty important—it served as a major hospital location for the troops. It was one of the few places that remained standing after the initial bombings, and they used it to treat a lot of the wounded.”

Zack tilted his head, intrigued. “So you’re saying the hermit was onto something?”

“Exactly,” Calvin replied, his eyes lighting up, though his smile was tight, almost forced. “It’s just… interesting, you know? How this obscure little town ended up playing such a significant role in recent history. It’s like there’s something about Cedar Hollow that draws these big events to it, something almost… predestined.”

Jeremy, who had been leaning against the side of the bed and breakfast, rolled his eyes and grinned, though there was a possessive edge to the way he kept his arm draped around Felicia’s shoulders. “Yeah, yeah, sure. And I bet you think there are Goatmen roaming the woods too, huh, Calvin?”

Rosie laughed, nudging Calvin playfully. “Careful, he might start quoting more local legends at you.” Her voice was bright, but Zack could see the tension in her eyes, the way she glanced at the others as if making sure everyone was still on the same page. Rosie was the glue that held them together, always smoothing over conflicts, always making sure everyone was okay, but it was clear that the strain was beginning to show.

Calvin shook his head, grinning back, though there was a hint of defensiveness in his tone. “I’m just saying, the place has a history. And for the record, the Goatmen are just folklore. But the Ozark Black Howler, on the other hand…”

“Oh no,” Felicia groaned, “here we go.” She leaned into Jeremy slightly as she spoke, almost as if seeking his approval, his protection. Zack noticed the way Jeremy’s grip on her shoulder tightened just a fraction, a possessive gesture that didn’t go unnoticed.

“The Ozark Black Howler is another one of those local legends,” Calvin continued, ignoring the groans of the group. “Supposedly, it’s this massive, black-furred beast with glowing red eyes that roams the mountains. The early settlers and the indigenous tribes both had stories about it—something about it being a guardian spirit, or maybe a demon, depending on who you ask. People still claim to hear its howls echoing through the valleys at night.”

Zack smirked, trying to hide his growing interest. “You believe in that too?”

Calvin shrugged, a playful twinkle in his eye, though his shoulders were still tense, his posture stiff. “I think it’s fascinating, whether it’s true or not. There’s always some truth buried in legends, even if it’s just about the fears or beliefs of the people who tell them.”

Jeremy smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief, though his arm remained firmly around Felicia. “If we run into a Goatman, I say we hunt it down. Wouldn’t mind mounting that on the wall as a trophy.”

His bold statement was met with a mix of groans and laughter from the group, but Zack noticed the way Felicia stiffened slightly at Jeremy’s words, her smile faltering for just a moment before she forced it back into place. Zack felt a pang of unease, recognizing the familiar pattern of someone trying too hard to keep up appearances.

Before anyone could respond, a nearby local, a middle-aged man with a scruffy beard and a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, let out a loud, derisive laugh.

“You kids really believe in that Goatman nonsense?” the man asked, his voice dripping with amusement. “Ain’t nothin’ out there but trees and shadows. Folks around here love spinnin’ yarns to spook the tourists. You’d have better luck huntin’ rabbits.”

The group turned to face the man, their curiosity piqued. Calvin opened his mouth to reply, but the man cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Don’t waste your time chasin’ after old wives’ tales,” the man continued, shaking his head. “You’ll be out in those woods all night, and the only thing you’ll catch is a cold. Cedar Hollow’s a nice enough place, but it ain’t got no monsters, no matter what the old folks say.”

Jeremy grinned, undeterred, though Zack noticed the way his grip on Felicia tightened slightly. “Guess we’ll just have to find out for ourselves. Maybe the Goatmen are just shy.”

The local chuckled again, clearly enjoying the exchange. “You kids have fun with that. Just don’t go gettin’ lost out there. These mountains can be tricky if you don’t know your way.”

As the man walked off, the group exchanged amused glances, the lighthearted teasing adding a new layer of anticipation to their trip. But Zack couldn’t help but notice the way Felicia leaned into Jeremy, almost as if she were trying to reassure herself of something. It was a subtle gesture, but it spoke volumes.

Before the conversation could continue, Emmaline emerged from the bed and breakfast, her expression a mix of excitement and determination. There was a slight tightness around her eyes, a sign of the stress she was carrying, but she pushed it aside with a bright smile.

“Alright, I’ve got everything sorted,” she announced, catching everyone’s attention. “I booked us a couple of rooms for the night so we can rest up before heading out tomorrow. And I rented us a 2028 Narglatch SUV to take us up to the cabins.”

Jeremy’s face twisted into a look of disbelief, though there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “A Narglatch? Seriously? That thing’s almost 30 years old! Couldn’t we have gotten something a little more… I don’t know, modern?”

Emmaline sighed, clearly anticipating his reaction. “It was the only vehicle with four-wheel drive that could fit all of us and didn’t cost a fortune. Besides, it’s sturdy and reliable—just what we need for the mountain roads.”

“Sturdy, sure,” Jeremy muttered, crossing his arms. “As long as it doesn’t break down halfway up the mountain.” His tone was light, but there was an undercurrent of something darker, a hint of frustration that he didn’t quite manage to hide.

“It’ll get us where we need to go,” Emmaline insisted, her tone firm but patient. “Trust me, we’ll be glad to have it once we hit those rough trails. Plus, it’s part of the adventure, right?” There was a hint of desperation in her voice, as if she needed everyone to agree with her, to validate her decisions. Zack noticed the way she avoided direct eye contact with anyone, focusing instead on the SUV as if it were the key to holding everything together.

The others seemed to take Emmaline’s words to heart, and the grumbling subsided as they began gathering their bags and preparing to settle in for the night. The prospect of a good night’s sleep and a sturdy vehicle for the journey ahead helped to ease any lingering doubts.

Zack stretched lazily, the warmth of the cozy room making it difficult to leave the comfort of the bed. The early morning light filtered through the thin curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. With a sigh, he pushed himself upright, running a hand through his blue-dyed hair, which stuck up in every direction. The room still held the faint smell of cedar and fresh linens, a comforting reminder of where he was.

He dressed quickly and slipped out of the room, leaving the soft sound of Emmaline’s breathing behind him. The hallways of Willow’s Rest Bed & Breakfast were quiet, the floorboards creaking softly under his feet as he made his way toward the dining area. As he descended the stairs, the sounds of clinking dishes and muffled conversation grew louder, the warm scent of breakfast greeting him like an old friend.

The dining area was already bustling with activity. Several families, clearly tourists like themselves, were seated at the rustic wooden tables, enjoying plates of eggs, bacon, and fresh biscuits. The atmosphere was cheerful, filled with the hum of contented conversation and the occasional burst of laughter.

Zack spotted Jeremy at a table near the window, already halfway through his breakfast. When Jeremy saw Zack, he raised his glass of orange juice in a mock toast, grinning widely. But there was something possessive in the way he immediately shifted closer to Felicia, who was seated beside him, almost as if staking a claim.

“Happy you made it,” Jeremy called out, his tone light and teasing, but Zack didn’t miss the way Jeremy’s hand rested on the back of Felicia’s chair, his fingers tapping rhythmically as if marking his territory.

Zack couldn’t help but smile as he walked over and took a seat across from Jeremy. “Yeah, barely,” he replied, rubbing his eyes. “Felicia still asleep?”

“Out cold,” Jeremy said with a smirk, his arm draping casually around Felicia’s shoulders. She leaned into him slightly, her body language almost resigned, as if she was used to this kind of subtle possessiveness. “She’s not exactly a morning person. But that means more bacon for me.”

Zack chuckled and glanced around the table. Calvin sat next to Jeremy, his head propped up on one hand as he stared blankly at his plate. His usual energy was nowhere to be seen, and his responses to Jeremy’s occasional jabs were little more than grunts or half-hearted nods. Zack could tell that Calvin’s mind was still tangled in the events of the previous day, his thoughts likely racing with unresolved tension and anxiety.

Turner, however, was a different story. Sitting across from Calvin, he looked surprisingly lively, his eyes bright and a small, content smile on his face. He chatted animatedly, despite Calvin’s drowsy and somewhat rude responses, seemingly unbothered by the lack of engagement. There was a lightness to Turner’s demeanor, an ease that Zack found both comforting and slightly concerning, as if Turner was deliberately distancing himself from the weight of their collective unease.

Zack observed them for a moment, trying to reconcile this Turner with the quiet, awkward one he had known before. It was as if a switch had flipped overnight, and Turner was now radiating a warmth and energy that Zack hadn’t seen before. The contrast between the two of them—Turner’s upbeat demeanor and Calvin’s groggy grumpiness—was almost comical.

After a few moments of listening to Turner’s chatter about the day’s plans, Zack excused himself and made his way to the buffet line. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and warm syrup filled the air as he approached the spread of breakfast options. He grabbed a plate and started loading it with scrambled eggs, toast, and a few slices of freshly made waffles.

As he reached for a biscuit, a warm, drawling voice interrupted his thoughts. “Howdy, honey, welcome to the South.”

Zack looked up, surprised, and found himself face to face with an older woman who seemed to be staring him up and down. She had a friendly, almost flirtatious smile on her lips, and her thick Southern accent added a layer of charm to her words. Despite her age, she was still striking, with sharp features softened by a light touch of makeup and auburn hair styled in loose waves.

“Uh, hi,” Zack replied, a bit taken aback. “How did you know I wasn’t from around here?”

The woman’s smile widened, a playful glint in her eyes. “Oh, honey, it’s not that hard to tell. Most Southern boys don’t dye their hair blue.” She reached out and gently tugged at a lock of Zack’s hair, her touch light and teasing.

Zack felt his cheeks warm slightly. “Yeah, I guess that’s a bit of a giveaway.”

“Just a bit,” she drawled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “And let’s not forget that build of yours—slim, runner-like. Most boys your age down here are cornfed, got a little more meat on their bones. Stalkier, you know? Makes ‘em good for hauling hay and fixing up trucks.”

Zack laughed nervously, not entirely sure how to respond. “I guess I’m not cut out for farm work, then.”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short, sugar,” she said with a wink. “You’d do just fine down here. We might even make a Southern boy outta you yet.”

Zack grinned, relaxing a bit as he realized the woman’s teasing was all in good fun. “Maybe,” he replied, glancing at the food options. “So, what’s good here?”

“Oh, everything’s good,” she assured him. “But if you want a true taste of the South, don’t skip out on the grits. They’re creamy, buttery, and just right. And those biscuits? They’ll melt in your mouth.”

Taking her advice, Zack added a helping of grits and another biscuit to his plate. “Thanks,” he said, genuinely appreciating the tip.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” she replied, giving him another wink. “You enjoy your breakfast now, and if you need anything else, just holler. We’re all family down here.”

Zack nodded, smiling as he made his way back to the table. As he sat down, Jeremy immediately shot him a knowing look, his grin wide and mischievous, but Zack noticed the way Jeremy’s hand remained firmly on Felicia’s shoulder, his thumb idly stroking her collarbone as if to remind her—and everyone else—of his presence.

“So, how was your chat with the local cougar?” Jeremy teased, nudging Zack’s arm. “She looked like she was ready to eat you up—more than just breakfast.”

Zack felt his face flush as he ducked his head slightly. “She was just being friendly,” he mumbled, trying to downplay the encounter.

“Friendly?” Jeremy snorted, his grip on Felicia tightening just a fraction. “Friendly like a cat with a mouse. She was all over you, man. I was half-expecting her to ask you to stay for another night.”

Turner, catching on to the conversation, chuckled softly, though his eyes flicked between Jeremy and Felicia with a hint of concern. “Hey, at least you got some good advice on the food. Could’ve been worse.”

Calvin, still drowsy but managing to join in, muttered, “You could’ve ended up with her phone number instead of grits.”

The table erupted in laughter, with Zack trying to hide his embarrassment behind a sip of coffee. He knew they were just messing with him, but the attention was still a bit overwhelming. Despite that, the teasing helped ease the tension he’d felt about the trip, and he found himself smiling along with the rest of them.

Felicia leaned into Jeremy, her smile a bit strained as she glanced at him. “At least she didn’t try to recruit Zack into the Southern charm school,” she joked, though there was an edge to her voice that didn’t quite match the lightness of her words.

Jeremy’s expression softened slightly, his grip on her shoulder loosening as he chuckled. “Yeah, I don’t think Zack’s ready for that. He’s still got some city boy left in him.”

The conversation continued, the group gradually falling into their usual rhythm, but Zack couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. The dynamic between Jeremy and Felicia was subtly shifting, the possessiveness in Jeremy’s gestures growing more pronounced as the morning wore on. Zack wondered if anyone else had noticed, or if they were all too caught up in their own issues to see it.

As the group finished their breakfast and began gathering their things to head out, Zack caught a glimpse of Rosie watching them from the corner of her eye. There was a sadness in her expression, a worry that she quickly masked with a bright smile as she joined the others.

The sun had risen higher in the sky, casting a warm glow over Willow’s Rest as the group gathered outside, preparing to load up the Narglatch. The crisp morning air was filled with the sounds of birds chirping and the occasional thud of bags being tossed into the back of the vehicle. Despite the early hour, the group was in good spirits, eager to get on the road and begin their adventure. Yet, the undercurrent of tension from breakfast still lingered, like a low hum beneath the surface.

Emmaline stood by the SUV, checking off a mental list as she watched everyone bring their bags out. Felicia handed Jeremy a cooler packed with snacks, and Zack couldn’t help but notice how she hesitated slightly before letting go, as if unsure of whether she should be the one to carry it instead. Jeremy, of course, took the cooler with a grin, but there was a possessive edge to the way he set it down beside him, almost as if he was staking his claim over the small gesture.

Calvin and Rosie worked on securing the luggage, with Calvin meticulously arranging the bags in the trunk while Rosie offered suggestions. Zack observed how Rosie’s voice was always soothing, even when she was trying to help, her tone carefully calibrated to avoid causing any friction. But beneath her calm exterior, Zack could sense the subtle anxiety that drove her need to keep everyone happy, to maintain the peace at all costs.

Turner, meanwhile, seemed lost in his own world, humming softly to himself as he adjusted the straps on his backpack. There was a lightness to his movements, a carefree energy that Zack couldn’t quite reconcile with the Turner he’d known before. It was as if Turner had decided to distance himself from the group’s collective tension, choosing instead to focus on the small pleasures of the moment.

As the last of the bags were loaded, Jeremy stepped back, hands on his hips, and eyed the vehicle with a skeptical look. “You know, I’m still not over the fact that we’re driving a relic,” he quipped, glancing at Emmaline with a teasing grin. “I mean, we’re just one breakdown away from making this a hiking trip.”

Emmaline rolled her eyes, clearly used to Jeremy’s jabs, but there was a tightness around her smile that Zack didn’t miss. “It’s not a relic, it’s a classic. And besides, it’s reliable, and it’ll get us where we need to go. You’ll thank me when we’re cruising up those mountain trails.”

“Yeah, if it doesn’t turn into a museum piece on the way there,” Jeremy shot back, earning a few chuckles from the others.

“Or fall apart like a puzzle,” Calvin added dryly, his usual sharp wit tinged with a hint of bitterness.

Zack laughed as he slung his backpack into the back seat, shutting the door with a satisfying click. “If it gets us to the cabins, I’m good with it. Besides, it’s got character, right?”

“Character’s one way to put it,” Jeremy muttered, but there was a good-natured grin on his face as he climbed into the front passenger seat. His eyes flicked over to Felicia, who was settling into the seat beside him, and Zack noticed the way Jeremy’s hand briefly brushed against her arm as if reassuring himself that she was there.

Once everyone was settled inside, Emmaline took the driver’s seat, adjusting the mirrors and checking the GPS for their route. The SUV rumbled to life, its engine purring with a surprising smoothness that silenced some of Jeremy’s earlier doubts.

“Alright, everyone ready?” Emmaline asked, glancing back at the group.

A chorus of affirmations filled the car, and with that, Emmaline pulled out of the parking lot and onto the open road. The SUV rolled smoothly along the highway, its sturdy frame handling the gentle curves and occasional bumps with ease. The morning light streamed through the windows, casting long shadows across the interior as the group settled in for the long drive ahead.

The scenery outside shifted from the quaint charm of the bed and breakfast to the rolling hills and dense forests of the Ozarks. The first leg of the journey was filled with the usual road trip chatter—reminiscing about old memories, joking about the questionable reliability of their vehicle, and speculating about what awaited them in Cedar Hollow.

As the miles passed, the conversation ebbed and flowed, with periods of quiet comfort as the group relaxed into the drive. Turner, sitting beside Zack in the back seat, was surprisingly talkative, sharing anecdotes about past trips and pointing out interesting landmarks as they sped by. Zack found himself more at ease in Turner’s presence now, the earlier awkwardness from the airport replaced by a growing sense of camaraderie.

However, it wasn’t long before Zack noticed a shift in the car’s atmosphere. Jeremy, who had been joking and chatting easily with the others, suddenly fell silent when Turner mentioned a past road trip that he and Felicia had taken together. 

There was a tightness in Jeremy’s jaw as he glanced at Felicia, his hand subtly moving to rest on her thigh, as if to reassert his presence.

Felicia’s response was immediate and almost reflexive; she leaned into Jeremy slightly, her laugh a bit too loud, a bit too forced. Zack watched the interaction with a growing sense of unease, recognizing the signs of a dynamic that was beginning to tilt in the wrong direction.

“Remember that time we got lost in the middle of nowhere?” Turner said, grinning as he glanced over at Felicia. “We ended up camping out under the stars because we couldn’t find the trail.”

Felicia smiled, but Zack could see the tension in her shoulders. “Yeah, that was fun. But I’m glad we’re a bit more prepared this time.”

Jeremy’s hand tightened on her thigh, and he shot Turner a look that was all too brief but filled with something darker. “We won’t be getting lost this time,” Jeremy said, his voice steady but laced with an underlying edge. “I’ve got it all under control.”

Turner, seemingly oblivious to the shift in tone, nodded agreeably. “Good to know, man. I trust you’ve got it covered.”

The conversation moved on, but Zack couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed. Jeremy’s possessiveness was becoming more pronounced, and it was clear that Felicia was starting to feel the pressure. Zack wanted to say something, to lighten the mood or maybe even address it directly, but he wasn’t sure how to without making things worse.

As they approached the final stretch, the group fell into a comfortable silence, the anticipation of their destination building with each passing mile. The adventure they had been planning for months was finally within reach, and with the dense forest closing in around them, Cedar Hollow felt closer than ever.

Rosie, who had been humming softly to herself, broke the silence with a contented sigh. “This is exactly what we needed. Just us, the mountains, and no distractions.”

Turner nodded in agreement, his usual quiet demeanor now tinged with a sense of peace. “Yeah, it feels like we’re finally leaving everything behind.”

Jeremy glanced at Rosie with a smile, but Zack noticed that his hand never left Felicia’s thigh. “Well, we’re almost there. Just a little further, and we’ll be at the cabins. Then it’s nothing but fresh air, campfires, and maybe a little bit of adventure.”

Calvin leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes with a smile. “Sounds perfect to me.”

As they rounded a bend in the road, Jeremy slowed the SUV, pointing toward a small, rustic shop nestled among the trees. The sign above the door read “Humphry’s Gear & More.”

“Let’s make a quick stop here,” Jeremy suggested, pulling into the gravel parking lot. “We’re getting close, but it wouldn’t hurt to grab some extra supplies. You know, just in case.”

The group agreed, and they piled out of the SUV, stretching their legs as they approached the shop. The air was crisp and cool, carrying the scent of pine and earth, a reminder that they were deep in the heart of the mountains now.

The shop’s exterior was weathered and worn, with a porch lined with old wooden rocking chairs and a display of hiking boots, lanterns, and other outdoor essentials. A faded American flag hung near the entrance, fluttering gently in the breeze.

Inside, the shop was a treasure trove of camping and survival gear. Shelves were stocked with everything from flashlights and first-aid kits to bear repellent and dehydrated meals. The walls were adorned with mounted animal heads and framed maps of the surrounding wilderness.

The shopkeeper, an older man with a bushy white beard and a flannel shirt, looked up from behind the counter as they entered. His sharp eyes, a contrast to his grizzled appearance, took in the group with a nod. “Afternoon, folks. Lookin’ for anything in particular?”

“Just grabbing a few last-minute things,” Emmaline replied with a friendly smile. “We’re heading up to Pine Ridge Cabins for the week.”

M. Mumphry, as his name tag read, let out a low chuckle. “Ah, Pine Ridge, eh? Beautiful spot, but y’all best be prepared. Weather can change fast up there, and the nights get real cold. Cold enough to make ya question yer life choices. And don’t forget ‘bout the wildlife. Bears and cougars tend to wander ‘round those parts, especially this time of year.”

Jeremy was already browsing the shelves, picking up a few items. “Good to know. We’ve got most of what we need, but it never hurts to have a little extra.”

Zack wandered over to a display of survival knives, his fingers brushing over the handles. “Do we really need all this stuff?” he asked, half-jokingly, but with a hint of genuine curiosity.

Calvin, who was examining a rack of emergency blankets, glanced over. “Better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it.  Besides, you never know what could happen out there. Nature’s unpredictable.”

Felicia picked up a canister of bear spray, reading the label with a raised eyebrow. “Are there really bears up here?”

Mumphry’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he leaned forward on the counter. “Oh, we’ve got bears, alright. Big ones. They don’t usually bother folks, long as you don’t bother them, but it’s always good to be prepared. Better safe than sorry, like the sayin’ goes.”

Before anyone could respond, the door to the back storage room swung open with a loud bang, startling everyone. A middle-aged man, balding on the top but with fluffy hair cascading down to his shoulders, stomped through the doorway carrying a large box of supplies. His entrance was accompanied by the muffled sound of classic rock music from the 1970s and 1980s blaring from a small radio in the back. He was heavyset, with a friendly but slightly eerie grin on his face as he noticed the group.

“Wyatt!” Mumphry barked, his voice sharp. “Mind yer noise and get back to work.”

Wyatt nodded quickly, muttering an apology as he shuffled to the shelves to restock supplies, sneaking a glance at the group as he passed. His eyes widened when they landed on Felicia’s rainbow-colored hair, but one stern look from Jeremy sent him hurrying on his way.

“Don’t mind him,” Mumphry said gruffly. “He’s harmless, just a bit too curious for his own good sometimes. Likes to think he knows everything ‘bout these mountains.”

Turner, not missing the chance for a callback, grinned and said, “So, any tips on dealing with the Ozark Black Howler, or is it just the usual bears and cougars we should watch out for?”

Wyatt, who was within earshot, perked up at the mention of the legends. “Y’all headin’ up into the hills, huh? Adventure, huh? Well, y’all picked the right place. The Ozarks got plenty of that. But lemme tell ya, it ain’t just the pretty scenery you gotta watch out for.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “There’s critters out there that’ll give ya more than just a scare. Bears, pant’ers, hawgs, them’s the usual suspects. But then there’s the Black Howler and the Goatmen.”

Felicia rolled her eyes playfully, but Wyatt’s intensity seemed to catch the group off guard. He continued, undeterred. “Well, seems like yer friend here knows a thing or two. The Black Howler’s been spookin’ folks ‘round these parts for generations. Big ol’ creature, bigger than any bear, with eyes that burn like coals. Some folks think it’s a spirit, others reckon it’s somethin’ else entirely.”

Jeremy, noticing Wyatt’s lingering gaze on Felicia, stepped forward, his tone turning cold. “Something catch your eye, buddy?”

Wyatt, startled by the sudden shift in Jeremy’s demeanor, stammered, “Uh, no, sir. Just… was admirin’ her hair, is all. Ain’t meanin’ no disrespect.”

Jeremy didn’t back down, his eyes narrowing. “You sure about that? ‘Cause it seems like you’re more interested in staring than talking.”

Wyatt, sensing the tension, quickly raised his hands in a placating gesture. “No harm meant, I swear. Just sharin’ a bit of local lore, tryin’ to be helpful, y’know?”

Before the situation could escalate further, Calvin cut in with a sharp tone, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Yeah, Jeremy, let’s all calm down. I’m sure Wyatt here is just trying to make sure we’re properly spooked before we head into the great unknown. Isn’t that right, Wyatt?”

Wyatt nodded quickly, eager to defuse the tension. “That’s right, just sharin’ what I know. These parts got their stories, and I reckon it don’t hurt to be aware. And ‘bout them Goatmen—old Mathew here, he’s been known to have killed one back in his day.”

Mumphry scoffed, waving off Wyatt’s comment with a dismissive hand. “Don’t be fillin’ their heads with nonsense, Wyatt. Ain’t nobody killin’ no Goatman. It’s just stories folks tell ‘round the campfire to keep the kids from wanderin’ off into the woods.”

But Jeremy wasn’t satisfied, his posture still tense as he stared down Wyatt. “Yeah? Well, maybe you should keep your stories to yourself.”

Wyatt took a cautious step back, clearly unnerved by Jeremy’s intensity. “Sure thing, no problem,” he mumbled, his eyes flicking to Mumphry for support.

But instead of calming the situation, Mumphry’s expression hardened. He leaned forward, his eyes locking onto Jeremy with the kind of piercing gaze that only a seasoned drill sergeant could muster. “You listen here, boy,” he began, his voice low and gravelly but filled with authority. “I don’t know what kind of macho nonsense you’re tryin’ to pull, but I suggest you drop it. Wyatt here ain’t done nothin’ but try to be friendly, and you’re actin’ like a damn fool.”

Jeremy stiffened, not used to being spoken to like that. “I don’t need some old man telling me how to act,” he shot back, his voice laced with defiance.

Mumphry’s eyes narrowed, his tone turning icy. “Old man, huh? Let me tell you somethin’, son—this ‘old man’ has seen more, done more, and forgotten more than you’ll ever know. You think puffin’ up your chest and throwin’ around attitude makes you tough? I’ve dealt with tougher than you in my sleep.”

Calvin, sensing the situation spiraling, tried to step in. “Look, there’s no need for this to escalate. We’re just trying to buy some supplies and be on our way.”

Mumphry’s gaze shifted to Calvin, and his voice didn’t soften. “You think I’m lookin’ for a fight, kid? I’m just callin’ out bullshit when I see it. And right now, I see a couple of young punks who think they can walk into my shop and start somethin’ over nothin’. You best check your ego at the door next time.”

Jeremy, his frustration boiling over, took a step closer, but Mumphry didn’t budge, his stance as solid as a rock. “You really think you’re intimidatin’ anyone with that tough guy act? I’ve stared down men twice your size with a lot more guts and brains. So why don’t you do yourself a favor and shut your mouth before you say somethin’ you’ll regret?”

The shop fell into an uneasy silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Zack and Felicia exchanged nervous glances, unsure of how to defuse the situation, while Turner shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

Jeremy’s hands balled into fists, but he hesitated, clearly torn between backing down and standing his ground. Calvin, sensing that Jeremy was close to doing something stupid, put a firm hand on his shoulder. “Jeremy, let it go. This isn’t worth it.”

Mumphry, seeing that his words had finally hit home, straightened up, his expression less severe but still unyielding. “That’s right. Let it go. Y’all came here to get supplies for your little trip, so why don’t you do that and leave the tough talk for someone who cares.”

Jeremy’s face was flushed with anger, but he took a step back, glaring at Mumphry before turning away. Calvin, his own frustration simmering, nodded curtly at the older man. “We’ll take our stuff and go.”

Mumphry watched them with a critical eye as Turner quickly moved to the counter to pay for the items. His tone was still firm as he addressed the group. “Y’all best remember that the mountains don’t care ‘bout your pride or your attitude. They’ll humble you real quick if you’re not careful. So watch yourselves up there.”

As Turner handed over the money, he hesitated for a moment, then blurted out, “So, uh… if your name’s Mumphry with an M, why’s it spelled Humphry with an H on the sign out front?”

Mumphry’s stern expression softened for just a second, a hint of a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’s a bad joke,” he said gruffly, his voice still holding that drill sergeant edge. “One of them ‘humble pie’ lessons. Figured it’d keep folks wonderin’. Now, if y’all are done, get on outta here.”

As they reached the SUV, Emmaline let out a long breath, clearly relieved to be out of the shop. “Let’s just get going. The sooner we get to the cabins, the better.”

Rosie, trying to lighten the mood, forced a laugh. “Yeah, no more run-ins with grumpy old men, okay?”

Jeremy, still fuming, muttered under his breath as he climbed into the SUV. “Grumpy old man, my ass.”

Turner, eager to move past the incident, chimed in with forced enthusiasm. “So, ghost hunting, huh? Maybe we’ll find our own Goatman up here.”

Jeremy gave a half-hearted chuckle, his aggression slowly decaying into frustration. “Yeah, well, if we do, at least we know who to ask for advice.”

Rosie laughed, though there was an edge to it. “Let’s just hope it’s all stories and not actual monsters. I’m not ready to star in a horror movie just yet.”

Felicia, leaned back in her seat. “I mean, if we do see a Goatman, I’m definitely getting a selfie with it.”

As the SUV pulled away from the shop, the group settled into an uneasy silence, the confrontation still fresh in their minds. The mountains loomed closer in the distance, their peaks shrouded in mist, a reminder of the unpredictable adventure that lay ahead.

Zack stared out the window, his mind replaying the events at the shop. The landscape outside had grown wilder, the trees thicker and darker as they climbed higher into the mountains. The dense forest seemed to press in on them from all sides, the tall pines casting long shadows across the road.

His gaze drifted to the side of the road, where something caught his eye—a brief movement in the underbrush, a dark shape slipping between the trees. Zack squinted, trying to make out what it was, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. A chill ran down his spine, a strange, inexplicable feeling that they were being watched.

He shook his head, telling himself it was just his imagination, a trick of the light or maybe a deer. But the unease lingered, gnawing at the back of his mind.

Emmaline, who had taken the wheel again, broke the silence. “We’re almost there,” she announced, her voice steady but tinged with a hint of anticipation. The others seemed relieved, eager to put the day’s tension behind them.

As the SUV rounded a final bend, the cabins came into view, nestled in a clearing surrounded by towering trees. The sight should have been a welcome one, but for Zack, the eerie feeling from earlier still clung to him, a nagging sense of unease that he couldn’t shake.

They pulled up to the cabins, the vehicle coming to a stop on the gravel driveway. The group began to stir, the tension easing slightly as they prepared to unpack and settle in. But as Zack stepped out of the SUV, he couldn’t help but glance back at the darkened woods, half-expecting to see that shadowy figure again.

The forest remained still and silent, but the feeling that something—or someone—was watching them stayed with him, a quiet, unsettling presence in the back of his mind as they finally arrived at their destination.