Catherine

It's the kind of darkness that feels heavy, like it's pressing in. I read until my eyes burned, cracked a lukewarm beer from my cooler, and eventually decided to turn in early. I wasn't scared, just tired. It was around 9.30 when I noticed it. I'd stepped outside to take a leak and cool off. The wind was dead still. No rustling, no coyotes yipping in the distance. Nothing.

And that's when I saw the stones. Stacked about twenty feet from the porch steps was a small cairn. Five flat river stones balanced perfectly on top of one another. It hadn't been there earlier. I'm not some city kid. I always scan my surroundings. and there sure as hell wasn't a pile of rocks sitting right there when I'd done my walkabout before dinner. I walked over to it.

And that's when I saw the stones. Stacked about twenty feet from the porch steps was a small cairn. Five flat river stones balanced perfectly on top of one another. It hadn't been there earlier. I'm not some city kid. I always scan my surroundings. and there sure as hell wasn't a pile of rocks sitting right there when I'd done my walkabout before dinner. I walked over to it.

Nothing strange about the rocks themselves. Normal river stones. But the balance was too perfect. Not like something you'd stumble into by accident. Could have been a leftover marker. Maybe from Clint. Maybe from the last guy. Or maybe it had been knocked down in the wind. Rebuilt it? No, that's not how wind works. I should have knocked it over. I almost did.

Nothing strange about the rocks themselves. Normal river stones. But the balance was too perfect. Not like something you'd stumble into by accident. Could have been a leftover marker. Maybe from Clint. Maybe from the last guy. Or maybe it had been knocked down in the wind. Rebuilt it? No, that's not how wind works. I should have knocked it over. I almost did.

But something in my gut said leave it, so I did. I went back inside, made sure the doors were locked, front and back, and settled into the cot. My pocket knife under my pillow like always. I didn't sleep well. The wind picked up just after midnight, whistling through that crack in the back door frame. It almost sounded like breathing.

But something in my gut said leave it, so I did. I went back inside, made sure the doors were locked, front and back, and settled into the cot. My pocket knife under my pillow like always. I didn't sleep well. The wind picked up just after midnight, whistling through that crack in the back door frame. It almost sounded like breathing.

That kind of ragged nasal inhale you hear when someone's standing too close. I got up around 1am and put a towel in the gap to muffle the sound. That helped, for a while. The rest of the night was uneventful. But I swear, when I woke up just before dawn I could still smell dust in the air. Not normal dust. It had this metallic edge to it, like wet pennies and dried blood. I brushed it off.

That kind of ragged nasal inhale you hear when someone's standing too close. I got up around 1am and put a towel in the gap to muffle the sound. That helped, for a while. The rest of the night was uneventful. But I swear, when I woke up just before dawn I could still smell dust in the air. Not normal dust. It had this metallic edge to it, like wet pennies and dried blood. I brushed it off.

First night nerves, sleep deprivation. Maybe even Clint's stupid don't answer the knocks joke rolling around in my head. I got dressed, made some instant coffee, and stepped outside to greet the sunrise. The rock pile was gone. No stones. No tracks. No sign it had ever been there. Just empty dirt and wind. I told myself I wasn't going to let the rock thing get to me.

First night nerves, sleep deprivation. Maybe even Clint's stupid don't answer the knocks joke rolling around in my head. I got dressed, made some instant coffee, and stepped outside to greet the sunrise. The rock pile was gone. No stones. No tracks. No sign it had ever been there. Just empty dirt and wind. I told myself I wasn't going to let the rock thing get to me.

There had to be some explanation. Maybe Clint came back and moved it as a joke. Maybe some old cairn had collapsed and I just didn't remember where it was. I logged the missing stones in the ranger notebook anyway. Not because I thought it mattered, but because something about seeing it in writing made it easier to believe it actually happened.

There had to be some explanation. Maybe Clint came back and moved it as a joke. Maybe some old cairn had collapsed and I just didn't remember where it was. I logged the missing stones in the ranger notebook anyway. Not because I thought it mattered, but because something about seeing it in writing made it easier to believe it actually happened.

If I was already starting to imagine things, I wanted a paper trail to prove otherwise. The day was quiet. I hiked about a half mile down the ridge around noon, just to get my legs moving and shake the weird vibes from the night before. I didn't see a soul. No fresh tire tracks on the fire road. No distant hikers. Just a couple jackrabbits and a snake sunning itself near the edge of the wash.

If I was already starting to imagine things, I wanted a paper trail to prove otherwise. The day was quiet. I hiked about a half mile down the ridge around noon, just to get my legs moving and shake the weird vibes from the night before. I didn't see a soul. No fresh tire tracks on the fire road. No distant hikers. Just a couple jackrabbits and a snake sunning itself near the edge of the wash.

When I got back, I fired up the generator to charge the lanterns. The fuel read low even though I'd only run it twice. Chalked it up to age or a leak I hadn't found yet.

When I got back, I fired up the generator to charge the lanterns. The fuel read low even though I'd only run it twice. Chalked it up to age or a leak I hadn't found yet.

around six p m i ate another ramen cup and boiled some instant coffee the sun dipped low behind the crags casting those long finger-like shadows that crawl over the hills until everything turns purple and blue and eventually black that's when the feeling came back Not fear exactly, but something else. That prickling sensation you get when someone's watching you from behind.

around six p m i ate another ramen cup and boiled some instant coffee the sun dipped low behind the crags casting those long finger-like shadows that crawl over the hills until everything turns purple and blue and eventually black that's when the feeling came back Not fear exactly, but something else. That prickling sensation you get when someone's watching you from behind.

Like your body knows before your brain does. Like your spine remembers something you don't. I tried to shake it. Sat by the window with a paperback and let the coffee warm my hands. Told myself I was just wired from being alone. I almost convinced myself. Until 8.43pm. Three knocks. Slow. Steady. Not loud, but not timid either. I froze. My first thought, honest to God, was, Clint.