Catherine

The spot was perfect. Nestled against the east face of Katadin, with a narrow alpine lake reflecting the sheer stone cliffs above us. The silence was total. No wind, no insects, no birds. Just cold and the distant sound of dripping water echoing off the cliffs. I woke up sometime around 2am to the sound of branches snapping. Not twigs, thick branches, crunch, crack, pause.

Then again, I thought maybe it was a moose or a bear, so I reached over to shake Sarah awake, but her eyes were already open. She whispered, something's pacing out there. We waited in silence. Nothing else came. When we checked in the morning, there were no prints. Just that eerie feeling in your chest when you know something was close. Still, we geared up and started our ascent.

Then again, I thought maybe it was a moose or a bear, so I reached over to shake Sarah awake, but her eyes were already open. She whispered, something's pacing out there. We waited in silence. Nothing else came. When we checked in the morning, there were no prints. Just that eerie feeling in your chest when you know something was close. Still, we geared up and started our ascent.

Knife Edge Trail is exactly what it sounds like. A long, narrow ridge connecting several peaks, with sheer drop-offs on either side. One misstep, and you're gone. It's not a trail you want to rush. The fog started rolling in as we reached Pomola Peak. At first it was just mist, but within minutes the trail disappeared behind us in a wall of white and visibility dropped to maybe 10 feet.

Knife Edge Trail is exactly what it sounds like. A long, narrow ridge connecting several peaks, with sheer drop-offs on either side. One misstep, and you're gone. It's not a trail you want to rush. The fog started rolling in as we reached Pomola Peak. At first it was just mist, but within minutes the trail disappeared behind us in a wall of white and visibility dropped to maybe 10 feet.

Wind gusted over the ridge howling through rock crevices like something screaming far off in the distance. We kept moving, careful and deliberate. Sarah was ahead, her orange pack barely visible. Then she disappeared. Just like that. I called out her name. No answer. I waited. Called again. Still nothing. Then from the fog ahead I heard her voice. Hey. Back here. Flat. Quiet. Wrong.

Wind gusted over the ridge howling through rock crevices like something screaming far off in the distance. We kept moving, careful and deliberate. Sarah was ahead, her orange pack barely visible. Then she disappeared. Just like that. I called out her name. No answer. I waited. Called again. Still nothing. Then from the fog ahead I heard her voice. Hey. Back here. Flat. Quiet. Wrong.

I started walking toward the sound. She called again. Hey, this way. Except her voice was coming from the left, not the trail. Toward the cliff. I stopped and looked down. Bare rock. A hundred foot drop. And then I saw a figure, just for a second, in the mist. My height. My build. Back turned. Slowly walking away from the trail. But the backpack was black, not orange.

I started walking toward the sound. She called again. Hey, this way. Except her voice was coming from the left, not the trail. Toward the cliff. I stopped and looked down. Bare rock. A hundred foot drop. And then I saw a figure, just for a second, in the mist. My height. My build. Back turned. Slowly walking away from the trail. But the backpack was black, not orange.

Then Sarah's hand grabbed my shoulder from behind. Where the hell are you going? She snapped. I turned. She was panting, pale, eyes wide. I heard you, I said. You called me. She shook her head. No. I lost sight of you. I've been calling for five minutes. You didn't respond. We stood there in silence, surrounded by white, both trying not to panic.

Then Sarah's hand grabbed my shoulder from behind. Where the hell are you going? She snapped. I turned. She was panting, pale, eyes wide. I heard you, I said. You called me. She shook her head. No. I lost sight of you. I've been calling for five minutes. You didn't respond. We stood there in silence, surrounded by white, both trying not to panic.

Eventually, we made it across Knife Edge, slowly and without talking. We bivvied just below the summit, on a narrow, flat patch of rock. It wasn't ideal, but it was flat and protected from wind. We didn't eat much. We just stared out into the fog, waiting for it to lift.

Eventually, we made it across Knife Edge, slowly and without talking. We bivvied just below the summit, on a narrow, flat patch of rock. It wasn't ideal, but it was flat and protected from wind. We didn't eat much. We just stared out into the fog, waiting for it to lift.

it never did that night i woke again but it wasn't noise this time it was the sound of my own voice faint just outside the tent hey back here i froze then it said again closer hey this way i slowly unzipped the tent and stuck my head out into the dark nothing Then, just at the edge of the fog, I saw bare footprints in the gravel. Not boot prints. Not animal tracks. Bare feet. Human. Long. Narrow.

it never did that night i woke again but it wasn't noise this time it was the sound of my own voice faint just outside the tent hey back here i froze then it said again closer hey this way i slowly unzipped the tent and stuck my head out into the dark nothing Then, just at the edge of the fog, I saw bare footprints in the gravel. Not boot prints. Not animal tracks. Bare feet. Human. Long. Narrow.

They circled the tent. Once. Twice. Then disappeared into the stone. I woke Sarah. We sat up until sunrise, staring at the wall of fog, flares in hand. She didn't say a word, just stared at her bare feet. One heel had a fresh cut. She didn't remember leaving the tent. When the fog started to clear that morning, I finally stepped outside fully to look around.

They circled the tent. Once. Twice. Then disappeared into the stone. I woke Sarah. We sat up until sunrise, staring at the wall of fog, flares in hand. She didn't say a word, just stared at her bare feet. One heel had a fresh cut. She didn't remember leaving the tent. When the fog started to clear that morning, I finally stepped outside fully to look around.

That's when I noticed something wrong with the footprints. There were two sets. One set came from the trail behind us. Boot prints. Mine. The other set came from the woods. From nowhere. Bare. Humanish. They circled our tent and only one set left. Sarah looked at me and asked quietly, Did you come back inside last night? I didn't answer, because I wasn't sure. The fog didn't lift.

That's when I noticed something wrong with the footprints. There were two sets. One set came from the trail behind us. Boot prints. Mine. The other set came from the woods. From nowhere. Bare. Humanish. They circled our tent and only one set left. Sarah looked at me and asked quietly, Did you come back inside last night? I didn't answer, because I wasn't sure. The fog didn't lift.

It retreated, like it had just been waiting for us to move on. We started our descent down the Dudley Trail late that morning. It was a steep, winding scramble over boulders slick with moss and patches of snow that hadn't yet melted. The knife edge was still behind us, partially veiled in a cloud that clung unnaturally to the ridge.