CHAPTER TWELVE: CHANGING WINDS

Atem did as I had done and rolled on the pine covered ground of the darkened forest, as if spat out of the dilapidated cabin and forced to recover from the sudden fall.

I looked back at where the cabin should have been, but nothing but swaying trees and dense fog was in its space. I knew what was missing. "Where's the camera?"

Atem crawled a few feet toward the blinking red light amongst the brush until he grabbed the battered camera and lifted it to look at its screen. "There's nothing. I don't see anything there. What the hell...?"

"This is crazy." I shook my head and stood, dusting the debris and dirt from my knees. We both had been running through the dark and narrow halls of an old cabin. "I don't understand what this means. What are we supposed to do now?"

"This is crazy shit." Atem's disheveled silhouette stood before me, twigs and pine needles protruded from his curly hair. "And if you're the author if this story, you have a lot of crazy shit to work out."

"As do you," I reminded him. "Who or what was that back there? Those mangled creatures, were they your parents?"

He nodded slowly, as we both relived the moment in our minds. "My grandma had mentioned that my mom and papa were looking to divorce when I was a toddler. She was taking care of me when they vacationed in Japan to work on their relationship. They were supposed to be there for a few weeks to figure out what they wanted to do, and which direction they wanted the relationship to take. It took even longer before I realized they weren't coming back. A tsunami hit the building they were at and crushed them to death."

"Sorry," I shook my head. "I had thought you were exaggerating when you told us about your parents' death. You never went into detail about it and rarely talked about them. I thought you just made up a fantastical story about them because you didn't really know how they died."

"Can you blame me? It's depressing." He scoffed.

"It still affects you to this day?"

"No. I was too young to even understand it?" he insisted. "I mean, I didn't even know them. When it happened, I was five."

"I'm sure it still affects you somehow." I cocked my head and tried to make out his facial expression through the dark and fog.

His shoulders broadened. "What are you saying?" Was he getting defensive?

"There's a reason we saw that stuff," I pointed out. "Authors don't place things in novels for no reason. We just gotta figure out the reason and work with it. Let it work for us and not against us."

"What about that hanging body?" Atem asked. "Was that who I think it was?"

I dropped my head. "The letter on his back. That was the letter Clay left for me. I need to get that letter back. It's important. I can feel it."

"You've been trying to get that letter forever and you're not getting any closer," Atem pointed out. "Maybe we're not looking at this the right way."

"What do you mean?" I shrugged in disappointment. "We're writers. We need to look at this from a writer's perspective. What is the author trying to convey? What's the message?"

"That's where we're more alike than we want to admit." Atem bowed his head. "I think you're right. I think my parents' death affects me more than I know. No matter how many years ago they died, it's still..."

"Traumatizing?" I finished. "Yeah, I know. I don't think time matters with death. Just knowing someone important to us is no longer here will always upset us." I thought of Zeke and Felicity and how quickly something snatched them from our lives. "I hope Zeke was right that he heard Felicity. That would mean she's still alive. Maybe he is too."

"I wish we knew where to look for them." Atem glanced around at the dark trees and their foliage. They resembled oversized, yet lean Christmas trees minus the family, laughter, and the holiday associated with them.

Christmas at home was never like the Christmases on TV. With loving and happy families sitting around large roasted turkey or ham, telling stories and reliving their nostalgic times together, remembering the good times and laughing away the bad.

My most memorable Christmases were the ones of Clay and I alone, watching It's a Wonderful Life or Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer reruns, and eating cold sandwiches made with deli turkey and white bread.

"Clay never had a moment to grow and live his life. No wonder he always felt restricted and unable to do the things he wanted," I said aloud. "He always pushed me to write, and learn, and use my imagination."

"Clay was a good guy," Atem nodded. "From what I knew of him, he took care of you very well. He was always there for you. You would always go to him, and he would always be available."

"Yes, that was Clay." I sighed, feeling the thick blanket of dead pine needles beneath me. "You wanna know why he was there for me? Because our parents weren't. I suspected they'd rather be at the casinos and bars than spend time at home. I wasn't even sure if they worked anymore or what they did for money, but somehow, we had food in the fridge and utilities on, even though we never seen them. Didn't even see them for the holidays. Over time, I preferred it that way. We thrived better alone. Like Clay used to say, 'good riddance.' But then Clay left too. And now what?"

Atem looked down at the camera in his hand as the light flickered on and lit up the surrounding space. Even though the fog was heavy, I no longer sensed lingering eyes watching us from the mist as I had before. I wasn't worried about the creeping figures either. My mind was more on my past and what that cabin made me relive.

I looked around the forest, trying to get my bearings. Judging from the thickness of the tress as a landmark, it seemed like we were in the middle of the forest somewhere, although the absence of smoke from the extinguished campfire made it difficult to gauge our exact location.

"Let's go." I waited until Atem pointed the camera toward the landscape in front of us.

"Look," he said, gesturing to the camera screen.

On camera, the trail stood out in contrast against the dark forest grounds. The path separated from the rest of the debris surrounding us and wound around the trees and further out of sight. We followed, although reluctant to know where it would lead us next, but there was no other way to go that looked like it would lead us out.

My mind wouldn't stop replaying the fear and confusion on Zeke's face and his many attempts to bring a smile to mine. No, he wasn't the best boyfriend. In fact, he was a shitty boyfriend, but there were moments he tried to lighten my days. Although rare, whenever in my presence, he tried to keep things positive. I could give him that much.

And Felicity too. She didn't have all the qualities of a best friend, but one thing I appreciated was her honesty. Her outspokenness and genuineness were just some things about her no one could take away. She may have been clumsy, or even hurtful, but at the end of the day, she didn't have a problem keeping it real.

Hiding that she and Zeke were messing around was one thing, but covering up that she may have killed someone because of her own recklessness had to be difficult for someone so open. If she somehow survived these woods, I hope she would find the courage to do what she does best and come clean about her involvement to the police. It would probably do wonders for her mental state.

I looked at Atem as he aimed the camera around the woods to spot anything hidden from the naked eye. He was more like me than I realized. We were going through a similar situation with grief. Did that have something to do with our journey?

I tapped Atem's shoulder to get his attention. "I think you were meant to be here with me during my spiritual journey."

He paused and turned to meet my stare. Tears glistened in the surrounding light as they hovered on his eyelids. "Because we both lost people we cared about?"

I nodded. "We're a lot alike. We just handle our pain differently. Maybe that's why you picked up filming, the same reason I picked up writing. To escape."

He slowly nodded, agreeing. "I think you're right. It always felt good to make my world and wallow in it. It beats dealing with the shit the real world throws at us."

His lips trembled, and suddenly I longed for what he needed. I wrapped my arms around his torso, tucking my face into his neck, fighting back my own tears. He returned the hug, embracing me with one arm. The weight of his body as he melded into me was emotionally overbearing, and I finally purged and allow my tears to break through the dam I had in place. Even though my sobs caused my face to turn puffy and crimson rusty red drenched my shirt, I continued to hold on to him even when his body trembled as he sobbed.

He didn't have to vocalize how much he missed his parents. I could feel it in the way he wrapped his second arm around me and held on. I imagined he squeezed me the way he had his mom and dad in the moments before they left this world, hugging them as if he knew it would be the last time.

I didn't want to let go. The warmth and comfort exchanged between us was inviting. I squeezed harder. "I don't want to let go."

"Me neither," he confirmed, and he didn't.

For what seemed like forever, we stood in the middle of the foggy woods, in the middle of the unknown, and held onto each other as if our lives depended on it. Thankful there had been nothing to prevent us from falling deeper into the comfort we both so desperately needed.

As his warmth calmed me, I looked up at the distant glimmer of light that shined through the haze from afar. The light didn't move and flicker like the campfire which the wind had blown out, and it shined bright and steady, unlike the warm porch light of the ranger station. It had to be the car's headlights, slightly distorted by the heavy fog.

Finally, I broke the hug. We avoided eye contact as if wanting desperately to go on, as if the weeping and the heartache didn't exist.

"There's a light up there." I pointed toward the area.

"Good." Atem nodded, probably just as relieved to change the subject as we were to find an exit. "Let's get the hell out of this forest and figure out a plan."

With those words, Clay's letter entered my mind. The image of the paper once rested neatly in my notebook, the ripped sliver now left behind, and the blood-spattered sheet that was mercilessly displayed on the bodies of the unsettling figures.

"You're right about a plan." I nodded, readying myself for the plan that suddenly occurred to me. "I think our aim is to find the page that had Clay's letter on it."

"His suicide note?" Atem didn't look convinced. "You sure?"

"Why wouldn't I be sure?" I counted on my fingers how many times that sheet of paper was in our presence, yet so far away. "No matter where we found it, nailed to the post of the tree or to one of those creatures, it would move every time I tried to grab it. It's as if something is urging me to go after it."

"Okay," Atem said, finally coming around to my way of thinking. "So, all we have to do is get hold of the paper and then all this is over?"

"I hope so." But even I wasn't so sure. "That seems too easy, huh?"

"A bit."

I scratched my temple as the fog surrounding us closed in. "I think the letter is just as important as the rest of the notebook."

"Should we go back to read it again?" He cocked his head as he waited for my answer.

"Of course not," my voice raised with irritation. "Are you crazy? Did you see what reading from it done to me? No telling what damaged it caused. You want me to die? To stroke out or bleed to death?" I pinched the top of my shirt in my fingers, bringing attention to the dried and rust-colored blood that had soaked and stained it.

"No, Ima, I don't want you to die." He scoffed. "You already know that. I'm just trying to figure out some sort of solution."

I scanned the immediate area. Mist, trees, and darkness overtook everything. "As we're looking for the page to get us out of here, we need to keep an eye out for Zeke and Felicity, too."

We ignored the twisting and winding trail visible only through the lens of the camera and walked straight toward the light in the distance. The closer we got, the more confident I became it was the car's headlights. The light on the camera Atem held helped guide us through the abundant foliage, while the camera footage shown a straight and clear path toward the light. It was almost as if the forest shifted and changed to its liking.

For some strange reason, I didn't feel the need to cower from invisible eyes watching us. In fact, I knew the trail we were on was safe. I frown at the thought of not expecting danger after the things we've witnessed. The feeling stuck with me.

"Something's changed." I narrowed my eyes suspiciously as we approached the car. "It's weird, but doesn't it feel like something's off?"

"A bit," Atem agreed. "Like... calmer or something?"

"The calm before the storm?" I looked around, waiting for my eyes to connect with something out of place. "Do you remember anything else about the outline? Since we can't read from it, try to remember certain things about it to help us out."

Atem shook his head. "All I can think of is the Hanged Man part. I thought whoever wrote that line was an asshole to be so insensitive to your feelings. I couldn't even imagine you writing those words."

"Exactly." I nodded, just as we made it back to the car and its beaming headlights. The other camera was still in the front seat, taking the place of Felicity. The firepit sat cold, and the charred wood inside didn't even smolder as if it had never been ablaze.

My notebook was where we left it. On the ground, in the spotlight of the headlight beam as if on center stage. I stared, trying to find the courage to look through its pages but only having the courage to protect it from damage or harm. I gathered the book in my arms, examining the outside of it to ensure we did not damage it in any other way.

"I can try reading from it again," Atem suggested. "Unless it won't make a difference."

"I think the notebook gave us everything we need to know about how to get through this night and get out of here." I remembered the parts of the outline I had already read. "Foreshadowing."

"Okay," Atem lifted a curious eyebrow. "What about it?"

"Every author uses foreshadow to hint at important things to come. So far, there were the references to wolves."

"No, that was just a red herring," Atem said with confidence. "Wolves have nothing to do with this and are probably more symbolic than anything. The hanging sign on the door of the ranger station is much more significant foreshadowing."

"You're right," I nodded excitedly, realizing he was on the right track. "What else could be foreshadowing and what could be red herrings?"

"The water bottles in the car?" He pointed out.

"Yes." I looked through the busted window at the pee-filled plastic bottles. "I thought about them at the beginning of the trip, but didn't think they would come into play with Zeke."

"Aw," Atem groaned, pinching the sides of his nose in disgust. "I'm so sorry, Zeke."

"The phones?" I pointed out.

"Keeping them locked in the glove box?"

"Yeah, we did that for no distractions..." I shrugged. "Maybe that was foreshadowing us not being able to contact anyone."

"Zeke and Felicity's confession?" Atem asked.

"What does that have to do with anything?" I crossed my arms over my chest, reliving the betrayal. "I should have known. They rode up here together. They went back to the car together when she made excuses about needing help to get her stuff. Didn't you say she was there when you asked Zeke to come?"

Atem nodded. "I'm sorry."

"I don't know why you're apologizing." I sighed and bowed my head. "Me and Zeke weren't working out, anyway. Why'd you think I didn't invite him to come? He's been distant for a while already. There were times I would sit and wonder why I wouldn't just break up with him. It was obvious he was thinking the same thing. Honestly, I hate that he's been through so much while out here. No one deserves what he and Felicity went through. I hate thinking that, somehow, I caused his death."

"No one deserves it, but how are you so sure what happened to them is because of something you did instead of something they did?"

"And what about us?" I looked into Atem's worried eyes. "We're not off the hook. Which one of us is next, huh?"

"I don't want to think about it." He bowed his head, turning slightly away from my stare.

"I'm sure we're not so innocent either," I admitted. "Not only have I let Clay down, but I've also hurt everyone around me because of my hatred and grief."

"That's not true, Ima." He locked eyes with me to make his point. "Just think about those monsters back at the cabin. One was a version of Clay, your beloved brother. The others were versions of my parents, people who loved me. These things aren't here to punish us. It's something else entirely."

I slowly nodded, letting his words sink in. He had a point. Something I hadn't considered before. Why would Clay want to hurt me? Why would he want me to suffer and torment me continually? My brother loved me just as much as I loved him. He was more of a parent and companion than either of our actual parents. Siblings needed each other. So, it made little sense that he would want me to go through this hell.

"I think we need to find Clay's missing page from the notebook. That's what's missing, like a piece to the puzzle we need to complete."

I was more than sure that Clay's letter was important and had something to do with our freedom. It wouldn't have gone missing, torn right out of my notebook, and plastered on the trees of the forest or on the bodies of the creatures if it wasn't. They pinned it to the hanging man's back, and that body looked a lot like Clay. It had to mean something.

"Where do we go?" Atem asked, looking around the dark and claustrophobic forest. Only the contrast of the black silhouettes of the pine trees against the dark blue sky gave me a sense of ease.

"I don't know." I shrugged, hoping to spot a clue on where to go next.

And on cue, the headlights went out and the sound of the car's engine going off made the silence of the forest so loud. In the darkness, I snuggled up to Atem, who still carried the camera in one hand. He lifted it immediately to light our surroundings.

The fog didn't let up, still as condensed as when it first crawled over the foot of the trees.

"I'm scared," Atem's warm breath grazed my earlobe.

I nodded. "Obviously."

"No, I'm terrified," he went on. "Don't you feel it?" He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Something's watching us."

I stared around the mist covered wood. The light from the camera only allowed us to see the trees and brush immediately across the dirt road. But a flash of lightning cut through the sky, lighting up our surroundings before the crack of thunder shook my bones. But what shook them harder wasn't the noise, but what the spark of light had illuminated.

In that moment, most of the trees quaked and trembled with dozens of swinging, hanging bodies suspended in various forms. Like earlier, when Zeke and I got lost out there, each body hung from different limbs, some with both feet, others by their necks, with their arms twisted behind their heads. The most gruesome were the bodies that hung lifeless by only one limb, high in the tree, swaying in the wind like a macabre wind chime.

Fright stung me like a venomous insect, pin-pricking my skin and causing an uncontrollable sense of unease.

"I don't like this," I cried. I stared at the car to calculate how safe it would be to be inside it. Felicity being pulled through the car window came to mind, and I remembered the car wasn't a sanctuary. "Let's try to find the keys to Felicity's car," I whispered, as if the entities would hear. "Zeke said they were somewhere in his bag." Then I remembered the trouble we had looking for them. "We tried but couldn't find them, so never mind."

"The ranger station?" Atem suggested.

"Yes!" I nodded excitedly, thinking of the four walls that could provide protection, even if brief. "Zeke got the door open. Maybe we can go there for safety. Get out of the open."

We headed in the station's direction, walking as fast as our feet would take us while remaining vigilant. My eyes kept wandering toward the line of trees, and although with my naked eye I only saw leaves and branches peeking through the fog, I knew if the lightning struck again or if Atem turned his camera toward the area, we would see the gruesome sight we hoped to avoid.

My heart pattered out of my chest from how fast we walked and the fear running through me like adrenaline. But before I knew it, we were standing before the ranger station. The once welcoming light on the porch was no longer shining, and the door remained wide open with nothing but blackness staring back at us.

Atem raised the camera and its light to the opening. The light illuminated the furniture and items, but in the corner near the box of lost and found objects, someone had pinned a familiar sheet of paper to the wall.

"There!" I pointed. "We found the letter!"

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