Mara Holbrook’s fingers hovered over the shutter release, her breath caught in her throat. Through her telephoto lens, a rare Sierra Nevada red fox peered out from behind a gnarled juniper, its russet fur a stark contrast against the snow-dusted ground. She’d been tracking this elusive creature for weeks, braving icy pre-dawn hikes and endless hours of stillness.
Just as she prepared to capture the shot, a distant cry shattered the silence. The fox’s ears pricked up, and in a heartbeat, it vanished into the underbrush.
“Damn it,” Mara muttered, lowering her camera. She strained to listen, wondering if she’d imagined the sound. But there it was again—faint, but unmistakably human.
For a moment, she considered ignoring it. This far into the backcountry of Inyo National Forest, it was probably just some unprepared hiker who’d wandered off-trail. Not her problem. Not anymore.
The cry came again, more desperate this time.
With a sigh, Mara slung her camera over her shoulder and began picking her way through the rugged terrain. As she navigated around a steep drop-off, memories she’d long suppressed bubbled to the surface. The crack of splintering ice. The echo of her own frantic shouts. The crushing weight of failure.
She shook her head, forcing the images away. That was then. This was now. Just find whoever was making all that racket, point them in the right direction, and get back to work.
Twenty minutes later, Mara rounded a bend and spotted a figure huddled at the base of a towering ponderosa pine. It was a young woman, probably mid to late twenties, with a shock of turquoise-dyed hair peeking out from beneath a woolen hat. Her left leg was stretched out at an awkward angle, and even from a distance, Mara could see the pain etched across her face.
“Hey there,” Mara called out, trying to keep her voice neutral. “Looks like you could use a hand.”
The woman’s head snapped up, relief flooding her features. “Oh thank god,” she said. “I thought I was going to die out here.”
Mara resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she approached. “What happened?”
“I was trying to get a better view for my Instagram and slipped on some loose gravel,” the woman explained, gesturing to a precarious-looking outcropping above them. “I think I twisted my ankle. Maybe broke it? It hurts like hell.”
Mara crouched down to examine the injury. The ankle was swollen and starting to bruise, but she didn’t see any obvious deformity that would indicate a break. “Can you wiggle your toes?”
The woman complied, wincing. “Yeah, but it hurts.”
“Probably just a bad sprain then,” Mara said, reaching for her pack. “I’ve got some tape we can use to stabilize it. What’s your name?”
“Lena. Lena Chen.”
As Mara worked on wrapping the ankle, she peppered Lena with questions. She learned that the young woman was attempting a solo trek of the John Muir Trail—her first real backpacking trip.
“I wanted to prove to myself I could do it, you know?” Lena said. “Push my limits, find myself in nature, all that stuff. Guess I found my limits pretty quick, huh?”
Mara bit back a lecture about proper preparation and the dangers of hiking alone. Instead, she focused on the task at hand. “There,” she said, securing the last bit of tape. “That should help, but you’re not going to be able to hike out of here on your own. Do you have a satellite phone or personal locator beacon?”
Lena shook her head. “No, I… I didn’t think I’d need one. My cell doesn’t have any signal out here.”
Of course not, Mara thought. She glanced at her watch, noting the lengthening shadows. Making it back to her cabin before nightfall would be tight, especially supporting Lena’s weight. And in her condition, the hiker wouldn’t last long in the plummeting temperatures.
“Alright,” Mara said, standing up. “There’s a ranger station about four miles from here. If we move quickly, we should be able to make it before dark. Think you can manage that?”
Lena nodded, determination replacing the fear in her eyes. “I’ll do whatever it takes. Thank you so much for finding me. I don’t even know your name.”
“Mara,” she replied, helping Lena to her feet. “And don’t thank me yet. We’ve still got a long way to go.”
As they set off, Mara couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being pulled back into a world she’d sworn to leave behind. The forest seemed to whisper around them, stirring up ghosts she thought she’d buried long ago.
Ethan Reeves stood on the worn wooden porch of the ranger station, scanning the treeline with a pair of high-powered binoculars. The sun had dipped below the jagged peaks, painting the sky in brilliant hues of orange and pink. Any other evening, he might have paused to appreciate the view. Tonight, his jaw was set in a grim line.
“Come on, Mara,” he muttered. “Where are you?”
He’d received her terse radio call over an hour ago. Two words: “Injured hiker.” Then nothing but static. He’d tried hailing her several times since, but got no response.
A twig snapped in the gathering gloom, and Ethan’s hand instinctively went to the holstered pistol at his hip. He relaxed slightly as two figures emerged from the shadows: Mara, supporting a limping woman with vibrantly-colored hair.
“Jesus, Mara,” Ethan said, rushing down the steps to help. “I was about to send out a search party.”
“Sorry,” she grunted, clearly exhausted. “Radio died. This is Lena. Sprained ankle, maybe some mild dehydration and exposure.”
Ethan nodded, taking Lena’s other arm. “Let’s get you inside where it’s warm. I’m Ethan, the ranger on duty.”
Once they had Lena settled on a cot with a blanket and some water, Ethan turned to Mara. She stood awkwardly by the door, as if unsure whether to stay or bolt back into the night.
“You look like you could use a cup of coffee,” he said. “Still take it black?”
A flicker of surprise crossed Mara’s face. “You remember how I take my coffee?”
Ethan shrugged, moving to the small kitchenette. “Hard to forget. You used to say life was too short for cream and sugar.”
“Yeah, well,” Mara said, accepting the steaming mug he offered. “A lot’s changed since then.”
An uncomfortable silence stretched between them, broken only by the quiet whir of the space heater and Lena’s occasional sniffles from across the room.
“Listen, Mara,” Ethan began. “I know things ended… badly. But I want you to know—”
“Don’t,” Mara cut him off. “Just don’t, okay? I did what needed to be done tonight. That’s it. I’m not looking to rehash ancient history or rekindle old friendships. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as the sun’s up.”
Ethan opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it. He’d seen that stubborn set to Mara’s jaw too many times before. Pushing now would only drive her further away.
“Alright,” he said instead. “At least let me give you a ride back to your cabin in the morning. It’s the least I can do.”
Mara seemed about to refuse, then glanced down at her mud-caked boots. “Fine,” she relented. “But I’m taking the bed in the back room. You can have the couch.”
As she disappeared into the small bedroom, Ethan allowed himself a small smile. Same old Mara. Always calling the shots, even when she was doing you a favor.
He settled onto the worn leather couch, listening to the wind picking up outside. Something about this didn’t sit right with him. In the five years since Mara had retreated into near-total isolation, she’d made it clear she wanted nothing to do with search and rescue operations. What had made her break that self-imposed exile tonight?
And why did he have the nagging feeling that this was just the beginning of something much bigger?
Mara woke with a start, heart pounding. In the disorienting darkness, it took her a moment to remember where she was. The ranger station. Ethan. The injured hiker.
She fumbled for her phone, squinting at the too-bright screen. 3:17 AM. With a sigh, she swung her legs over the side of the narrow bed. Sleep had always been elusive for her, but tonight it seemed determined to evade her entirely.
As quietly as she could, Mara made her way to the kitchenette. Maybe some herbal tea would help quiet her racing thoughts. She filled the kettle and set it on the hotplate, then leaned against the counter, staring out the window into the inky blackness beyond.
A flicker of movement caught her eye. She blinked, unsure if she’d imagined it. But there it was again—a pinprick of light, weaving between the trees. Too steady to be a firefly, too erratic for a flashlight.
Mara’s brow furrowed. What the hell?
The kettle began to whistle, startling her. She quickly took it off the heat, not wanting to wake the others. As she turned back to the window, the strange light had vanished.
“You’re jumping at shadows,” she muttered to herself. Lack of sleep and too many memories dredged up, that’s all it was.
“Mara?” Ethan’s sleep-roughened voice made her jump. He stood in the doorway, hair mussed, concern etched on his face. “Everything okay?”
“Fine,” she said, perhaps too quickly. “Just couldn’t sleep. Thought I saw something outside, but it was probably nothing.”
Ethan moved to the window, peering out into the darkness. “What kind of something?”
Mara hesitated. It sounded ridiculous now that she had to say it out loud. “I don’t know. A light, maybe? Moving through the trees.”
To her surprise, Ethan didn’t laugh or dismiss her concerns. Instead, his expression grew serious. “That’s the third report I’ve had of strange lights in the past two weeks. Hikers swearing they saw unexplained phenomena out there.”
“Come on, Ethan,” Mara scoffed. “You’re not buying into some UFO conspiracy theory, are you?”
He shook his head. “Of course not. But something weird is going on out there. I’ve found trash left behind in areas that should be pristine. Bootprints that don’t match any of our standard-issue treads. And now these lights…”
Mara felt a chill that had nothing to do with the pre-dawn air. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I think someone’s out there who shouldn’t be. Someone who doesn’t want to be found.”
Before Mara could respond, a blood-curdling scream split the night. They both whirled toward the source—the main room where Lena had been sleeping.
They burst through the door to find the young woman thrashing on her cot, eyes wide with terror. “No!” she cried. “Please, don’t—”
“Lena!” Ethan called, rushing to her side. “Lena, wake up. You’re safe. It’s just a nightmare.”
Slowly, awareness crept back into Lena’s eyes. She blinked rapidly, looking around the room in confusion. “I… I’m sorry,” she stammered. “It felt so real.”
“It’s okay,” Ethan soothed. “You’re safe here. What did you see?”
Lena shuddered. “I was back on the trail. But something was chasing me. A shadow, with glowing eyes. It kept whispering my name, telling me I didn’t belong here. That none of us did.”
Mara and Ethan exchanged a look. “It was just a dream,” Mara said, trying to keep her voice steady. “Probably brought on by the stress of your injury and being in an unfamiliar place.”
But even as she said the words, Mara couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. The light she’d seen, Ethan’s reports of strange occurrences, and now Lena’s vivid nightmare… It was all adding up to something she didn’t want to face.
The wilderness she’d sought refuge in for the past five years suddenly felt a lot less safe.
As the first rays of dawn began to paint the sky, Mara stood on the porch of the ranger station, clutching a steaming mug of coffee. She breathed in the crisp mountain air, trying to clear her head after the long, unsettling night.
The creak of the screen door announced Ethan’s presence before he spoke. “I radioed for a medic to come check on Lena,” he said, joining her at the railing. “Should be here in a couple of hours.”
Mara nodded, not turning to look at him. “Good. Then I can get back to my cabin and my work.”
Ethan was quiet for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was hesitant. “Listen, Mara. I know you want to put all this behind you, but—”
“But what?” she snapped, finally meeting his gaze. “You think one rescue means I’m ready to jump back into all of it? The sleepless nights, the constant pressure, the crushing weight when things go wrong?”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” Ethan said, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. “But you can’t deny that something strange is happening out here. And whether you like it or not, you’re already involved.”
Mara opened her mouth to argue, but the words died on her lips as movement in the tree line caught her attention. A figure darted between the pines, too quickly for her to make out any details.
“Did you see that?” she asked, setting down her mug and leaning forward.
Ethan followed her gaze, squinting into the shadows. “See what?”
But whatever it was had vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Mara shook her head, frustrated. “I don’t know. It looked like… someone watching us.”
Ethan’s hand went to his hip, where his service weapon rested. “Stay here,” he said, his voice low and serious. “I’m going to check it out.”
“Like hell,” Mara retorted, already moving toward the steps. “I’m coming with you.”
For a moment, it looked like Ethan might argue. Then a wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Just like old times, huh?”
Mara didn’t return the smile. “Let’s just get this over with.”
They made their way into the forest, moving as quietly as possible over the carpet of pine needles. Mara’s senses were on high alert, every snapping twig and rustling leaf setting her nerves on edge.
After about ten minutes of fruitless searching, Ethan held up a hand, signaling for her to stop. He crouched down, examining something on the ground.
“What is it?” Mara whispered, coming up beside him.
Ethan pointed to a clear bootprint in a patch of soft earth. “This is fresh. Within the last hour, I’d say.”
Mara studied the print. The tread pattern was unfamiliar—not a standard hiking boot, and definitely not part of the park service’s gear. “Could be a lost hiker,” she suggested, not quite believing it herself.
Ethan shook his head. “A lost hiker would be sticking to the trails, not skulking around in the woods at dawn. No, whoever left this print knew exactly what they were doing.”
A twig snapped somewhere behind them, and they both whirled around. For a split second, Mara caught a glimpse of a dark figure retreating deeper into the forest.
“Hey!” Ethan shouted, already breaking into a run. “Stop! Park ranger!”
Mara hesitated for only a moment before following. They crashed through the underbrush, gaining on the fleeing figure. Just as they were about to close the gap, the ground seemed to disappear beneath Mara’s feet.
She tumbled forward, crying out in surprise and pain as she rolled down a steep embankment. Branches whipped at her face and arms as she desperately tried to slow her descent.
Finally, she came to a stop at the bottom of the ravine, the breath knocked out of her. She lay there for a moment, dazed, cataloging her injuries. Nothing seemed broken, but she’d have an impressive collection of bruises to show for her recklessness.
“Mara!” Ethan’s voice called from somewhere above. “Mara, are you alright?”
She pushed herself to a sitting position, wincing. “Yeah,” she called back. “I’m okay. Just banged up.”
As her vision cleared, Mara froze. Directly in front of her, half-hidden by a fallen log, was a battered metal lockbox. She reached out with a trembling hand, brushing away leaves and dirt.
“Ethan,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You need to see this.”
It took him a few minutes to make his way down to her, and by then, Mara had managed to pry open the rusted latch. Inside the box was a jumble of papers, a handheld radio, and what looked like a map of the surrounding wilderness.
Ethan crouched beside her, his face grim as he examined the contents. “This isn’t good,” he muttered.
Mara pulled out one of the papers—a manifest of some kind, listing names and dates. Her blood ran cold as she realized what she was looking at.
“These are all missing hikers,” she said. “Going back years. Some of these cases were never solved.”
Ethan nodded, his jaw clenched. “Whoever we saw up there, whatever’s going on in these woods—it’s bigger than we thought. And a hell of a lot more dangerous.”
As if to punctuate his words, a low, menacing growl echoed through the ravine. Mara and Ethan’s heads snapped up in unison, scanning the ridge above them.
There, silhouetted against the brightening sky, stood a massive figure. Too large to be human, too upright to be a bear. As they watched in stunned silence, it threw back its head and let out a bone-chilling howl.
Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the creature vanished into the trees.
Mara and Ethan looked at each other, equal parts fear and disbelief etched on their faces. Whatever was happening in the Inyo National Forest, it was clear that the whispering pines held secrets far darker and stranger than either of them could have imagined.
And somehow, they had stumbled right into the heart of it all.
The trek back to the ranger station was tense and silent. Mara’s mind raced, trying to make sense of everything they’d seen and discovered. The bootprints, the lockbox full of disturbing documents, and that… thing on the ridge. It was too much to process.
As they approached the clearing where the station stood, Ethan suddenly threw out an arm, stopping Mara in her tracks. “Wait,” he hissed, eyes narrowed.
Mara followed his gaze and felt her heart drop. The front door of the station hung open, swaying slightly in the breeze.
“Lena,” Mara breathed.
They approached cautiously, Ethan drawing his weapon. The interior of the station was a mess—drawers pulled out, papers scattered across the floor. And Lena was nowhere to be seen.
“Damn it,” Ethan muttered, holstering his gun. “I shouldn’t have left her alone.”
Mara was already moving, searching for any sign of what had happened. She paused by the cot where Lena had been sleeping, crouching down to examine something on the floor.
“Ethan,” she called. “Look at this.”
He joined her, frowning at the object she’d found—a small, intricately carved wooden figure. It depicted some sort of humanoid creature with elongated limbs and an oddly proportioned head.
“I’ve seen these before,” Ethan said, his voice tight. “They started showing up around the same time the strange sightings began. Hikers would find them on the trail or near their campsites.”
Mara turned the figure over in her hands, a chill running down her spine. “What does it mean?”
Before Ethan could answer, the radio on his belt crackled to life. “This is Ranger Reeves,” he said, unclipping it. “Go ahead.”
A burst of static, then a familiar voice came through. “Ethan? It’s Dr. Harriet Chen from county search and rescue. I’m en route to your location to check on an injured hiker. ETA about 30 minutes.”
Ethan and Mara exchanged a look. “Copy that, Dr. Chen,” Ethan replied. “But we’ve got a situation here. The hiker is missing, and there are signs of a possible struggle.”
There was a pause before Dr. Chen’s voice came back, tense now. “Understood. I’m calling in additional resources. Don’t do anything until backup arrives.”
“Negative,” Ethan said firmly. “We can’t wait. Whoever took her already has too much of a head start.”
“Ethan, that’s an order. Do not—”
He clicked off the radio, cutting her off mid-sentence. Mara raised an eyebrow. “Ignoring direct orders now? That doesn’t sound like the by-the-book Ethan Reeves I remember.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Yeah, well. A lot’s changed in five years.”
Mara wanted to press further, to understand what had happened to turn the strait-laced ranger she’d known into someone willing to buck authority. But there wasn’t time. Lena was out there somewhere, possibly hurt, definitely scared.
“So what’s the plan?” she asked instead.
Ethan moved to a locked cabinet, pulling out additional gear—first aid supplies, extra batteries, a more powerful flashlight. “We follow their trail. The ground’s soft from the rain two days ago. If we’re lucky, we can catch up to them before they get too far into the backcountry.”
Mara nodded, already checking her own pack. A nagging voice in the back of her mind screamed that this was a terrible idea, that she should turn around and head back to the safety of her isolated cabin. But a stronger part of her knew she couldn’t walk away. Not again.
“Ethan,” she said softly as they prepared to head out. “What aren’t you telling me? About the changes around here, about you?”
He paused, his back to her. For a long moment, she thought he might not answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.
“Remember Thomas Blackwood? The experienced backpacker who went missing three years ago?”
Mara nodded. The case had made national news—a skilled outdoorsman vanishing without a trace in a well-traveled area of the forest.
“We found him,” Ethan continued. “Or what was left of him. About a year after he disappeared.” He turned to face her, his eyes haunted. “Mara, what we saw… it wasn’t natural. His body had been… changed somehow. And the official report was buried. They told us it was just a bear attack, end of story.”
A chill ran down Mara’s spine. “Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because you need to understand what we might be walking into,” Ethan said grimly. “This isn’t just about finding a lost hiker anymore. There’s something in these woods, something dangerous. And I think it’s been here a lot longer than any of us realized.”
Mara absorbed this, her mind reeling. Part of her wanted to dismiss it as paranoid fantasy, but the evidence was mounting. The strange sightings, the unexplained disappearances, the creature they’d glimpsed in the ravine…
“Okay,” she said finally. “Then we better get moving. Lena doesn’t have much time.”
As they set out into the deepening shadows of the forest, Mara couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. The whispering pines seemed to close in around them, hiding secrets that had remained buried for far too long.
Whatever they were about to face, she knew their lives would never be the same again.
The forest grew denser as Mara and Ethan pushed deeper into the backcountry, following the faint trail left by Lena’s captors. The lush greenery that had seemed so peaceful just days ago now felt oppressive, hiding potential dangers behind every trunk and boulder.
They moved as quickly as they dared, pausing occasionally for Ethan to check the signs of passage. Mara found herself impressed by how much his tracking skills had improved since their days working search and rescue together.
“You’ve been busy these past few years,” she commented as he crouched to examine a broken twig.
Ethan’s lips quirked in a humorless smile. “Had to be. Too many people going missing out here. Needed to up my game.”
A pang of guilt shot through Mara. While she’d been hiding from her past, Ethan had been out here, facing whatever horrors lurked in these woods alone.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I should have—”
“Don’t,” Ethan cut her off, straightening up. “You did what you needed to do. I get it.”
But there was a hardness in his eyes that told Mara he didn’t really understand. Not completely. Before she could press further, he held up a hand for silence.
Mara froze, straining her ears. At first, she heard nothing but the rustle of leaves in the breeze. Then, faintly, she caught it—voices, drifting on the wind.
They exchanged a look, then began moving forward with renewed caution. As they crept closer, the voices became clearer. Mara could make out at least three distinct speakers, though their words were still indistinct.
Suddenly, Ethan grabbed her arm, pulling her down behind a fallen log. She was about to protest when she saw what had caught his attention.
Through a gap in the foliage, they could see a small clearing. Three figures stood there, dressed in what looked like a bizarre mix of modern outdoor gear and primitive furs. Their faces were obscured by crude masks made of wood and bone.
And there, bound and gagged at their feet, was Lena.
Mara’s heart raced as she took in the scene. The young hiker’s eyes were wide with terror, darting between her captors and the surrounding woods.
“We need to call for backup,” Mara whispered.
Ethan shook his head. “No signal out here. And even if there was, it would take hours for help to arrive.” His hand went to his holstered weapon. “We have to act now.”
Mara bit her lip, weighing their options. Two against three weren’t great odds, especially when they had no idea what these people were capable of. But Lena was running out of time.
Before she could voice her concerns, one of the masked figures spoke, his voice carrying clearly across the clearing.
“The offering must be made before moonrise,” he said. “The Old Ones grow impatient.”
A chill ran down Mara’s spine. Offering? Old Ones? This was veering into territory far beyond simple kidnapping.
“We can’t wait,” Ethan hissed. “On my signal, I’ll create a distraction. You get to Lena and free her. Then run like hell for the ranger station. Don’t look back, no matter what you hear. Understood?”
Mara wanted to argue, to point out all the ways this half-baked plan could go wrong. But the determined set of Ethan’s jaw told her it would be useless. She nodded reluctantly.
Ethan took a deep breath, then stood up, stepping into the clearing with his weapon drawn. “Park ranger!” he shouted. “Hands where I can see them!”
The masked figures whirled, clearly caught off guard. For a moment, no one moved.
Then all hell broke loose.
Two of the kidnappers lunged for Ethan while the third grabbed Lena, hauling her to her feet. Mara sprinted from her hiding place, adrenaline coursing through her veins.
She tackled the man holding Lena, sending them both sprawling. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ethan grappling with the other two, his gun knocked from his grasp.
Mara scrambled to her knees, fumbling with the ropes binding Lena’s wrists. “It’s okay,” she panted. “We’re going to get you out of here.”
A blood-curdling shriek pierced the air, and Mara’s head snapped up. One of the masked figures had produced a wicked-looking knife and was advancing on Ethan, who was struggling with the other attacker.
Without thinking, Mara launched herself at the knife-wielder, tackling him from behind. They hit the ground hard, the knife skittering away into the underbrush.
She had only a moment to feel relieved before a crushing weight slammed into her back. The man beneath her bucked, throwing her off. She rolled, gasping for air, and found herself staring up at a nightmarish visage.
The mask had been knocked askew in the scuffle, revealing what lay beneath. But it wasn’t a human face that leered down at her. The creature’s skin was a sickly gray-green, its eyes bulbous and entirely black. A lipless mouth opened in a snarl, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth.
Mara’s mind reeled, unable to process what she was seeing. This couldn’t be real. It had to be a trick of the light, a hallucination brought on by stress and fear.
But as the creature’s clawed hand closed around her throat, she knew with horrible certainty that this was all too real.
Spots danced at the edges of her vision as she struggled for air. In the background, she could hear Ethan shouting, the sounds of a desperate struggle. But it all seemed far away, unimportant compared to the primal terror of the thing pinning her down.
Just as darkness began to close in, a deafening roar shook the clearing. The pressure on Mara’s throat suddenly vanished as her attacker was violently yanked away.
She rolled onto her side, coughing and gulping in great lungfuls of air. Through watering eyes, she saw a massive shape tearing through the clearing. It moved with impossible speed and strength, tossing the masked figures aside like rag dolls.
In the chaos, Mara felt someone grabbing her arm. She tensed, ready to fight, but it was only Ethan. His face was bloody, but his eyes burned with determination.
“We have to go,” he shouted over the din. “Now!”
Mara nodded, scrambling to her feet. She saw Lena nearby, free of her bonds and frozen in terror. Together, they hauled the shell-shocked hiker up and began half-dragging, half-carrying her away from the melee.
As they fled into the gathering darkness, Mara risked one glance back. What she saw would haunt her dreams for years to come.
The creature that had come to their rescue stood illuminated by shafts of fading sunlight. It was easily eight feet tall, covered in shaggy fur, with a vaguely ape-like build. But its face… its face was almost human, twisted into an expression of primal rage.
For a split second, its eyes met Mara’s. In that moment, she felt a jolt of recognition. Not of the creature itself, but of something deeper, more instinctual. A connection to something ancient and powerful that defied explanation.
Then Ethan was pulling her forward, and the moment was lost. They plunged into the shadows of the forest, leaving behind the sounds of inhuman shrieks and splintering bones.
As they ran, Mara’s mind raced. What had they just witnessed? What were those masked creatures? And perhaps most pressingly, what was the thing that had saved them?
One thing was certain—the Inyo National Forest held secrets far darker and stranger than she could have ever imagined. And somehow, she and Ethan had stumbled into the middle of it all.
The whispering pines seemed to close in around them as they fled, and Mara couldn’t shake the feeling that their ordeal was far from over. In fact, she suspected it had only just begun.
They ran until their lungs burned and their legs threatened to give out, the sounds of the clearing long since faded behind them. Finally, Ethan called for a halt, guiding them into the shelter of a rocky overhang.
Mara sank to the ground, her whole body trembling with exhaustion and residual adrenaline. Beside her, Lena curled into a tight ball, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
“What…” Mara panted, looking up at Ethan. “What the hell was that back there?”
Ethan leaned against the rock face, his expression grim. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Not entirely. But I’ve suspected for a while now that there was something… unnatural in these woods.”
M