Author's notes – going forward? Keep an eye out for the first line of dialogue, in every new part. That will tell you who the story is about, and where we're going.

Part One

Chapter One

11 months ago

The roar of a passing truck jolted me out of my daydream and rattled the chain-link fence behind me as I waited by the side of the road. It had been a long day. We'd started back at school on Monday, while the seniors were still enjoying the extended college holidays and weren't due back for another two weeks. Winter had really set in though, making for a cold July. Even in the afternoon sun, I couldn't get warm. But I was only there waiting for another few minutes when a maroon-coloured car approached and I stood up, snagging my backpack on one of the broken chain-links.

Jason pulled into the spot in front of me, leaned over and wound down the window. "Hey stranger," he grinned.

"Goin' my way?" I laughed. I pulled open the passenger door, threw my backpack onto the floor and climbed in beside him. "Good to see you."

"You too," Jason replied, and we began making our way through the after-school traffic. "I could've just picked you up from school."

I glanced to the city's major shopping centre in the rear-view mirror. "Yeah, but I wanted to stop into K-mart," I said. "Lego has these new divers-themed sets," and I kicked at my backpack. "They have sharks and stingrays and little treasure chests. It's very cool."

"I thought you didn't buy that stuff anymore?"

"Around everyone else? I don't."

Jason smiled. "I think it's good you have a hobby that keeps you sane," he said. "Who cares what everyone else thinks? You should never apologise for who you are."

"It's not like who I am really matters anyway," I said softly.

Jason's expression hardened. "One day," he murmured, "I'm going to find the person who put that into your head and I'm going to tell them what I think of them."

We stopped at a red light. "So where are we heading?" I asked.

"Up the range," Jason replied, nodding to the mountains on the horizon. "I borrowed a book from one of my classmates at the end of last semester. She lives up in Maleny and I need to get it back to her before classes start again. Plus, it's my grandmother's birthday at the end of the month, right? I was in Montville a couple of weeks ago with Zac and Trini, and I saw the best present. But I didn't think to buy it at the time and the shop doesn't deliver. So I figured we could make an afternoon of it. Sound good?"

"Sounds great!" I replied.

The Sunshine Coast hinterland was half an hour's drive inland from the coast. Picturesque villages were dotted along winding mountain roads, looking out over rolling green hills, forested valleys, plunging waterfalls and well-travelled hiking trails. The range was a renowned tourist destination. The town of Flaxton had a model train display centre, Maleny boasted a bakery with the best jam and cream scones on the Sunshine Coast, while Montville had gourmet chocolate shops, five star restaurants and an ice-cream parlour with fifty flavours of milkshake.

"We can stop for food though, right?" I asked.

Jason grinned. "I imagined you'd want to."

We made good time as we headed west out of Caloundra, crossed over the highway and continued up the range. Traffic began to ease off, and we joked and laughed as we caught up on the day. Jason groaned when the latest Backstreet Boys song came on the radio and I turned the music up, but he sang along with me anyway. Once we were past a winery that was shaped like a gigantic barrel of wine, we turned left along a narrow road that led around the far side of the mountain.

"So where does this girl live?" I asked.

"Her name's Lana," Jason replied, slowing to overtake a horseback rider. "She lives with her family on a dairy farm. It should be easy to find. Apparently their house is across the road from a major national park."

Sure enough, we found the address a few minutes later, a lovely farmhouse set back past a wide green lawn, with a garage to the side and barns full of farming equipment in the distance. The gravel beneath the car tyres crunched as Jason pulled into the driveway and we climbed out of the car. The cool air made me shiver. I zipped up my jacket as Jason reached for his coat.

"You can feel that temperature difference," I said.

"They do have chilly nights up here," Jason nodded. But as he reached for the book on the back seat, I saw him wince in pain and clutch at his ribs.

"You okay?" I asked.

He immediately stepped away from the car, his pained expression gone. "Fine," he said quickly. "Just a bit sore. Missed my workout today, that's all."

I followed Jason up to the front door. His classmate soon stepped outside. Lana was about my height, with sandy blonde hair and a friendly smile.

"Jason!" she laughed. "I didn't expect to see you. Is this your brother?"

"This is my best friend Pete," Jason replied, and gave the textbook to Lana. "I brought this for you. I thought you might be missing it."

"Thanks," Lana said. "I was wondering where that had gotten to. But you didn't have to drive all the way up here, I'll be spending most of orientation week on campus."

"It's okay," Jason explained. "I had some errands to run, I thought I'd drop past. I'll see you next week."

"Sure thing," Lana replied, and turned to me. "It was lovely to meet you."

"You too," I said. As Lana disappeared inside the house, Jason and I headed for the car. Across the road, I saw Jason had been right. The gated entrance to one of the local national parks was facing us. But the carpark was deserted. Sweeping my gaze along the treeline, I saw why. Yellow tape had been wrapped around a couple of trees, blocking the entrance to one of the trails. There was nobody else around.

"That's weird," I said.

Jason turned to me. Weird had a funny habit of sharpening our senses. "What is it?" he asked.

I pointed across the street. "The trail's blocked off."

We made our way over and were soon standing in front of the barricade. I couldn't see anything past the tape. The shadowy trail continued along the mountainside for a few hundred metres before disappearing around a bend. Meanwhile, Jason had found the park information noticeboard, but couldn't see anything about the track closure. He wandered back over and shrugged.

"It doesn't say anything," he said. "I wonder why the trail's closed."

"Careful boys," came a voice. "Wouldn't want you to get hurt, would we?"

I jumped at the voice, and Jason glanced around to find the speaker. Standing in the shadows of a nearby fig tree was a man dressed in a park ranger uniform, with a pair of dark sunglasses shielding his eyes. He was a big guy, tall and solidly-built, and his shirt was stretched tight across his broad chest. The badge on his shirt identified him as Ranger Broxsen, and I swear he wasn't standing there thirty seconds ago.

"Sorry Ranger Broxsen," I said. "We didn't see you there."

"Do you know why the trail is shut?" Jason asked.

"A couple of gum trees have rotted through," the man replied in a deep, booming voice. "We don't want them falling on any hikers. Trail should be open again in," and he glanced up to the afternoon sky, "about three or four days. You should move along."

But as we climbed into Jason's car a minute later, the forest ranger's demeanour stayed in my mind. "Creepiest park ranger ever," I murmured.

"He probably doesn't talk to many people," Jason said. "But I bet he's great with wombats," and we both laughed. Still, Jason kept one eye on the shadowy figure in the rear-view mirror as we drove away.

We made a quick stop in Maleny ("Wow," Jason had mumbled, with jam smeared across his chin, "these really are the best scones on the Sunshine Coast!") before continuing north. A few minutes later, we arrived in Montville, passing an Irish pub and a famous German cuckoo-clock store before Jason found a park. The main street of Montville was built along the top of a ridge, with steep cliffs and sweeping views of the countryside on either side. The moon had risen over the horizon, while we could feel the temperature dropping as the sun dipped lower in the sky. Jason pointed to a shop down the street that seemed to be selling custom-made metal and timber homewares.

"I'll be in there," he said.

"Join you in a second. I just want to check out that bakery across the road."

After spending longer than I'd intended staring at glass cabinets full of delicious food, I headed back towards the shop Jason had indicated. As I stepped onto the front deck, I glanced to the opening hours printed on the door. But a line under that caught my eye, and my expression fell. 'Yes, We Deliver.'

Stepping inside, I spotted Jase by the front counter, with the female shopkeeper currently putting through a sale. Seeing me arrive, Jason waved me over. Before I could say anything, he pointed to the paper bag in my hand.

"What did you get?" he asked.

"Coconut strawberry slice with jam," I replied.

"Nice."

"What about you, did they have what you wanted?"

Jason pointed to the counter. Sitting there was an antique metal lantern, looking like it'd been plucked straight off a steam engine from the 1930s.

"A railway lantern?" I asked, then remembered. "Your grandmother used to work for Queensland Rail. You told me that once."

"All her life," Jason said proudly.

"That is a lovely gift," the shopkeeper smiled. Finishing the sale, she returned Jason's credit card. "Thanks for dropping by."

I nodded out to the street. "It's busy this afternoon," I said. "Do you get less people through when the trails are closed?"

The shopkeeper blinked. "I'm sorry, what do you mean?" she asked.

"We ran into a park ranger before," I explained. "He said that they had to shut one of the trails. Falling gum trees or something."

"That's news to me," she replied. "My husband's worked for National Parks for thirty years. He would've told me if they'd closed one of the tracks."

Jason glanced to me. "We, uh, we need to go," he said, and held up the lantern. "Thanks for this."

Stepping onto the deck, Jason turned to me. "You're thinking what I'm thinking, right?" he asked.

"I think so," I replied sadly. "That milkshake bar is definitely gonna be shut by the time we figure out what's going on in that forest."

He patted me on the stomach. "You'll survive," he said. "You love a mystery as much as I do. C'mon."

To be continued.

Author's notes – for the record, when I finally finished the first draft of "Nyctophobia" in November 2021? I went out and bought a massive Lego pirate ship, to reward myself. My 14-year-old Orange Ranger self would've been very proud.