Strangers in a Broken World

by Edmar Fecler

Humans are naturally social creatures, struggling if deprived of companionship. Fifteen years of isolation would be enough to drive most men mad. But then, perhaps he was already mad? For why else would one be so acceptant of unseen things, waiting and watching from the dark corners of the forests? The war is over, the planet liberated... Perhaps its time to make a new friend.

5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Days like this had to be among Edmund's most disliked, if not the most disliked. Here it was late October, and it was probably eighty degrees Fahrenheit before taking the humidity into consideration. For that matter, the humidity was another beast all together. A thick blanket of fog was nestled in the valley between his home-ridge and the rest of the mountain range. The valley was roughly a mile wide from ridge to ridge as the crow flies, and he assumed the entire thing was flooded with this hellish mist.

It was the thick, unpleasant kind of fog that got your clothes drenched even before you could so with how much you sweat. It clung to Edmund's skin, the sheer density of it making it difficult to breathe normally at times. And that's not even getting into the problem of visibility. That is to say, there was none. Anything beyond half a dozen yards was nigh unperceivable, much less anything beyond that. On a similar note, the fog had an affinity for swallowing sound and smothering it into obscurity. The overbearing silence made it impossible for him to tell whether or not his Viper shadow was skulking about, or anything else for that matter.

But this was not terribly unprecedented, much to his chagrin. The climate had shifted to more extremes ever since the invasion. Summers were hotter, Winters were colder, and the Spring and Fall seasons were unpredictably chaotic. Then again this was the South, they had always been so to a degree; but something had caused the seasons to gradually drift into the most radical of extremes. Edmund could only speculate on the cause of such changes. Intentional tampering by the aliens, natural whiplash from the introduction of alien fauna and/or flora, just to name a few that crossed his mind.

Still, speculating on the causation did little in the way of distracting his mind from how unpleasant it was to farm during the present swampy haze. His remaining crops needed to be harvested before Winter properly set in, and he had been a bit too lax this Fall. Too much of the last week had been spent hoping for another face-to-face with the serpent; holding one-sided conversations at the usual woodland encounters and continuing to read at night. The frequency of such encounters seemed to have skyrocketed since their faceoff, though he couldn't tell if the implications were good or bad. He hoped for the more positive possibilities.

Edmund stood from his sitting position amid the carrot patch, pulling the bandana from his brow to once more wipe the perspiration from his face. Enough of this sweltering air; he was calling it for the day. He could only guess at the time, but he didn't care. It didn't take much longer for him to gather what produce he had harvested and the few tools he had used to do so and deposit them in the semi-trailer barn. Tomorrow would probably be a completely different climate, so he would sort it out then. In the meantime, getting home would be a slog.

Using his compass to orient himself accordingly, he set off into the oppressively pale miasma. It reminded him of that movie "The Mist." He hated that movie, though he liked the premise. The staunch anti-religion themes distracted from the intriguing setting, and the ending... Oh, how he loathed the ending. Not that it made him sad; more it made him livid at how quick the characters had been to needlessly throw their lives away. If death was inevitable, and it always is, then he believed one should persist until the end. Not even out of any fearful drive for survival, either. Just, enjoy the time you have until it's over. Have some fun with it. See what kind of crazy creature will claim you.

The thought of fog creatures gave him pause, looking around to see if he could spot any shapes in the mist. However none could be seen; simply the imperceivably dense blanket of pale white. He couldn't help but smile as he imagined scenarios where something jumped out and disemboweled him, ripped him limb from limb, or dragged him off into the mist never to be seen again, and so on. Such interesting ways to perish. The line of thought faded with a shrug as he set back to his path. After all, it was naught but laughable cinema right?
'Really? Blind dismissal of such things in spite of the literal alien invasion?' he logically chastised himself.
'Oh come on, I don't think they made creepy fog monsters. Besides, humans have had folklore about such things for millennia before their little invasion. Especially in the Appalachians.'
'You're not exactly dissuading my point...'
'Look; we'll believe, truly believe, such things when we see them. That's our logical stance after all, is it not?'
'True, but you realize that by that point we'll likely be as good as dead.'
'Then it will be an interesting death, and we get to go home to God. I fail to see a downside.'

The mental image of his logical self shrugged, conceding the point as he turned his attention back to his surroundings. There were no shapes, and no sounds, which meant he had not reached the treeline. He reached it in short order, and so began his trek up the hillside. It was slow going, making sure he was on the right heading and safely navigating obstacles like rocks and roots, but he was making progress. As he continued along his way, something caught his ear. A sharp, single-note whistle softly cut its way through the surrounding fog.

Edmund stopped dead in his tracks, assessing the new development. The old Appalachian mantra idly ran through his head. "If you heard something, no you didn't. If you saw something, no you didn't. Don't stare. Don't whistle. Don't run." An amused huff left his nose as he lamented how often he had deviated from the words of wisdom. His little neck of the woods were on the Westernmost periphery of the Appalachians, so he had always played loose with the mantra.

Of course, now he knew that the forest shadow was simply an alien snake person. Oh yes; 'simply' a bio-engineered alien. Nothing crazy. Still, it had been a long while since the last time it had whistled at him. Probably years ago, if he recalled correctly. Either way, he decided to play along. He retorted with a long, deep whistle that felt like it cut into the smothering fog. Minutes passed as he stood there, patiently waiting for a response.

As the silence remained unbroken, he eventually opted to carry on. He didn't hear any sounds, whistle or otherwise, for the rest of the journey home. The fog was so pervasive that even his own footfalls felt muffled to his ears. However, as he neared the peak of the ridgeline the fog abruptly stopped. He looked for a gap in the trees, peering out across the valley behind him. As he had expected, the Fog drowned the valley as if it were a basin filled with milk. It was indeed a rarity for fogs to be this heavy, but such was the unpredictable nature of the weather. He took a moment to appreciate the sight, and the inherent beauty therein. The edges of the heavy mists even seemed to lick the mountainsides like the shores of a great lake…

As the minutes passed, the sopping clothes weighing him down became too cumbersome to allow for idle gazing. Judging by the sun's position it was likely early afternoon, allowing for a scant few hours of daylight. He began ruminating on what to do with the remaining daylight as he resumed the trek home. A bath would be nice, be it a dip in the spring or a simple sponge bath. Either way, it would be very unsanitary to bring such dank perspiration into one's bed. Not like he had a washing machine to keep things nice and fresh...

Reaching the ridge's summit, he could see the Western flatlands through the canopy. He had to do a double take, as he was taken aback by the view. There wasn't fog anywhere else, for miles upon miles. It was still warm and unbearably humid, but the visual haze seemed contained to the valley. His curiosity and speculation ran rampant for a moment before he settled on the good news that this meant. It would seem the cold mountain spring, about half way down the Western half of the mountain, would be free of the foul fog.

With a contented nod and a grin he followed the ridge to his humble homestead. It was a quick pit-stop; changing out of the sopping work clothes and grabbing the usual wandering gear. Gear such as his backpack of miscellaneous survival accoutrements and his trusty shotgun. It was overkill a lot of the time, but to quote one of his personal favorite movies: "It's better to have it and not need it, than need it and not have it." Words he'd taken to heart, saving his life more than once over the years.

Gear in hand, he continued heading North along the ridge. There were markers that were well and truly familiar to him by now, such as the split tree or that funny looking rock, so it took little effort to keep track of where he was. About half a mile on, he started drifting left down a more reasonably inclined portion of the mountainside. The subtle trail might go overlooked by those that didn't know what to look for, but Edmund could see the path for what it was. He'd worn this trail down over the years from frequent trips to the spring for bathing or collecting water. Clean, mineral-rich water, straight from the proverbial tap.

As his path intersected a little creek, the runoff from the spring, he paused. He thought he heard something... different. He strained his ears, trying to hear past the soft gurgling of the brook. And there again, he heard it. Faint, carried over an untold distance, was someone calling for help.

There was the sudden, sharp snap of a stick above him. "GAH- damnit!" he shouted instinctively as he jumped. The shock passed in a fraction of a second, making way for a light-hearted chuckle. He really did find it funny how jumpy he was.

The stick landed at his feet, prompting him to turn and look into the foliage. A now familiar pair of violet eyes hung from the upper branches, the rest of her body masked in the shadows. They were dim at this angle, but still noticeable. His grin widened at the revelation of not being alone.

"Shhhh, hang on a sec'," he continued with a comedic inflection, pretending like he was brushing her off. "You hear that?"

Thanks to the silence instilled by the Viper's presence, he waited with baited breath for the next cry. It came after what felt like an eternity, though it was barely perceptible. Still, it was a high pitched call, likely from a child or a woman. Either way, Edmund found himself conflicted.
'If you heard something, no you didn't. Right?'
'All well and good to avoid cryptids that might not even exist. And if it's someone in actual need of help?' he logically countered.
'Could be a trap, be it monster or man.'
'But we're not one to leave someone to die out there. You know that.
'I know; I'm just making sure you know how this'll probably blow up in our face.'
'Ah, but that touches upon our earlier discussion. Either we help someone out, or we die an interesting death. Like you said, I fail to see a downside.'

"Eh, the spring's not going anywhere," Edmund finally commented out loud. "Guess I should go see who needs help. Care to give me a heading?" He turned back to the eyes, lingering on them expectantly. Eventually they turned, vanishing into the darkness. Just as he thought she was dismissing him, the other half of the snapped twig landed a short distance from him. It took a moment for it to click, but when it did he pulled out his compass and directed it in the direction it had landed. Due West.

His grin widened, more heavily to the left than the right as it always did. "Thank you, friend. Truly." He looked back up to the empty canopy to express his sincerity, capping the gesture off by bumping a fist to his chest before striking a sideways 'peace' gesture.

The unnatural, bone-chilling silence followed him as he ventured into the overgrown flatlands. Every so often the quiet would be interrupted by another cry for help. However, progress was slow. Unfamiliar territory meant Edmund was more cautious with his pace, as well as having to cut his way through troublesome areas. Being away from the rockier ground of the mountainside meant more underbrush, regardless of canopy density. Even more unfortunate was that the time taken by his caution was cutting into what little day yet remained.

Once he had freed himself from a particularly grabby briar patch, he paused to assess things. Light was beginning to fade, with the occasional beam of nearly horizontal sunlight breaching the leafy canopy. It would be less than an hour until darkness fell. And now that he thought about it, it had been a moment since he heard another call for help. He supposed this was the point to make a decision: Go home before it gets too far into night, or fully commit to the so-called rescue. He wiped the sweat from his brow as he thought, idly noting how these clothes were now becoming drenched as well.
...Screw it; he'll commit. He took a deep breath in, as deep as he was able, to put as much power into his voice as he could.

"HELLOOOO..." His voice bellowed deeply, rumbling within his chest cavity. He even faintly heard it echo off the mountain behind him. "ANYONE OUT HERE?"

The effort left him feeling winded, taking a few measured breaths to recuperate as he waited for a reply. He didn't have to wait long, as another couple cries of help soon echoed through the trees. They were much clearer now, implying he was getting closer to them. That, or they were getting closer to him. Also there seemed to be two of them, and they sounded more like young men thanks to the new clarity. Perhaps children or teenagers. But then, the only people around here at that age would be-

There was a sudden, sharp hiss from somewhere above him. The snapping of twigs and rustling of branches was obvious as "something" moved suddenly and with little care for making its presence known. Edmund whirled around, frantically scanning the canopy in an attempt to discern what was happening. The rustling sounds seemed to travel swiftly back in the direction from which he had come; leaving him standing there, stumped.

"Well, alright then..." he said quietly as the regular forest sounds slowly returned. Crickets and other chirping insect noises were most notable, indicative of the coming night. "Guess I'll see you later."

Another lonely call for help snapped his attention back to the task he'd now committed to. He pressed forward as the last vestiges of light slowly dwindled, leaving the forest in absolute darkness. This understandably slowed his progress even further, but it did appear he was still making progress. Perhaps he should use his flashlight? No... not yet. The light would be a beacon, drawing everything to his precise location. I mean sure, that would technically help with the current objective, but he chose to err on the side of caution. After all, the young adults might not be alone, or have the best intentions. And that's assuming they're even human...

As Night deepened the calls became less about help and more "Over here!" "This way!" "Hello?" and so on. As paranoia crawled up his brain stem, Edmund replied less and less. Rather, he simply followed their calls; allowing the so-called victims guide him. The people sounded like they were in their teens, if Edmund had to guess. This in mind, he would be more than content in his choice not to leave them to the elements. That is, at least, if his current assumptions were correct.

Soft, barely perceivable light began to illuminate the forest through the canopy. He could see through an opening that the moon was shining bright and full, or close enough to it. "Thanks, Chief," Edmund faintly murmured, looking to the heavens with a smile. Soft rustling sounds drew his attention somewhere to his left. It seemed to be growing steadily louder, implying that the source was approaching. He ducked behind a tree, peering into the darkness for any trace of movement.

As the rustling neared, the sound of murmured voices became distinguishable, if faintly. Edmund remained as still and quiet as he could, analyzing the sounds as they neared. The footfalls were frequent, but not frequent enough to be more than three or four individuals. They also seemed blunt, not caring about any noise they made. He thought he had caught a glimpse of movement, but then they stopped. Had they spotted him? How could they, they didn't have any light-

"HEY," one of their voices erupted, cutting through the quiet night ambience, "YOU STILL OUT THERE?"

With the voice this close, Edmund was more confident in his recognition of the source. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry. "Take it easy, I found you," he called out, remaining behind the tree.

"Shit-!" another familiar voice cried out in alarm. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Better to make sure you're not trouble before engaging," Edmund replied curtly. They weren't shooting at him, so that was nice. "You kids the ones running around making a ruckus?"

"Yeah," the first, and older, voice replied. "Thanks for coming to help, man. Did Damien send you?"

Edmund smirked, having all the confirmation he wanted. "Nah kid, you're just lucky I heard you. Just to be clear though; you guys aren't aliens luring me to my death, right?"

The younger one audibly scoffed. "Naw man. Are you?"

"Oh,absolutely," Edmund replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "I'm here to suck you brains out. Bleh!"

"Cut it out, man! We really need some help here," The older voice shot back.

"Ahh, don't worry. It'll be fine. I'm gonna' turn a light on now; so don't freak out, alright?" Edmund finally took the old flashlight out of his backpack, holding it in his left hand while the right still gripped the shotgun. A pop of the button, and a cone of light illuminated a slice of the forest before him. The two teenagers shielded their eyes reflexively, as he noted the visual confirmation of their identities. It was, in fact, the two teenagers from Damien's camp.

"Alright, you've seen us," the older one with shades said, trying to get a look at the light's source. "Now let us see you."

Edmund turned the light on himself, casting the light over the shotgun as he did so. "Got you, cam kiddo's," he joked as the light shone across his face. "You gotta' stay on your toes out here."

"Very funny," the older one retorted, "So you going to help us or just crack jokes?"

Edmund turned the light back to them as he began to approach. "Relax, I'll get you home. What the cuss are you doing way out here, anyway?" He paused as it clicked with him that there were only two of them. "...And where's the Goodwell kid? What was his name? Jimmy?"

"James," the vest-clad teen corrected, "and he didn't want to come. Can't say as I blame him, considering..."

"Understandable. On that note, mind reminding me of your names? Hardly get to see you but maybe thrice a year, after all."

"Lucas," the sunglasses one said dryly, followed by the younger one in the vest, "Kirk."

"Nice reference there, kid," directing the light to Kirk. The young man scrunched his face in confusion, turning to Lucas.

Lucas just shook his head. "Please, just help us get home, alright?"

"Of course," Edmund replied politely. He slung the shotgun over his shoulder in order to pull out his compass. He determined which way was East, and pointed the light in that direction. "We'll head to the mountain, then follow it south back to camp. It'll take a couple of hours, but it's the surest way of navigating in these woods. So, after you..."

"What do you mean, 'after you'?" Kirk asked, still confused. "You've got the light, aren't you supposed to lead?"

"Goodness, no." Edmund's tone was perfectly blunt, unlike the joviality he had used before. "Being safe inside an area of light is the first line of defense at night. Problem with flashlights is they cast the light away from the wielder, leaving them in the darkness. So with you in front of me, I can see you and can help if something happens. But if you're behind me in the dark, then some critter or something could pull you away and we'd be none the wiser until you were long gone."

"Hey, cut the shit. That's not funny," Lucas said sternly.

Edmund turned the light back to them, noticing that Kirk was now looking around nervously. "I agree, it's not funny at all. Animals out here are quick, quiet, and deadly. Always have been. A good example I can recall is one time before the invasion; there were a team of hikers trekking through the mountains. They had to round a corner one by one because of how narrow the path was at that point, and one of them just vanished when he was out of sight of the person behind him. The group freaked out and started looking around, and they eventually found the missing person days later. He had been dragged away and half devoured by a mountain lion in broad daylight, and the other hikers hadn't heard a thing.

"So stay in the light, where I can see you." He turned the light back in the direction that they should be heading. They promptly moved past him to stay in the light, though Lucas turned and jabbed a finger at Edmund.

"Why you trying to freak us out? It's bad enough we're lost out here without having to worry about lions and shit trying to eat us."

Edmund shrugged. "Mountain lions; they're different. Far smaller, and acclimated to an entirely different biome. Just as deadly though." he corrected as he began marching forward. Lucas and Kirk took the hint and began to move as well, watching the edges of the light warily.

"And that's just how it is out here. The important thing is to stay calm, and keep your wits about you. I'll let you know if we need to stop or turn or what have you. …Actually, you know what? Here," He paused, pulling out his machete and offering it to them. "That'll help keep you safe and clear the way."

"I'd prefer a gun," Kirk said shakily as Lucas took the blade by the handle.

Edmund unslung his Mossberg, resting the barrel in his left elbow as that arm held the flashlight aloft. "Nuh-uh, that's for the adult."

The teenagers didn't have anything else to add, and Edmund was content to leave them be as they made their way through the forest. Quiet fell over them—that is to say, quiet of the normal variety. The soft chirps of insects could be heard over the rustling and snapping of the party's footfalls, making for a rather pleasant ambiance in Edmund's opinion. The nearby hoot of an owl seemed to startle the kids, pausing briefly to try and identify the sound's source. It went on like this for a short while, before Edmund decided to break the relative silence.

"You never did tell me what you guys are doing so far from camp," he said casually.

"We were playing soldier in the woods near camp..." Kirk began, speaking in a soft, wary tone of voice. "But Lucas thought he heard something-"

"I heard someone calling for help, deeper in the forest," Lucas interjected, sounding a bit cross. "It sounded like Levi, one of the hunters. Figured he got caught in one of his traps, so I wanted to go help. It had been hard enough to talk James into playing soldier, so we let him go back to camp to let the others know. We went to help, but we couldn't find Levi."

"It's like we weren't getting any closer, despite how far we went," Kirk added quietly.

They couldn't see it, but Edmund's brow furrowed deeply. A contemplative frown spread across his face as their story played on his paranoia. It sounded like the stereotypical cryptid folktales, but he felt that such things had little credibility at this point. After all, he'd heard whistles and calls in the forest for all these years, and turns out it was just that Viper skulking about. Then again, was this her doing? If so, to what end? His over-analytical mind ran circles and formulated theories as he continued to listen.

"Eventually he stopped calling for help. The others probably found him, so we gave up. We tried heading back, but, well..." Lucas trailed off.

"We wound up out here." Kirk slowed his pace as he looked over his shoulder. "Thanks, for helping us. And, uh... sorry about making you jump all the time."

The apology snapped his focus back to the conversation. "Oh—Ehh, don't worry about it. Truth be told, you're not wrong in that I get a kick out of it. It really is rather amusing how jittery a guy as big as me can be." He chuckled at the thought.

"And I'm sorry too. I wasn't trying to freak you guys out with the mountain lion story, but you've got to know how dangerous it can be outside of camp. Aliens or no, there's plenty of danger out here. I would say they don't mess with me because I'm basically a bigfoot, but even I've been jumped by a wiley predator or two. And that's not even getting into how dangerous it can be to encounter aliens, or even other humans."

"Great, here it comes," Lucas dryly muttered to himself, "Not even home yet and I'm getting lectured on how this is all my fault. Heaven forbid I want to help someone in need! What, you rather I leave them to die?" He punctuated his frustration by putting extra oomph into hacking away at a piece of brush.

Edmund patiently waited for him to simmer down before continuing. "Hey, hey- I'm not trying to scold you; and I can appreciate your wanting to help. I mean, that's exactly what I'm doing here too. But you've got to understand the risks involved out here. The animals I've covered, the aliens should be obvious, but you should be wary of humans too."

"Why?" Kirk sounded less worried now, and more curious. "Aren't we all in this together? United against the invaders? I mean, I know Killian doesn't seem to like you for some reason, but still... Why?"

"Oh, kid..." Edmund sighed, a mix of disappointment and sorrow washing over him. "You two live a sheltered life in a small, friendly community. I'm not surprised your parents haven't warned you about the more grim aspects of humanity—look, I don't want to go off on some lecture about how bad people can be, so I'll try to be blunt. Be it in the cities or the wildlands, humans can pose just as much of a threat as anything else, okay? Crazed killers, folks who have lost their minds, and far, far worse. You would have been lucky if the call for help you answered wasn't some kind of trap."

"What about you," Lucas interjected, "I mean, you answered us... How'd you know we weren't setting up an ambush?"

Edmund huffed in amusement. "I didn't. Why do you think I snuck up on you like that? The difference is, to put it simply, I'm an armed adult who knows what he could be in for. You two, on the other hand? I'd say wait until you're older and know a bit more about the world before you cast yourself into potential danger. You're the future generation; you've got to take better care of yourselves. At least for now. Alright?"

They nodded, mumbling their acknowledgment. Edmund didn't feel compelled to add anything else, nor did they, so the trio carried on in silence once more. After a time they reached the bottom of the mountain, as indicated by encountering the spring's creek again. As much as Edmund wished to climb the mountain to follow the ridge south, as was his usual route, he was wary of the terrain. Craggy drops masked behind underbrush, surprise crevasses hidden under leaves, or any other number of dangers that one might not spot in the darkness. Truthfully, if Edmund was alone he wouldn't worry so much; but he had two young charges to safely return home. It was better to be safe, than sorry.

And so he directed them to turn south, following alongside the mountain as it shrunk. After what felt like an hour, and a particularly thick bunch of brush, the group found themselves in an open field. The tall, unkempt grass reached halfway up the two teenager's torsos, though it only reached Edmund's waist. He chuckled to himself over their difference in size before ushering them to stop for a moment. Free from the forest canopy, he took the opportunity to visually identify the mountain to determine how far along they were. The tree-covered ridge was barely visible above the treeline, highlighted by the moonlight, meaning they were nearing their destination.

"Welp, probably won't be too much longer. You guys holding up okay?" Edmund asked idly. Kirk and Lucas looked back to him, nodding silently. Even so, his attention was more on their surroundings. "How about we take a moment to catch our breath and just... enjoy the scenery for a moment." They offered no objection to the idea.

Without thinking he turned away from the two teens, though he made sure to keep the light on them. The rich moonlight illuminated the faintly waving grass outside of the flashlight's aura. It was almost magical how the light danced across the fronds. Looking up to the source of the light, he found the moon was so vibrant and luminous that most stars were not visible; their light drowned out by the stellar body. Half of the sky was veiled in a thin layer of cloud, its defined edge curving hither and yonder. It appeared as if the mass was eager to absorb the bright orb, but had not yet reached it. The moon's light resonated within the thin clouds, particularly those closest to it, turning them into a swirling, ghostly grey miasma against the inky backdrop of the night sky. He needed to stop and appreciate the beauty of God's creation more often...

A sharp, single-note whistle cut through the night air. The tune seemed to get caught in the field, faintly echoing off the tree lines. A deep, unnatural silence settled over them as the tune inevitably faded away. A chilling, deathly still silence that crawled across one's skin from how surreal it was.

...But perhaps that was enough sight-seeing for now. The sound snapped Edmund from the daze he had fallen into, suddenly wondering how long he'd been enjoying the serene view. He turned his attention back to the teenagers, relieved that they were both still present. However, their profound unease was apparent. Their eyes were darting around, scanning the surrounding treeline nervously.

Edmund followed their gaze, observing the black-as-tar darkness beneath the trees as a tingle ran down the back of his neck. He half expected to see a pair of violet orbs in the darkness, illuminated by the moonlight, but there were none. He felt a nervousness begin to settle into the pit of his stomach before forcing the feeling away.

"Don't panic," Edmund said quietly, "don't even feel nervous. In fact-" He loudly sniffed, rolling his shoulders as he took on a more casual tone of voice. "Let's keep moving. It's probably nothing."

"Are you kidding me?!" Lucas whispered in livid frustration. "You telling me you don't feel that? Like- like something's watching you? Sizing you up?"

"Well, sure," Edmund continued in his now blasé tone, "Probably some apex predator or unnatural entity creeping on us. But it just happens from time to time out here. As I said; the important thing is to not to freak out. Animals, be them natural or otherworldly, have acute senses. They can sense when we, or other animals, panic due to chemical reactions. You know, increased heart rate, nervous sweating, etcetera. AKA, they can smell your fear."

"Okay, now you really are trying to freak us out." Kirk said bluntly, no longer trying to be quiet.

Edmund faintly smirked. "A little bit, maybe. It's good to have a sense of humor about such things. Though, I am being truthful in what I'm saying. Biology really is weird like that."

"So, what?" Lucas wheeled around, glaring at Edmund despite the flashlight shining in his eyes. "We're just supposed to pretend we're not being hunted by... whatever it is? How can you be so calm about this?!"

"Basically, yeah," Edmund replied bluntly to the first query. Sure he was pulling their leg a bit, but it would probably be best not to mention that it was likely a Viper. He didn't want them to actually panic, after all. "As for keeping my calm, to put it frankly; I do not care. Either nothing happens, or something happens. If you spend all your time freaking out because something might happen, you're just making yourself miserable. By all means, freak out if something actually happens, but until then I say don't worry about it. And so what if you don't know what it is? Fearing the unknown is cliché."

Lucas squinted, trying to collect his thoughts. "So, wait... If you really just 'don't care', then where the hell do you get off lecturing us on how we gotta' be all careful and shit? A bit, um... whats the word? Hypno-clinical?"

"Hypocritical." Edmund shook his head slightly, though the gesture was lost in the darkness. "Just because I don't care if something happens, that doesn't mean I actively seek out such dangers. Avoid the danger if possible, but keep a cool head regardless."

Kirk and Lucas exchanged a puzzled look. The unnerving silence persisted as they took a moment to ponder his words. Hopefully the sentiment would be enough to keep their minds off of what may or may not be an alien snake monster lurking in the darkness.

"Look," Edmund began, recapturing their focus, "Just pretend it's nothing, alright? We're almost to camp, then you'll get to go curl up in your bunks or wherever you sleep. Everything is—probably—going to be just fine. Sound good?"

They nodded silently, if nervously, prompting Edmund to reassert which direction they should head. The three of them continued through the field, glancing between the thick grass they were wading through and the abyssal darkness at the edges of the trees. All the while the deathly silence followed them, menacing them with some unspoken threat. Truthfully, he couldn't blame them for being nervous. I mean sure, he had egged it on a little bit as a joke, but even he had to admit it seemed a bit more unnerving than he was used to. Perhaps it was because he had company, and their nervousness was infectious? Perhaps it was because of the darkness? Maybe their nervousness was rubbing off on him? It was hard to say... However, he quickly realized that his puzzling over the situation was helping abate his own nervousness, and grinned in amusement.

Their trek continued on as minutes seemed to drag on for eternity. Lucas and Kirk still seemed to be nervous, though hacking at the underbrush seemed to be having a cathartic effect on Lucas. Besides the persisting silence and occasionally checking the compass, the rest of the journey was uneventful. Neither the teenagers nor their rescuer felt any need for further conversation. That is, at least, until they started hearing calls from further ahead. Taking their earlier discussion into consideration, Lucas and Kirk turned to Edmund expectantly. He froze, listening to the calls as they echoed through the now thinning forest.

It was multiple people... grouped together, perhaps. It sounded like they were... calling names? Two names...? That tracked. Logically speaking, it was most likely a group from Damien's camp—if not the camp itself—calling out for the lost boys. Good thing, too; it would make their job of actually finding their destination all the easier. He shared his conclusion with his charges, though warned them to remain quiet as they approached in case of any unexpected occurrences. They obliged, as they all shifted their course to follow the voices.

Paralleling how Edmund had approached the two boys earlier, they were ostensively playing a game of reverse Marco-Polo. The voices of adults, men and women, became louder and more distinguishable as they neared, and the two teenager's moods began to shift from fearful nervousness to a relieved anticipation. They began softly discussing which voices belonged to who, and whatever implications that seemed to entail. Soon they began catching glimpses of flashlights in the distance, flickering between the tree trunks. So caught up in their eagerness, the boys were oblivious to the subtle shift in the forest around them, though Edmund remained attentive.

The surreal silence faded back into the usual buzzing of nocturnal insects, owls, and other such nighttime ambiance. Apparently their "friend" had lost interest about the time the hunting party had gotten close enough for their lights to be visible. Then again, this came as no surprise to Edmund. If their stalker was who he thought it was, then he could not—in good conscious—blame her for wanting to avoid a group of likely-to-be-armed individuals in the dead of night. He didn't doubt she could take them, but more likely she was avoiding conflict where there didn't need to be any. That's what a good reconnaissance asset should do, after all.

His latest onset of idle musings was broken when the voices, now clear enough to guess the identity of their sources, spotted Edmund's flashlight and were calling out to investigate. Calls of "Who's out there?" or "Kirk? Lucas? That you guys?" could be heard in clearer and clearer detail as the group approached. Trouble was, these voices were echoing in a familiarly heavy southern drawl. Of course, it only made sense that Killian and his gaggle of hunters would spearhead the search. Safer to let those with experience in guns and the wilderness lead the way into the dark scary forest.

As the lights neared the voices became more demanding, telling them to "Wait there!" and so on. By now the two boys were eagerly looking between the encroaching hunters and Edmund; unsure of how their rescuer wanted to approach the situation, but still following his lead for now. As the silhouetted figures of the hunting party began to become visible, highlighted by their own flashlights, Edmund sighed.

"Guess that's it then," He said softly, though loud enough for Lucas and Kirk to hear. "Got you kids home, just like I said. They're almost on us now, so I doubt anything will happen if you go on ahead. I'll just... keep my distance back here."

Kirk's almost excited expression soften slightly at the words. "You're not coming with us back to camp?"

"Ohoho goodness, no," Edmund replied bluntly, wishing he could hold his hands up defensively, "I've done my part, and frankly I'd rather not deal with 'Killian & Co.' any more than I have to. Given the circumstances, who knows what kind of bullcrap they might try to start."

"Yeah that's fair, 'specially after that shitshow in the commons." Lucas stepped closer to the towering man, offering the machete back to its owner. "Thanks again for the help, Mountain Man; even if you tried to scare us with your stories."

Edmund chuckled, taking the machete and ignoring how the voices were getting louder. "No sweat, Camp Kiddo's. Just try to remember what I told you about wandering out here, alright? Oh, and one more thing..." He leaned down as if he didn't want to be heard. "Do me a solid and keep Killian and them busy whilst I slip away, would you?"

The devious grin on Lucas' face was clear as the moon above. "For saving our hides? Sure thing, old timer."

Edmund returned the smile, though he doubted it was visible. Without another word, the two teenagers bolted towards the approaching lights, announcing their presence as they did so. Edmund waited but a moment for confirmation of their safe arrival, which he got as the hunting party started shouting out how they'd found them. The warm smile still spread across his face, Edmund clicked his flashlight off and slipped back into the inky forest before someone saw fit to come after him. Besides, he still had a long way to go before he made it home.