The Last Winter

Saturday: Midnight Dilemma (8)

Wesley
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It was a great idea...in theory. We'd done musicals before as a youth group, but they always took place at the church. Now we felt called to share our performance even more. Dad and Brother Joe, our pastor, had gotten into contact with a nice rural church in the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee.

We were excited--a road trip, a musical--the mountains. We were going to be far away from home and nestled in the middle of a forest, by what had been described to us. We were...overwhelmed, I guess.

It was a joke. Just a stupid joke.

I keep thinking up excuses as to why we did what we did to Paul and Justin, but the truth is--nothing about it can be justified.

I'm sorry I failed you, Eugena.

I hear a quiet groan, and it takes me a moment to realize that the sound came from me. I feel icy wind blow in my face, and when I finally open my eyes, I find myself lying on the ground in the open doorway of the shed. The side of my head throbs, and when I take my hand away from my temple, I see blood on my palm.

Oh God, I think quickly, struggling to my feet and peering inside the building. The tools, the boards, the generator--

Please, God, no!

Dad is gone. He's gone!

His last words to me echo in my memory like a broken record: "Wes, GO!"

I bite my lower lip, breathing fast and scrambling to the doorway to look outside.

"GO!" he screamed. "GO!"

Nothing. I see the lodge in the distance, basking in shadow. Dad is nowhere in sight.

"...you need to get back to the others. Get everyone together in one room. Make sure everyone is accounted for."

I take in a deep breath before I notice something dark in the snow beside my feet. I bend down for a closer look, all the while Dad's voice is haunting my thoughts:

"Lock the doors...get back to the others."

I gasp, jerking up and taking a step back.

Blood. It's blood!

Dad's blood.

"No," I moan aloud, bending my knees in devastation.

Something awful must've happened to him, something to cause him to bleed. A lot.

I follow the snow with my eyes, recognizing long marks that suggest he had been dragged. The vision of the door to the shack whipping open comes to my mind. Someone had come in and taken him, maybe even stabbed him.

"GO!" he had screamed. "GOOOO!"

I glance at the lodge again, then back to the ominous trail.

"DAD!" I shout, cupping my hands around my mouth. I can hear my voice echo into the distant mountains, but the only reply I get is the vicious sound of wind whistling through the trees.

I feel sick to the stomach, but I need to find out what is waiting for me at the end of this trail. If Dad is still alive somewhere in the woods, bleeding to death, then I had to find him. If--if not, then...

I shake my head. Dad is still alive. He has to be.

I retrieve my phone from inside the shack, where I had dropped it. I only have 30% of battery life left. Hopefully that would be enough to sustain me until I find where these tracks lead to.