Bright Eyes

12. The Shadow Men

In the dark, they walked down the worn path, footfalls loud in the silence, beams of light cutting through the shadows. Owls hooted into the night. Katydids and crickets chanted their mantra. The wind whistled its nocturne tune. And the trees were just as haunting—branches like skeleton hands reaching down to them, a still image before the same hands grab their throats and tear them limb from limb.

    Sander could feel someone following them, lurking in the shadows, eyes peering through the dark. Just a figment of the imagination, he thought to himself. Or the aftermath of all the horror movies he watched with his brother as a child, just to prove to him that he was brave, only to end up failing halfway through the film and run crying to his mother. It was the dead of night, after all. The dark had its way of giving anyone the creeps.

    He shook the thought out of mind, and glanced down at his watch, and announced, "We've only got about ten minutes left."

    "We're already going as fast we can," said Jack. "Can't go any faster when it's this dark."

    "I'm only stating facts," countered Sander, a tinge of growing panic evident in his voice.

    Lyn walked beside Damien, holding up her phone as a flashlight, a cold kind of silence surrounding her. But Damien said nothing, ignoring the aura she gave off. Now wasn't a good time to deal with some English presentation. If only she saw the look on Cheryl's face when they exited the clearing, angry and hurt. They were in for a fight soon, he knew. Wasn't that enough of a sacrifice, a consequence for what he did?

    Lyn gave him a sidewise glance and walked past him, realizing an apology from Damien will always be as hopeless as it ever was. And that's one thing that didn't change about him—his ego, and how he rarely admitted any of his faults. She strode down the trail, her eyes on the path ahead. But something solid struck her foot, and Lyn jerked forward, a hand grabbing her arm just in time, before she could fall any further.

    "Are you really this clumsy?" asked a voice on her immediate left. "That's the second time now."

    "Thanks," she muttered, stepping over a root that had grown into the path.

    "Where's your knight in shining armor?" teased Max, resuming his steps. "I'm tired of seeing all your klutziness and having to break your fall all the time. Someone will probably have to give you a piggyback ride back to the dorms if you keep this up. And that's not going to be me. See," he added, flexing an undefined bicep, "not bulked up for the job."

    Lyn chuckled, walking next to him. "Don't worry, I can take care of myself. I'm not Bella Swan."

    "Bella who?"

    Lyn shook her head. "Never mind."

    Max shrugged. "I would've gone for the Yoda and Luke reference."

    Jack walked on ahead of them, ignoring Sander's countless time checks. They were halfway through, anyway. It would only take less than ten minutes now till they get out of the forest; and after that, they'll have to make a run for it to the dorms, and that was the easy part. There was nothing to worry about, he thought. No reason for Sander to put his energy into checking his watch than actually making his way out of here.

    Jack tilted his phone up a bit, illuminating the trail, light falling upon a tall pale figure dressed in black clothes. The man smiled at them with his crooked white teeth, his sunglasses and light blond hair glistening in the light. In his hand was a cane, the end of which he tapped rhythmically against the ground, but Damien and Jack knew better.

    They all took a few steps back as the man walked forward. Without saying a word, they turned, with the intention of running in the opposite direction. But a silhouette stood in the path, his long black coat flapping in the evening wind. He sauntered toward them, a pale dark-haired man coming into the light, then he said, "Well, well, what a fine night it is, brother."