Page 10 of Hunted By Them

Maybe there was nothing to erase.

Maybe it had been a dream…or the legends were true. There were things in the forest that you just couldn’t explain, things you weren’t meant to question. Maybe the voices had been thunder folded into words that I wanted to hear. Maybe the touches, the whispers, the heat seared into my body were all a hallucination stitched from exhaustion and my overactive imagination.

But the ache in my thighs argued otherwise.

I shoved the thought down—way, way down—and hefted my pack higher on my shoulders before heading toward the trailhead. My boots sank deep into mud, sucking and releasing with each step, like the earth didn’t want to let me go.

Pausing just before the cabin was out of sight, I looked back over my shoulder. I wasn’t sure what I expected to see, but it looked as quiet and lonely as it had last night.

Leave now. Go back to the car. Forget.

Part of my mind screamed at me to just keep moving.

Don’t look back, don’t whistle after dark, don’t wish to see things you can never unsee.

Turning away, I marched the rest of the way along the narrow path that dumped me back out onto the main trail.

The air was heavy, making it difficult to breathe. Water dripped from the branches above, and the scent of moss and pine was strong. I moved fast, the drizzle needling the back of my neck as I muttered to myself like it would keep me sane.

“You’re fine. It’s over. It wasn’t real. Just go. Forget it,” I repeated like a mantra. And yet…I kept pausing to look over my shoulder, expecting to see eyes or antlers.

An hour in, my thoughts betrayed me. I couldn’t shake them. No matter how hard I tried, the image of the three men at the edge of the forest was a steady call, getting stronger with each step.

Somehow, the leader had found a way to seep into my blood with a few whispers. I growled as I stopped and looked up at the sky, praying for answers.

“Fuck,” I mumbled, and slowly turned around. Then I remembered their voices and how my name seemed to be braided into the wind.

Sweet Daisy. Crawl. Open. Come to us.

I stared back the way I’d come. The drizzle hissed in the leaves overhead, a raven’s croak cracked through the silence, and my chest seized like prey sensing the predator was still nearby.

Before me was safety. My car. Other hikers. My sister’s voice when she realized I had gone dark for too long. My mom’s disapproval tucked into the sharp edges of her worry.

Behind me…was them. I knew they were still out there. I felt it. No matter how insane it sounded, or how most people wouldn’t believe a word of it…I felt him…them. They were just out of sight, stalking me…following far enough away that most would never notice, but I did.

I turned my head one way, then the other. Forward. Back.

My mind rationalized that I was too damn young for a midlife crisis, that I needed to get to my car and get the fuck out of dodge. My body didn’t want to move forward.

I still needed to tell my mother that I had broken up with Connor and tossed him out on his ass. I could picture the pursed lips and the shake of her head.

You pick them just like your father. Her voice as sour as a lemon as she lectured me. The selfish ones. The ones who look right through you until you’re convenient again. And you never see it until they break your heart. You’d think you’d learn to listen to your mother.

She wasn’t wrong. My father had cheated and left, and I’d dated much of the same. Liars, charmers, men who turned affection into absence. History repeated like a cruel circle of life.

Were the men in the forest any better? I didn’t know. But the realization hit that I didn’t care because this was different.

The city had given me nothing but men who lied with smiles. The woods had given me freedom and men who didn’t bother lying at all. They had shown me teeth, hunger, and sexuality so honest it felt forbidden. And my body…my body wanted it.

I whispered into the drizzle, half-crazed with the lunacy of the situation and a stirring in my gut that I couldn’t shake.

“You’re not going back because you want them. You’re going back because you need proof you’re not insane.”

The lie was thin. Even saying it out loud, I didn’t believe the words.

Back down the trail—back to the mystery of what was in these woods that called to me.

The storm gathered strength as I retraced my steps. The drizzle had turned to a shower, and thunder rumbled like the forest itself was laughing. Every few minutes, I thought I heard something behind me, branches snapping, leaves shifting. But when I turned…nothing, only wet silence.