Gutierrez identified the ranger station they pulled up at as Station #08. It was back the way they had come, but only by about a mile. Wil didn’t like the idea of going back toward the Ranger HQ and those things at all, and even an inch back in that direction set his hairs to prickling.
Everybody agreed they needed the supplies, and that they needed to find Ranger Jacobs before they left. Ranger Jacobs was hopefully on the way out along the ranger trail, before it split off into the logging trail. Each minute they spent here was another minute the absent Jacobs could be blindly heading back to the main station and into the waiting hands or claws of the black-eyed creatures.
Of course, they all could have abandoned the ranger HQ by now and be sprinting right for them. That Sandoval-thing could be leaping from tree-to-tree like a jumping spider, lurking in the branches. It coud be waiting with its lashing tongues to spike one of them in the brain and——
Wil shook his head.
That wasn’t productive.
No biggie. Just don’t think about the monsters you saw that violate every natural law you know of and could be stalking this whole god damn park by the hundreds or thousands, Wil thought.
He sighed.
Still not productive.
Gutierrez did a circuit of Station #08 and confirmed that it looked clear. Empty, but clear. O’Donnell started the generator and Wil winced at the noise. Matsuda did the same.
“Get whatever information and supplies you can, and then we should go,” Matsuda said as he hurried into the station behind Gutierrez. O’Donnell waved Wil inside and came in last.
Wil immediately connected to the WiFi and almost sobbed when he saw he had a message from Naomi.
NAOMI: I’ll stay here for now. Streets outside are batshit anyway. Cars piled up in the roads, looters or rioters or something. Smoke and fire and mist make visibility shit as well. I hope you get this.
WIL: I’m here! I got it! I’m with a couple park rangers and a weird old guy and we’re coming to Portland to get you!
Wil put his phone away, figuring he wouldn’t waste time staring at the screen in hope of an immediate response. Instead he swept through Station #08 in search of anything useful. There was another gun cabinet, but O’Donnell was already loading another shotgun and rifle into it. Matsuda approached him from the side and pointed at the rifle.
“I’d like that, if you don’t mind,” he said.
“You got experience with an AR-15?” O’Donnell asked.
“Mostly the M-16. But yes, I know it,” Matsuda said.
“Lotta use for these at the retirement home?” O’Donnell asked and passed the unloaded assault rifle to the old man. He turned it deftly in his hands, checked the sights, and handled it as well as Wil handled a drafting pencil.
“Bingo night can get ugly,” Matsuda said with another small grin. O’Donnell gave him a funny look, but also handed over a pair of magazines.
“Do park rangers normally have this kind of firepower?” Wil asked as he poked through drawers. He found a stash of granola bars, a bottle of aspirin, and two unopened water bottles.
“We’re technically a sort of law enforcement agency too, y’know,” Gutierrez said. “This Sig Sauer on my hip isn’t for bears. That’s what the mace is for.”
“Lotta crime in a place like Oak Rest?” Matsuda said and he loaded the AR-15.
“Mostly just drunk and disorderly types. But sometimes, yeah. Somebody comes up here to stash a body, or a criminal from the city figures they’ll camp out in the woods until the heat blows over,” O’Donnell said. He took a pair of large black metal flashlights and a few batteries.
“Nothing like today, tell you that much,” Gutierrez said. “I hit my weird-shit-o-meter limit as soon as this one showed up on my porch with a bloody axe.”
“Yeah, speaking of that, am I just gonna keep this or do I get a gun too? I feel like after what we saw at the lodge, I might like one after all,” Wil said.
“What training do you have?” Matsuda asked.
“Uh, none,” Wil replied. Matsuda frowned.
“Normally I’d be happy to teach you, but we’re on the run. And shooting isn’t really one of those sink-or-swim type of situations.”
“Hey, you’re with two law enforcement rangers and an old guy who knows how to handle himself on bingo night. You’ll be fine,” Gutierrez said. Wil grimaced but didn’t press the point. She wasn’t wrong.
He had, in a way, very much lucked out. Sure his peaceful considerations for embracing the void had been interrupted in possibly the most nightmarish way possible. And he’s almost been gored or turned into a shambling monster a couple times. But, if he had to be stuck in the wilderness with killer things, he could do worse than two forest rangers and a weird old guy who knew a puzzling amount about how to handle himself in such dire circumstances.
Bingo night notwithstanding.
Still, it left Wil in the unenviable position of being not much good at all. He supposed if they ever needed a very quick and precise drawing of a bookcase done then he would be their go-to guy. Until then he contented himself with finding anything that looked of use that wasn’t a gun.
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His phone buzzed in his pocket and Wil immediately dropped everything he had with a heavy thud as he scrambled to dig his phone out of his pocket.
NAOMI: It’s dangerous here Wil. It might be better to wait a day, let the military clear things out.
WIL: Whatever’s happening isn’t normal. Military might not be able to handle it.
NAOMI: And you can?”
WIL: No, but I’m not going to fight. I’m just going to get you and get out. The people I’m with are handy, they got guns and supplies. We’ll be okay. You stay safe.
NAOMI: Stubborn asshole.
WIL: I mean it, shithead.
NAOMI: I’m not leaving my apartment alone. I’ll wait here for now. Text me when you can.
WIL: I will. I love you.
No response. Wil swallowed. .
NAOMI: I love you too, asshole. Be safe. Saving battery now. I’ll turn it on once every few hours.
WIL: Good plan. See you soon.
Wil put his phone away with an almost giddy excitement. It was Christmas morning and his birthday rolled into one.
She said she loved him.
Still.
“What’re you doing?” Gutierrez asked him. “Why’d you drop all that stuff?”
“She still loves me,” he said, the ranger’s voice barely registering for him.
“Oooookay,” Gutierrez replied.
“Sorry. Just…my girlfriend, she’s alive. She’s gonna stay put until I can get her,” Wil said.
“Hey, good news. We cleared the place out and packed the jeeps. You coming?”
“Yeah. Yeah, sorry,” Wil said as he hurried out and into the jeep. O’Donnell and Matsuda gave them a wave as they pulled out and rolled away toward the distant ranger trail. Gutierrez buckled in, and she and Wil followed after.
“So where is this Jacobs person?” Wil asked as they drove.
“They said Sandoval sent him to one of the nearby radio towers. It’s not far off the ranger trail we’re heading for. If there was a problem, he would’ve been able to fix it, short of the whole antennae collapsing,” Gutierrez replied.
“And if he’s not there?”
Gutierrez sighed and gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Dunno. Depends. If he’s there but his jeep isn’t, we do a quick search. If neither are there, it means he probably went back to the lodge, in which case…”
Wil swallowed.
“I really don’t wanna go back there,” Gutierrez said and there was a tremble in her voice.
“Me neither.”
“Let’s just hope Jacobs is there, yeah?”
Wil nodded.
Eventually O’Donnell stopped along the side of the main road. There was an obvious dirt path blocked by a metal gate painted yellow. A matching yellow metal sign with black letters that read “OFFICIAL PARK PERSONNEL ONLY” was bolted to the center of the gate. A thick chain with an equally thick padlock held the gate closed. It wasn’t much taller than Wil’s waist, but it would’ve prevented any vehicles from getting through.
O’Donnell emerged from his jeep with a ring of keys, unlocked the padlock and chain, then waved Gutierrez through. She was driving slowly past him when Wil leaned forward.
“Bring the chain and lock,” Wil said out of Gutierrez’s open window.
“Huh? Why?” he asked.
“In case we want a secure way to close another door or gate or something. Or hell, just beat something with the chair and padlock if it comes to that,” Wil said.
“He’s right. Good idea,” Matsuda said from the other jeep.
“Yeah, might as well. Not like leaving the gate locked is gonna do any good,” Gutierrez agreed and O’Donnell shrugged as he took the chain and lock back to his jeep. Gutierrez drove steadily ahead of them now, along the dirt path.
Wil kept an eye on the surrounding woods, watchful for any movement. Nothing stirred. This only made him more uncomfortable. Either the animals were all changed into those black-eyed things, or they knew to stay hidden. He hoped it was the latter, but that still wasn’t a comforting thought. It meant that whatever was happening was pervasive enough and of significant magnitude to instinctively drive wildlife away and into hiding.
“I’ve never seen it like this. Been here almost a decade and it’s never been this quiet and still. Even in the middle of night there’d be something. Owls, rats, crows, a fucking mosquito. Something,” Gutierrez said as if she could hear his thoughts.
“You got anything big in the lake?” Wil asked.
“Fish. Trout. Biggest I ever saw was a few feet long. Why?” Gutierrez asked and Wil told her about the shape he had seen past the abandoned boat. “Holy shit. A couple hours ago I’d have said you were high or stupid. Really glad we’re driving away from the lake now.”
“I am too but what I mean is, the things we’ve seen. They all used to be something that was natural,” Wil said. “Whatever was in the lake was massive. Even Sandoval…when he changed, he didn’t get more than a few feet taller. Whatever was in the lake was bigger than both of these jeeps put together. If there was nothing really big in the lake to begin with, what was it?”
“Hell if I know,” Gutierrez said with a sigh. “I got enough on my damn plate right now. I’m just trying not to imagine any of this shit happening to my family.”
The trail continued forward, but Gutierrez made a sharp left along a smaller trail that lead up a steep incline. The trail was rockier, and the jeep bumped and jostled along it as Gutierrez cut their speed and put it into four-wheel drive. Wil held onto the sides of his seat as the jeep rocked and bounced upward.
There was still no movement beyond the windows, but Wil did notice that it was getting darker. He checked his watch. 4:07 PM. It was October, sure, and it was overcast, but it was still too early for it to be getting this dark. The trees started to thin the further up the mountain they went, which should have let more light down.
The jeep gave a final jolt as it crested the top of the mountain path and a squat, wooden shack came into view. A tall, narrow metal structure rose up behind the shack, the top of it sharply bent to one side as if it had been struck by something. A third Oak Rest Park jeep was parked next to the shack, the driver’s side and rear doors open.
“Well, I guess we know what’s wrong with the radio,” Gutierrez said as she got out of the jeep and looked up at the bent antennae. “And Jacobs can’t be far.”
O’Donnell pulled up behind them with a grinding of rock and earth and rubber. He all but jumped out of the jeep while Matsuda remained inside and scanned the area from behind the windows and locked doors. When O’Donnell and Gutierrez approached sole wooden door of the shack, he finally exited the jeep, and Wil followed his lead.
“Door’s still locked,” O’Donnell said as he lifted up a small padlock.
“What’s in there?” Wil asked.
“Tools. A few spare walkie-talkies. A dusty-ass old cot and a couple first-aid kits,” Gutierrez said while O’Donnell fumbled with a ring of keys at his belt. Matsuda had strapped a pistol to his belt at some point during the ride with O’Donnell, the same sort of hand gun the other rangers had, and Wil further felt like he was being excluded from the cool kids’ club. An absurd feeling, given the circumstances, but still there nonetheless.
The old man put a hand on the pistol and circled around one side of the shack and Wil followed him at a distance. He came around the back of the shack where the antennae was surrounded by a small chain link fence, then stopped short.
“What is it?” Wil asked and walked up to Matsuda’s side.
The chain link fence sported a large hole in it from top to bottom. The thin interlocking metal wires had been yanked apart by something and shoved aside. A small metal box that looked like it had been a power source of some kind was flattened and broken off of where it had been attached to the antennae pole itself.
Within the perimeter of what remained of the fence, against the back wall of the wooden shack, was a wide smear of what had once been a man. Wil only knew it had been a person because the legs and hands were still intact. The rest had been shredded and pulped and squished against the ground and the back wall of the shack. The earth was a wet, rusty brown from the blood, and there were torn pale tubes that might have been intestines at some point. The head had been scraped off and brain, teeth, and a crushed eyes stuck to the wooden side of the shack, so there was only a ragged red stump of a neck and the bottom of a hairline.
Wil recognized the boots and the pants as the same ones Gutierrez and the other rangers wore. He covered his mouth, then turned and began to vomit.
“Guess we found Jacobs,” Matsuda said with a sad sigh.