With Dan gone, the next two days passed in a blur of endless rain and restless anticipation as I searched the sky for some sign of the flare he had promised to send up. Gazing out the back window of the Jeep with my eyes on the sky, I never saw a thing except clouds, but the shadows in the forest seemed to twist and writhe around me. I couldn't shake the sickening feeling of unseen eyes watching me.

At first, I thought the moving shadows were simply a trick of the eyes or my imagination running away with me, but the longer I stared out of the rain streaked windows of the Jeep, the more certain I became. There was indeed something lurking in the shadows of the forest, waiting for the opportunity to strike.

At the end of my third day stranded, I ate my last bits of solid food as the sun set. Streaks of red, orange and pink colored the sky and as I took stock of what I had left and I hoped with everything I was that the next day would be clear and dry. I still had a bag of candy bars, some trail mix, a bottle of water and a bottle of juice. That would hold me for another day at most, so despite my fears and the things lurking in the shadows, I was going to have to walk to the camp store in the morning, rain or shine.

I laid my head down, snuggling deep into my sleeping bag and began silently bidding the Jeep farewell.

I awoke the next morning to the cheery songs of birds outside my window. The sky was bright and the damp trees glistened in the pale rays of sun. I breathed a sigh of relief and rolled out of my sleeping bag to peer out of the windows. The forest looked oddly welcoming and I canted my head to one side in confusion. After so many days of darkness, the twisting shadows and sense of foreboding seemed to have blown away on the wind with the clouds. I opened the car door, cautiously at first and took in my surroundings. A light breeze whispered through the treetops carrying with it the sweet scent of clean, damp earth and early budding life. The air was fresh and devoid of the sulfurous rot that had surrounded me for days.

Had I imagined the entire thing? Did I really let my anxiety keep me stuck in the Jeep for three solid days?

My heart beat strong with excitement and relief. I was going to be able to get out of there. I could save myself. I packed carefully and closed the doors, but left them unlocked. If anyone else was stuck up here, maybe the Jeep could give them a dry place to rest. I set out down the road at a determined pace, chin held high.

Casting one last look back at the Jeep as I walked away, I nearly started crying seeing it disappear behind me surrounded by fallen debris. I blinked away the tears that threatened and rubbed my face concentrating on the obstructions in the road.

The last thing I needed was to fall and hurt myself because I was getting all sentimental about a piece of machinery, but some of my best memories involved that old car. So many adventures, so many miles, so many years together. I pushed all of it to the back of my mind. Survival should be first and foremost. I needed to make a plan to get myself home. If the phones worked at the camp store, I could get a hold of a tow company to retrieve the Jeep and then finally call my mom to let her know I was alright. Maybe Dan was there too, still waiting on me?

The sun was shining and the birds were singing again. I could do this. Even though I was still up shit creek without a paddle, it didn't seem so bad. I could get myself out of the forest.

I continued down the road, scrambling over downed trees and branches, whistling to myself to pass the time. Step by step, making my way to safety. I counted my steps trying to measure distance and time. I had been walking for what seemed like hours when I nearly stepped in a large puddle.

No, not a puddle.

I looked closer.

It was watery blood smear, liquid red and disturbing. Just beside it, a long drag mark of a black, gelatinous substance led across the road and disappeared into the ditch. Could it have been from roadkill? I didn't remember seeing any while I had been driving up the mountain, but that had been days ago. Could I have missed something in the road like that?

My heartbeat picked up, pounding as if trying to escape my chest. The blood smear was curiously close to a discarded bottle of juice.

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What in the actual...?

I knelt down to inspect a plastic bag speckled with more of the black substance about ten feet away from the blood.

It was a half-eaten bag of jerky.

My eyes went wide, instantly swinging to the bushes and grass that crowded the roadside and my blood ran cold.

"Dan?" I called out, my eyes darting from the bushes to the deep shadows in the forest. "Dan!" Panic was setting in.

Had I actually seen a shadow in the bushes when Dan had left? No, my eyes had to have been playing tricks on me. I had smelled something too though...and that...that was definitely my bag of jerky.

"Christ," I whispered as I took off down the road at a dead run, my heavy pack bouncing awkwardly on my back. I ran like the devil himself was after me. My lungs burned, my legs felt like jello, my pack began rubbing blisters on my shoulders and back, but still, I ran. And when I finally stumbled up to the front door of the camp store it was locked up tight like no one had been there in days.

"Oh, no." I whispered. There was a good reason I had never seen a flare.

Dan had never made it.

I circled the building frantically calling out to anyone who might be around, but it was empty. There was a large shed nearby, also locked, and a carport with two cars in it.

Around the back side of the camp store building there was what appeared to be living quarters. After pounding on every door and window again, I decided to break in. I'm no thief, but my brother and I had climbed in through an unlocked window a time or two over the years. Scanning the other buildings, I spotted a five-gallon bucket and using it as a makeshift stepladder, I peered into every window I could reach. One was unlocked. Carefully as I could, I removed the screen and pulled the window open.

"Hello?" I called into the room one more time just in case someone hadn't heard all the pounding and yelling before.

The house was silent, so I retrieved my pack and tossed it through the window then climbed in after it, closing the window behind me. A dim bedroom greeted me. It didn't appear to be one that was used often, the furniture was sparse while the bedding and decor appeared untouched. I opened the door and carefully crept down the hallway. A bathroom and second bedroom passed to my left. Both were empty but showed signs that they had been occupied recently. Dresser drawers had been pulled out and many empty hangers hung in the open closet. I continued on.

At the other end of the long hallway sat a small entryway and a third bedroom, large and neatly arranged. It was clear that it was a woman’s room by the decor and collection of perfume bottles that sat on a wide dresser. Though the closet door was open with many empty hangers, the bed was made and everything else was tidy.

Back in the hallway, a wide doorway opened to a great room. Kitchen cabinets were open and the dining table looked as if it had been hastily cleared. The living room was simple but cozy, the couch and overstuffed chairs all faced a large wood stove fireplace.

It appeared that whoever had lived and worked there had left in a hurry.

Continuing on, I reached for a light switch and flicked it. Nothing happened so I made my way into the camp store proper. The rows of refrigerators and freezers were dark so I walked behind the front desk and into the deli kitchen. The industrial freezer was closed and still cold, but it wasn't running. Turning back to the front desk, I ran to the land line phone and yanked the handset up, carefully pressing it to my ear. Silence.

"I'll be damned," I muttered shaking my head a setting the phone back down. Dan had been right.

I paled at the notion that I was now considered an apocalypse survivor...for the time being anyway, and I wracked my brain for movie and television examples of what to do in this sort of situation, but my mind was blank.

Exhausted, hungry and afraid, I knew I wouldn't be able to think straight until I got some food in my belly and some quality sleep. After perusing the store, I settled down at the table for a dinner of crispy rice treats and corn chips, washed down with a blue sports drink.

When I was finished, I wandered my new home, familiarizing myself with it. There was no television which seemed odd, but in what would have been the perfect place for a flat screen or entertainment center, sat an enormous built-in bookshelf. Hundreds of books occupied the space in neat rows and I smiled to myself. A television would be a waste anyway since there was no electricity. The kitchen was well stocked with cooking utensils and the food pantry was filled with canned and shelf stable foods. The refrigerator had been mostly emptied save for condiments and food storage containers filled with leftovers. I would have to deal with those eventually.

As far as places that I could have been stuck went, I counted myself extremely lucky to have ended up the camp store. It was set up like a small-town mini market; a small grocery store complete with a little deli counter and grill, while hunting and fishing gear, along with ammunition, basic camping supplies and Pacific Northwest swag in the form of jackets, shirts, shot glasses, magnets, stickers and stationery occupied the back corner.

I picked up a stout, leather journal and pen turning it over in my hands, pondering. Maybe keeping a diary would help me process the situation I had found myself in? At the bare minimum, it could help pass the time.

Running my hands absently across the textured cover of the journal, I walked back into the living quarters and to the spare room. It didn't feel right taking the bed that belonged to one of the people that called this place home before me. I removed my soiled clothes and changed into my sweatpants and night shirt.

Settling onto the bed, journal in my lap, I began to write. "I just spent three days hiding in my car and I'm pretty sure that Dan is dead."

The words poured out of me. All my fear, my confusion and wondering. When there was barely enough light to see by, I closed the journal and lay my head down. My mind whirled. I had no plan, no real survival skills, and my mom and brother were nearly one hundred miles away by road. God, were they ok? My heart clenched at the thought. What would I ever do without them? They were my life. And what about my friends? And DJ?

I was very, very alone. Tears threatened again but I stubbornly refused to let them fall. Crying about my situation wouldn't help a thing. I needed to gather supplies and make a plan to get home, but before I could do any of that, I needed to get my bearings and get some freaking shut-eye.