“I already told you what the fuck happened!” said Brendan. He was the driver of the piece of shit car that was now missing passenger windows, a windshield, the right headlight, and had a massive dent on the right side.
“I advise you to calm down for a minute,” said Officer Harbour. He was usually a polite and patient person. This moment was no exception. He saw the fear in Brendan’s eyes as he spoke. Brendan’s body convulsed; he coughed and cried like he had an episode of PTSD. “Let’s go back real quick,” Harbour added. “You said you guys went into the mountains during all the local festivities. And what ended up happening?”
“I told you! There was that … thing! Whatever the fuck that thing was!”
“Deep breaths, please. Just stay calm.” Jesus, if this guy had a nickel for each time he said that in his career, he would’ve had one year’s paycheck. “Let’s go back to the beginning: You guys had planned on leaving town during the festivities to go up into the mountains. Tell me what happened, from beginning to end.”
* * *
The Fourth of July in Yancey, California, was one of the most celebrated holidays in the town (behind Christmas). It was the only day of the year when all five thousand people got out and did something to celebrate their autonomy, whether that was going to a barbeque, setting off fireworks, going down to the local lake, hanging out at the Yancy Fair, or pulling out their guns and cracking a few shots in the air (after all, it was redneck territory). Every year, some teenagers took advantage of the fact that most of the adults were preoccupied with the celebrations; the teenagers then snuck off and did teenage things: Some of them went out and smoked weed, hotboxing in their cars; others went out to the quiet side of the lake where they ended up skinny dipping, made out in the water, and sometimes fucked on the shore and got sand in the wrong spots.
Yes, that sounded like teenagers.
This year, Brendan had plans.
Back in May, he got his driver's license and inherited the piece of shit sedan his parents had hanging around for him. For high schoolers, especially those in a small town in a small California county, the driver’s license symbolized freedom. And this summer, he would exercise his new freedom: he would go up into the mountains on the Fourth of July. Because he finally had a car, he could get there faster than when he rode his bike up there.
The original plan was to only take his girlfriend, Esme. He envisioned the two of them sitting on the hood, looking down at the town from the mountain road and watching the fireworks crackle in the sky, lighting it up with iridescent colors. He imagined wrapping her up in his arms, kissing her skin before getting to her lips, and, before long, most likely going to town on the nasty car hood.
That was not what ended up happening.
He planned this little date night with Esme in the middle of June. She was all for it. She was so excited that she told her friend Kat about this anticipated date night. Being the airhead she was, Kat, for some reason, thought it would’ve been fun to do it as a double date. (Her boyfriend, Marcus, was Brendan’s best friend.) And because Kat always got her way, she and Marcus forced themselves into Brendan and Esme’s plans. In any other context, Brendan would’ve been fine with Marcus coming, considering they were best friends—but he didn’t want his best friend there when Brendan planned on it being a romantic night between him and Esme. Marcus never considered Brendan’s relationship, either: he was as much of an airhead as Kat.
So that was the plan: four going up in the mountains on the Fourth of July.
Only three came back.
* * *
When Brendan awoke on the morning of the Fourth, he already had a message from Marcus—not much of a surprise there.
Marcus: What time are you grabbing me and Kat?
Brendan: IDFK. Sometime around 9? Maybe a little later? IDK.
Marcus: Well, figure it out. Just so I can figure something out at home.
Typical Marcus—always expecting answers.
During the afternoon, Brendan and Esme went to the fair. They went on the Ferris Wheel at one point and had a make-out session when it topped at the top (talk about another thing to cross off their summer bucket list). Before the sun went down, he took her home. When he dropped her off, he told her he would come back when he could.
Brendan’s family always hosted a barbeque, inviting friends, family, and neighbors. Every year, his parents go drunk, too; so drunk that they couldn’t light fireworks, so somebody else had to do that, usually one of Brendan’s uncles. This year was no exception: His father’s grip was so bad that night he couldn’t get the lighter going; his mother couldn’t walk in a straight line, either. This year, he would take advantage of his parents’ inebriated state and sneak off. He wasn’t much company, anyway, so nobody would notice if he slipped off.
So he slipped through the front door, got in his car, and headed to Esme’s house. After picking her up, they headed to get Marcus and Kat. They stood on Marcus’s front lawn, waiting. “Well, Uber Brendan is finally here,” Marcus said in his smart-ass tone when he entered the backseat.
Brendan said, “My only rule right now is no making out in the backseat. You guys got that?”
“Of course! I would never break your rules!”
Total bullshit; everyone in the car knew it. Marcus did it all the time. There wasn’t a single time when he did follow the rules. So, because it was he and Kat, they started making out in the backseat—their exchange of slobber filled the car. Brendan and Esme looked at each other, curling their lips; Esme even simulated regurgitation. Esme eventually had enough of the two making out and pepper-sprayed them, not getting their eyes. A bitch move, but it got the job done.
Because of how lively the Fourth was in Yancey, it was hard for Brendan to navigate his way out of town without accidentally killing any kids. So, as he drove around—the fireworks erupting in the sky and the kids running in the streets—he drove slowly until he got to the outskirts. Once he was going along the back roads, he hit the gas. Everyone in the car flew back, hitting their heads against the headrests. Esme grabbed the handle attached to the door. She told Brendan to slow down; he didn’t listen. They approached the lake. Brendan looked at it as he drove by: Teenagers were skinny dipping—typical. Not far down from the lake was the bridge over the river that fed into the lake. Somewhere on the other side of the bridge would be where he would have to turn right and go up a dirt path. There weren’t any landmarks for him to use, so he would have to follow his intuition. At one point, when the car had slowed down, he looked over at Esme. They made eye contact and smiled. She blushed a little; he did, too. Then, Brendan returned his focus to the road before reaching out and taking Esme’s hand.
* * *
“Can I have a tissue, please?” Esme asked Officer Harbour. Her face was puffy, red, and tattered with tear tracks.
Officer Harbour handed her the tissue box. Sitting on the desk was another box he hadn’t opened yet—his backup if the current one ran empty.
He had his notes out. It included all the notes he got from Brendan. Harbour didn’t exactly believe Brendan’s story; however, after hearing only a little bit of Esme’s perspective, he started to believe Brendan’s side. Glancing over his notes, he noticed the stories lined up so far. She wasn’t at the juicy stuff yet, but the lead-up was more of the same. Some things she wasn’t meticulous with; she wasn’t a witness to some of the things Brendan saw, so how would she know unless Brendan shared everything with her? “Are you ready to continue?” he eventually asked her.
She looked at him and shook her head.
“Why?”
“Because this is the part I can’t shake. I didn’t sleep at all last night because of it! And you want me to recount it to you like I’m some kind of puppet? Don’t you already have Brendan’s side—”
“Please. I know it sounds unproductive, but bear with me—”
She shivered.
“Sorry,” he said. “Poor choice of words. I only want the details straight; that’s all. I’m not accusing anybody of anything. I only want answers. Is that so hard to ask for?”
She shook her head. She blew her nose, wiped her face with a separate tissue, and continued.
* * *
They went as far as the dirt road took them. At the end of this dirt road was a recently built parking lot. Near the lot was a trail that led up to the summit, a recent attraction put together by the town. To the right of the dirt road was a metal barricade like the ones on a freeway.
When Brendan got close to the parking lot, he parked at an angle where the front fender was just short of touching the barricade. They all got out and lined up against the metal. Down below, they saw the entire small town of Yancey—all five square miles. The lights shining out from barbeques were visible; the flashes of color from the ignited fireworks shined, too. In the distance, there was the fair: The Ferris Wheel stood in the sky; fireworks exploded behind it, flashing bright shades of red, blue, yellow, and orange.
“It’s gorgeous,” Esme told Brendan. She had her arm wrapped around him.
He put his arm around her and pulled her in closer, feeling her warmth. “There’s a reason I wanted to come out here.”
“I get it now. You always seem to know what’s best when it comes to these things.”
They sat down on the still-warm hood of the car. Esme leaned up against him as they looked down. The summer heat kept hitting them. In their minds, this was an ideal summer date: hanging out away from the adults, being with each other, and embracing the fireworks from a distance, not worrying about burning themselves; there was no need for blankets, either.
Marcus and Kat stood on the other side of the car, looking down at the town. Marcus, of course, tried to find his house to make that stupid and old joke.
(Hey! I can see my house from here!)
Thank God he couldn’t find it; if he had said that, Brendan would’ve been half-tempted to slug him square in the face or push him over the barricade.
“I guess you do know your spots, Brendan,” Marcus said, leaning on the metal. The faint summer breeze brushed his hair.
“Yes, I do. I’ve come up here a few times before. This is actually where my parents met, which I know is a little weird, but it was on a busy hiking day. Long before they put this parking lot in, it was just a giant dirt patch, and this was an official hiking trail. Hell, this barricade hadn’t been built yet. They climbed up to the summit together, felt the fall wind go by, and then got burritos after. They brought me here once a long time ago, and I’ve remembered it ever since. I liked bringing my bike up here growing up. Ever since I started dating Esme, I’ve wanted to bring her up here: it’s quiet and private.”
“Well, if y’all want some privacy and get spicy, Kat and I can walk away for a little bit.”
“As long as you guys don’t end up fucking on poison ivy or something. If my parents—especially my mother—find out I illegally drove you guys out here, I’ll be doing manual labor for weeks on end.”
“Yes, Dad. Don’t worry about us.”
Brendan knew the last comment had to be facetious; however, he still didn’t trust Marcus; Brendan felt he always had to babysit him. It didn’t cause a rift in their friendship—it was more of an inconvenience. But Marcus was an independent soul with an independent mind, so Brendan could only go so far; sometimes, he had to let Marcus learn his lessons the hard way.
Brendan gestured for Marcus and Kat to go on their way. The couple smiled, blushed, grabbed their hands, and ran away like the stupid teenagers they were. Brendan and Esme shook their heads as their friends ran across the dirt road and into the dense frondescence. Why the hell were they going in there? Well, they were airheads; they didn’t think things through very often.
“Do you think we should’ve advised them to not go in there?” Esme said.
“I think they’ll be fine.”
* * *
“Why do you think she said this?” Officer Harbour had asked Brendan when he told this part of the story.
“How the hell am I supposed to know? We thought it was common sense to not go in there. There could’ve been poison ivy or something. We don’t know what could’ve been in there.”
“So is that insinuating that you knew something was lurking in there?”
Brendan leaned back in his chair, indignant. He shook his head. “Is this supposed to be entrapment or something?”
“No, it isn’t. I’m just trying to get my facts straight so we can figure out what happened to your friend. I’m not suggesting there was foul play, but rather want to make sure you’re all cleared.”
“What the fuck? Why are you accusing me of killing someone? I don’t have a bad bone in my body, damn it! I can’t even kill the spiders that hang out in our garden shed, because I don’t want to kill them! If I can’t even kill an insect, what makes you think I could’ve killed someone?”
“I’m not saying you’ve killed anyone directly. It could’ve been a plan. You could’ve been an accomplice.”
“Bullshit. I’ve never gotten into trouble in my life.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
Brendan shook his head. “You haven’t talked to the other two yet, huh?”
“No.”
“Well, maybe once you talk to them, you’ll realize I’m innocent. I didn’t do anything! And I don’t want to tell you anything anymore, because you’re going to use it against me. I’ve seen people do that. I’m not that stupid!”
“Take it easy, Brendan. You have immunity, remember? So tell me what happened. If we’re going to find out what happened to your friend, we need as much information as possible. So, please, keep going. I’ll keep my mouth shut if I have to.”
Brendan sighed. Then, he said, “There weren’t any sounds coming from that area for a while.” He paused. “Then, things suddenly changed.”
* * *
Marcus and Kat held hands as they made their way through the foliage. They stomped on leaves and twigs; they crunched and snapped under their feet. They went further and further in. As they did, they lost sight of the sedan and the road. Did they dare keep going? They weren’t using their heads (Marcus was currently thinking with the wrong one—if you know what I mean). They stopped. They still giggled and held each other close, staring into each other’s eyes.
“You think they’re already fucking on the hood?” Marcus asked her.
“I don’t know. Let’s listen.”
They stopped talking and listened. They listened hard. There were only bird chirps and the fireworks exploding—not a single sexual moan filled the air.
“Nope. Sounds like they’re not. Probably making out if you ask me,” Kat said.
“And speaking of which…”
Marcus pressed his lips against hers and slipped in a little tongue. Kat moaned as she kissed him back. She put her hands behind his neck while he put his on her waist. They exchanged saliva. There was a large tree to their right. So Kat turned their bodies towards it and slammed Marcus’s back onto the trunk. She did it a little too hard: he flinched, let go of her, and touched his back. He said it hurt like shit. She apologized; he accepted it faster than he should’ve. They resumed their ardent kiss.
They kept going until Kat pulled away. She had a perplexed look on her face as if she was attempting to figure something out. Marcus kept going to town, holding her head and kissing her neck. He was a little flustered that she wasn’t kissing him back. “C’mon, baby. What the hell’s wrong? You love doing this—”
“Shut up.”
She pushed his head away. She listened.
“What are you—”
“Shh!”
She put her finger against her mouth.
She heard something all right.
She never acted concerned like this—that wasn’t good.
She was afraid.
She didn’t think they were alone.
Then Marcus heard something: a crunching sound. It sounded like leaves and twigs snapping under a step, but the step had a certain weight.
“Do you think it was one of them?” Marcus whispered. He was referring to Brendan and Esme.
“No! Do you think their steps are that heavy? No. It has to be something else…”
She turned around and looked in the direction of the steps. She didn’t dare walk forward, fearing what it was on the other side. It had to be some animal. What kind of human had footsteps that heavy? Nobody.
Marcus stepped out in front of her, pushing her aside. She glared at him. She was strong and could take care of herself! So why was her airhead boyfriend getting in the way?
She grabbed his arm, attempting to pull him back. “You don’t know what’s over there!” she whispered. “What if it’s something dangerous? What if it happens to be a serial killer in disguise, trying to deceive us and make us think some kind of animal is over there?”
“Don’t be such a fucking pansy. I’ll poke my head through and see what’s over there. It’s probably nothing.”
He walked towards the shrubs. As he got closer, the crunching leaves on the other side became more audible. Leaves kept crunching under his feet, too. And as he got closer, he heard breathing on the other side. It was heavy. He started to feel nauseous. He held his stomach and gulped a few times.
He got a little closer.
His legs started to shake. His bottom lip twitched.
Kat was far behind, walking backward.
They both saw it: red eyes. They shined through the shrubs, being a deep, blood-red color. They stared at Marcus, who pissed his pants.
A growl came from the other side.
“Marcus. Get your ass back here now!” Kat whispered, fear heavy in her voice. She shook.
The thing on the other side took a step. Leaves and sticks crunched under its steps.
They ran, screaming.
Kat had turned in a heartbeat and was sprinting harder than ever before. Her arms moved back and forth, her heart palpitated, and her legs felt like they would come off. She didn’t dare look back. She heard the monster’s heavy steps and Marcus’s screams.
“Kat! Wait!” Marcus shouted.
That was when Kat realized she was far ahead of him. She had run faster than she thought. Not as fast enough to beat Trea Turner in a footrace, but still fast. Why did she never run this fast in gym class?
She got out of the foliage. A branch she pushed out of the way snapped back around and got her in the face, slicing her forehead. A little blood trickled out, but not enough to leave her concerned.
And there was Brendan and Esme walking away from the sedan. They looked concerned and scared. Esme ran over to Kat and put her arm around her. “What happened?” Esme asked.
Kat tried to speak but was too busy breathing. Her breathing was heavy. Her chest felt tight. She thought she would collapse at any given moment.
Rustling came from the foliage.
They all turned towards it.
Marcus jumped out. Twigs stuck out of his hair. Dirt covered his shirt and pants. He must have fallen at some point.
“What the hell is wrong?” Brendan exclaimed.
Marcus stood there, hunched over and catching his breath. His breathing got heavier and heavier; his heart went faster and faster; more and more sweat came off his forehead and dripped onto the dirt. “There’s something in there,” Marcus began, stammering.
Esme said, “You realize how equivocal that sounds—”
Right when she said that, the monster stuck its hirsute head out from the foliage, its blood-red eyes visible in the night.
One of its massive paws reached out and grabbed Marcus by the ankle.
It dragged him into the foliage.
It dragged him away so fast that nobody had time to react.
“Marcus!” Brendan cried out.
Brendan ran in that direction. He looked at where Marcus once stood: his blood covered the ground. Then, Brendan shot into the foliage against the girls’ will. He followed Marcus’s screams. He went further in, twigs snapping under his feet. Twigs from above smacked him in the face; one hit was so close to his right eye that he was fortunate to still have it.
Marcus’s screaming stopped.
Just out of the blue, it stopped.
Brendan kept going. He looked down. There was a divot in the ground. That must’ve been the path. Marcus’s body must’ve caused the divot. So Brendan followed it. This time, he ducked under the branches hanging above him.
Brendan stopped.
Brendan looked over a shrub. He shuddered.
There was Marcus’s corpse; the monster eviscerated it: the monster broke Marcus’s neck, his head hanging on by a few tendons; the life that once shined in his deep green eyes was now gone; his tongue hung out; blood trickled out from under his nose.
And this thing devouring Marcus’s body had to be a bear. That was what Brendan thought it was. It was big and black, like a black bear, weighing around three hundred pounds. But the way it behaved? Either it had to be crazy or uncharacteristically violent. And the bear didn’t seem to realize Brendan was right there: it kept its face in Marcus’s ripped-open gut, eating the organs like candy.
Brendan backed away. He reached out his hands, feeling his surroundings, keeping his breath under while he continued to sweat—
He stepped on a twig.
It crunched under his foot.
The bear-thing lifted its head. There were the blood-red eyes staring at Brendan.
Brendan felt like his soul left his body as soon he made eye contact with the bear-thing.
The bear-thing opened its mouth, flashing its large teeth speckled with blood.
It stood on its hind legs, making it seem larger and trying to intimidate Brendan. It snarled at him before it let out a roar. Yes, it sounded like an American black bear.
Brendan ran.
Brendan pulled out the car keys, put them under his chin, and pressed the unlock button, hoping the signal could reach the car through all this foliage. He kept sprinting. The bear’s heavy thumps were right behind him. How long could he stay in front of this thing?
Brendan got out of the foliage with only a few scratches on his legs (because of the twigs and branches hanging down at ground level).
The girls stood by the car; their bodies shook.
“Get in the car! Now!” Brendan yelled.
The girls did it with no hesitation. The car was unlocked. Thank God Brendan put the key under his chin.
They got in.
Brendan didn’t wait for them to buckle up. He put the car in gear and got in reverse, pulling away from the railing.
Then, Kat screamed from the backseat: “WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING?!”
The bear-thing had broken through the foliage. Its blood-red eyes shined in the dark. It snarled as it looked at the car. Drool dripped from its mouth.
Brendan didn’t even look at the thing and got a chill down his spine.
He booked it. “This piece of shit better get moving!” He hadn’t looked in the mirror yet. He didn’t know if the bear-thing was following them. He would use Kat and Esme’s screams as indicators.
He took turns harder than he should’ve. Some were so sharp everyone thought the car would tip over. It never did.
Kat had calmed down in the back. She still looked through the rear window. Her breathing was still intense, but she wasn’t screaming. “I think we lost it.” Yes, that blood-red shine wasn’t following them. She took a massive sigh of relief.
Up ahead was the end of the dirt road. That meant they were almost to the back roads. That meant they were almost home. When everyone realized that, their anxiety started to relax. Esme even reached over to Brendan’s hand and held it—
A powerful force struck the passenger side of the car. The force was so strong it pushed the car to the left. It almost went into the foliage. The passenger windows shattered; glass rained down onto Esme and Kat. The front windshield cracked on the passenger side, too. It barely held together and would shatter after going over a nasty pothole.
Brendan clutched the steering wheel with both hands, pulling it back onto the road.
Kat screamed. “IT’S BACK!” She watched the bear-thing run behind the car and move to the driver’s side. “Brendan! Be careful! It’s on your side!”
He attempted to stay calm. “We’ll be okay. We have to get the hell out of here.”
He took the left turn onto the road. Dirt clouds kicked up from behind as he took the hard turn. The girls screamed as he did. Loose glass shards rained down. The girls covered their faces.
Brendan booked it down the road. He slammed his foot so hard into the gas pedal he felt he would push it through the carpet. High above, fireworks continued to erupt in the sky; none of them cared about the fireworks anymore.
The speedometer reached eighty. The car started to shake.
“Slow down!” Esme shouted. She touched the dashboard; it still shook. There was now a rattling on the inside like a part had come loose. The last thing they needed was for the car to fall apart like a clown car in a cartoon.
Brendan didn’t slow down. He pushed ninety now—
The bear-thing came running out into the road. It stood right in the middle, headlights shining on it: big and black like an American black bear; blood-red eyes; massive feet; lots of teeth with many coated in fresh blood; a roar that sounded like a bear’s but was rougher—like if you rubbed sandpaper against it.
It stood on its hind legs while the car came towards it.
Brendan hit the brakes.
The car swerved left and right, almost out of control.
The bear-thing got down onto all fours and waited.
It stood there snarling, salivating, and growling.
Brendan did his best to avoid the bear-thing. He turned the wheel, hoping they went fast enough to get around. The bear-thing still came after them.
It got too close: the right headlight struck the left side of its face.
The windshield shattered onto Brendan and Esme, who tried to shield themselves.
There was a CRUNCH as the car hit the bear-thing.
The car spun, almost hitting the rock on the left side of the road.
The back of the car hit the rock.
It stopped.
Everyone groaned. Their eyes were shut. Their heads hurt. Their bodies ached. It all seemed like a dream.
It wasn’t: The bear-thing lay in the middle of the road on its stomach; it got up and stared at the car with only one red eye before walking away into the foliage, snarling the whole time.
* * *
“You didn’t see it again, correct?” Officer Harbour asked Kat.
Kat sat in the chair. Like Esme, tear tracks covered her face, which was red and puffy. Her eyes were red, too. Many used tissues were on the floor and desk. “No. I barely even remembered seeing it after we crashed. At that moment, I thought I was dreaming; I thought it was all a bad dream. My head hurt, and I couldn’t walk straight. This morning, though, I realized it was reality. I saw the injuries on my face. Then, I remembered Marcus…” She reached for a tissue, blew her nose, then wiped her new tears with a fresh tissue.
Officer Harbour wrote something down on his notes. “Okay. My crew and I will look into what happened. I’m certain you and your friends are free to go for now. I’ll contact each of you if we need to bring someone back in. Understood?”
Kat nodded.
“Good. You’re free to go. And take the tissues with you in case you need them.”
Kat got up and walked out, blowing her nose. The box of tissues was in her other hand.
Officer Harbour walked back to his office. He logged everything on his computer. Even though the stories lined up, he still didn’t believe it. None of it.
He had to check it out for himself.
He didn’t tell anybody where he went, only telling the others he was off on his lunch break. So he got in his car, started it up, and drove to the mountain. It was a Tuesday, so most likely, there wouldn’t be many people up there.
When he got up there, taking the dirt road and following the path all three teenagers told him, he got to where they stopped. Nobody up here. He could do his search in peace.
He got out and closed the door. Just before him was the foliage opening that he assumed the bear-thing dragged Marcus through—if that was what happened.
He walked towards the foliage and slipped through. Leaves and twigs snapped under his feet, like when Marcus and Kat came through.
He looked around, examining the ground and seeing if there were any leads.
He walked around for about five minutes, feeling this trip was abortive, and was out on another wild goose chase—
Then, he found the already decomposing corpse of Marcus, laying on foliage, flies buzzing around it, and its chest and stomach ripped open like Brendan said.
But anything could’ve done that…
A crunch came from his left.
“Who’s there?” he called out.
Nothing.
“This is Officer Harbour of the Yancey Police Department. I demand you leave the perimeter immediately.”
Another crunch on the other side.
“Fine. Have it your way.”
He walked through and was face to face with the bear-thing.
It stood there on all fours. It was massive and black, just like the teenagers said.
It had blood-red eyes, but one was missing: the left eye. A slice went right down the middle.
It let out its rough roar. It was exactly what the teens described: like sandpaper rubbed against it.
Harbour pissed his pants.
“Oh, fuck.”
He sputtered his last words.
02/18/2025
11:21:20 AM