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Act I: Up A Creek

Eddie groaned, laying face-first in the dirt at the base of the hill he'd just tumbled down. He stayed still as he could, inhaling slowly as he waited for the worst of the pain to subside--any minute now, his uncle and everyone else would be charging down the side of the mountain to check on him, and make sure he was okay. He just had to make sure that he was coherent enough for them to actually talk with him.

Two minutes passed... Then three... maybe even ten. There wasn't so much as a shout of concern behind him. Eddie felt his heart beat a bit faster, and he forced himself to roll over, groaning mightily as he did so. He stared up at the sky for a few moments, controlling his breathing as he tested his arms and legs, moving each to make sure nothing was broken.

Satisfied that he wasn't _utterly_fucked, Eddie climbed to his feet, groaning softly before brushing the worst of the dirty and leaves that caked his jeans away. One the way down, he'd suffered a pretty nasty gash to his right leg--just above the knee. It wasn't bad enough that he couldn't walk, but it was bleeding pretty steadily. So far as he could tell, that was the only thing really wrong with him.

Until he looked up. While he knew the Appalachians like the back of his hand--particularly the trail that he and his uncle had been on, he was nowhere near the mountains he'd grown up so close to. Eddie's jaw went slack as he stared up the side of the rolling hill in front of him. He'd never seen it before; and it wasn't the heavily wooded area that he'd just been in.

What the hell? Eddie thought to himself, his heart skipping a beat before his hands grabbed at his own belt. His pistol was still on his right hip, and the walkie-talkie on his left.

He yanked the radio upwards, fumbling for a moment to turn the walkie-talkie on, only to force the button down unnecessarily hard. "Uncle Stephen!?" He shouted into the receiver. He waited for a moment, swallowing hard before trying again. "Uncle Stephen? Dad? Can anybody else hear me!?" He yelled into the radio.

There was no response.

Eddie swallowed hard, rubbing at his throat as it tightened. What if something had happened to them? Where was Eddie even at? He looked up the hill to see if there was even a shred of a clue. Everything was covered in trees--almost impossibly so, even--all except the single swathe of grass and soft earth that Eddie had tumbled down. He turned from the hillside to try and get a better look at where he was at, but it sure as hell wasn't the Rutger's property on the Kentucky border.

In front of Eddie now was a forest unlike anything that he'd ever seen before. Trees that were large enough to be at least a hundred, maybe even a hundred fifty years old--perhaps even older--formed a wall in front in front of him. The base of the trees was surrounded by undergrowth that was so dense he didn't think he'd make it through with a machete and a tactical nuke. The bushes and plants had all but congealed into a single mass of leaves and vines--a floor of them that rose to about Eddie's waist. The only space that was cleared appeared to be an extension of the inexplicable downhill clearing that Eddie had so graciously tumbled down.

He felt his heart pound in his chest as he looked up to the canopy of the forest. The trees themselves were taller than some of the buildings he'd ever seen in his life; he guessed them to be maybe sixty, even seventy feet high. Branches were heavy with fruits that he'd never seen, all the size of footballs, and leaves were a rich, deep shade of green, contrasting the nearly black treebark. Each bit of fruit was a different variation of reds and yellows, almost as if they were some sort of mutant apple. Eddie took a small step back as something that looked like a wasp began to buzz toward one of the fruits.

Normally, Eddie didn't mind bugs. He'd always heard that wasps were cunts with wings, sure, but they'd never bothered him. At least, not the wasps he was used to. He couldn't make out many details of the creature from this distance, but if he had to guess it was the size of a chihuahua; he could hear the low thrum of its wings even from here.

He didn't need an invitation to pull the pistol--his favored Smith and Wesson Shield--from its holster. Sure it was only 9 millimeter, but it felt more comfortable to have it readily available, in case he needed it. He just prayed that he didn't.

I've still got this at least... Eddie thought to himself, his knuckles almost white against the grip of his pistol. Eddie wasn't about to just field strip it here, but when he tested it, the slide moved back, and it could chamber as well as eject a round. That's all that he needed to know.

"Don't just do something... Stand there." Eddie murmured out loud to himself. It was all but a mantra that Uncle Stephen had told him once upon a time. "Get safe, then get your head on straight, and figure out what needs to be done. Panicking will kill you faster."

_Figure how where the problem is..._Eddie's thoughts continued. He forced himself to focus on the phrase, driving panic away from the corners of his mind. He tried to pinpoint anything that had been out-of-the-ordinary over the course of the day, but came up empty. All in all, it had been disgustingly normal.

The Rutgers were a family that owned a ranch at the base of a mountainside in northern Tennessee, they were old friends of Uncle Stephen's. War buddies, if Eddie remembered correctly. Uncle Stephen had been asked to head up and do some landscape management in the area, and asked Eddie and his dad to come along. They'd of course said yes--coyotes were trouble for the livestock, and the wild boars out there meant dozens of pounds of free bacon. Plus, Eddie and his father always liked getting out into the hills; got them away from all of the garbage their day jobs tended to provide.

They'd gone up early that morning; pancakes and sausage for breakfast, made by Aunt Tanya, all wrapped up in tin foil and mushed to hell. It was the perfect finger food for an outing. Everything had seemed so perfect at the time, and now...? Eddie swallowed hard, his throat tight worry as he turned his head slowly to look around the perimeter.

There was the narrowest of paths between the base of the hill, and the otherwise insurmountable treeline--Eddie knew that was going to be his only way out of here. But before he got much further, he would need his gear.

He turned once more to face the hillside, wetting his lips as he tried to get a look at where his backpack, and his AR-15 may have landed on his way down the hill. He still couldn't even figure out how he'd managed to land safely. Glancing back up the hill, it was anything but a cosy ramp, or set. It made him feel like a bit of a badass, knowing that he'd managed to survive such a tumble.

Eddie vaguely remembered the sound of the AR-15 going off, and it was no doubt dropped or caught somewhere halfway up the hill--or at least he prayed it was. It sure as hell wasn't near where Eddie had landed, nor did he want to try and brave the brush looking for it.

Eddie slid the pistol back into the holster, sighing heavily. His hand traced along his belt to the small of his back. One of the two extra magazines he carried usually was still there, but the other was missing. Eddie took a second to look around, just to see if the other magazine had fallen someplace he could easily grab it, but there was no such luck. Just to be sure though, Eddie eyed the canopy as he approached the treeline, limping a bit owed to the gash on his knee. He leaned against a tree, trying to peer over the brush to see if his rifle had landed in the brush. If he had, he didn't see it.

He closed his eyes, then tilted his chin up toward the sky. _Fuck._He thought to himself, reaching down with a small groan to press the heel of his hand against the wound. His jeans had torn clean through, and whatever it was that got him wasn't stuck in the wound. It wasn't bleeding bad, but there was no way it was clean.

Eddie drew in a deep breath, rolling his shoulders before pushing away from the tree, and toward the clearing. He limped for a moment, before sucking it up and forcing himself to walk normally in spite of the pain in his knee. He had a first aid kit in his backpack--he just had to find where the thing had been flung.

He began the steady ascent from the base of the hill, wincing with every step as his knee protested the motions. He hadn't fallen as far as he thought he had, initially. He didn't particularly mind being wrong, and it did make retrieving his things easier. His AR-15--a Bushmaster Frankenstein of a rifle that his uncle had made for him--was pretty close to the base of the hill, considering. The sling wound its way around the triangular handguard, so it didn't snag on anything, but the guard and buttstock were both beat to shit.

Eddie rushed to pick it up and dust it off, Scowling some as he brushed dirt away from the bolt assemble, and checked the rifle. It still appeared to be in working order as well despite the cosmetic dings, and he let out a long, heavy sigh of relief. Looking further back up the hill, he narrowed his eyes in the noon light.

Only four or five yards away, his backpack was wedged on a tree--one of the shoulder straps torn to near-uselessness as it had been flung from his shoulder, and shredded on the way down. The backpack had never seen a worse day, and it worried Eddie for a moment, but the zippers were intact when he picked it up by the still-good shoulder strap, and it didn't seem like anything was broken when he opened it to inspect the supplies.

He carefully began to empty the contents of the backpack on the hillside next to him, counting everything as he did so. He'd carried his own first aid kit, which he pulled out immediately in order to tend to his knee, but also the food for himself and his uncle.

Eddie slung the backpack over his shoulder just as soon as his knee was bandaged, clutching the pistol grip of the rifle as he made his way heavily down the hill, so that he could up-end his backpack to get a better view of his supplies.

It had never felt like clutter to him. If anything, the contents of the pack was a sort of cool novelty item that he would grin about and show off--he was ready for anything with his pack! And now, to say it felt precious to Eddie was a criminal understatement. Someone out there would giggle and roll their eyes at the thought of such a preparedness kit, but now, Eddie was nearly nauseated with relief that he had it.

Sure, there were the survival essentials that Hollywood and stereotypes reinforced; a collapsible shovel, a pair of spare magazines for each of his firearms, as well as a spare box of ammo for both, a couple of MREs, a water filter, clean socks, matches, emergency radio, a canteen, duct tape, a few spare batteries for his phone... But it was the stuff that the movies _didn't_talk about that was important; and that is what Eddie was looking for.

Eddie's hand dove between the radio and the water filter as soon as he saw it; a small, red, waterproof tin. His hands fumbled as he fought to get the thing open--when it did, Eddie nearly jumped as the precious contents threatened to scatter.

Inside the tin were photographs. Some of them were aged, worn around the edges... But all of them were of family; the innumerable trips that he and his folks had taken up into the Central Appalachians, and down to the Lakes. It made Eddie's throat tight looking down at them; even bringing a tear to his eye as he stared at the grinning face of his father, mother and uncle.

Keep these on hand... His uncle's voice cautioned in the back of his mind. They'll keep your skills sharp. They'll remind you that you've got people waiting at home, depending on you to get back.

One of his favorite memories was in this box; a fishing trip that his uncle had all but kidnapped him for. He was younger then--more obsessed with the goings-on of his first year in middle school than going fishing. His uncle let him drop a stick of dynamite into a lake, just so that Eddie could watch hundreds of minnows rise to the surface. They even got the bass they were looking for.

Apparently it was illegal as all hell to do something like that--even on his own property. Eddie's uncle hadn't given a damn, and it had made him Eddie's idol.

He sniffed hard, blinking away another tear that threatened to form before rubbing the back of his hand across his face once more. He cleared his throat meaningfully, only to return the photographs to safety once more, and repack his bag. He used a few strips of duct tape to make the gnarled shoulder-strap workable once more, then stood, glancing up to the sky to see if he could tell which way was which.

Eddie glanced down to his knee--the blood hadn't seeped through the gauze, and that was promising. He exhaled hard, then glanced at the hill once more. Facing the hill, he was headed north... But with his knee as it was, he decided to not risk it, and instead travel the base of the incline.

The walk was a pleasant one, as far as his nerves would allow it to be. Eddie found himself constantly shuffling his backpack on his shoulder, and mulling his rifle over in his hands. He found it hard to ignore the terrors that itched at the back of his mind. Wherever he was, it wasn't anywhere he was familiar with--beyond the food in his backpack, he didn't know what he could, or couldn't eat, and he would need to find water soon as well.

He'd been an idiot, and had his uncle carry all of the fresh water--at least, everything that wasn't in the canteen he'd stuffed back in his backpack. Even if he used it sparingly, he had a day to find fresh water--or any sort of water that he could filter. This hillside was his best chance to find a river, or even a creek.

Eddie tried to keep his mind from wandering, forcing himself instead to focus on the here-and-now. He pulled the butt of the rifle in against his shoulder, his knuckles white over the handguard. His eyes scanned from as far as he could see in the treetops, and up and over the hills, trying to find any movement, or see anything that would give him a hint of where he was at. There was no such luck--not for hours.

Night descended faster than Eddie was comfortable with as well; while he hadn't been keeping track of the time he'd been walking, he was certain that it hadn't been from the morning, all the way until dusk. The already-dark sky churned, becoming steadily black, blotting out even the moon as the forest seemed to close in on the base of the hillside.

Eddie glanced up to the sky, wetting his lips carefully as he tried to calculate the best use of the external batteries for his cellphone, and the flashlight his cell phone came with. After all, it wasn't like he was going to be using it for anything else.

His eyes scanned the blackened sky; there was just enough light left to make out the shadows of the trees against the furthest points of the horizon. Eddie ran his fingers through his hair and swallowed the lump in his throat, only to reach into his pocket to retrieve his phone.

Otterbox for the win... Eddie thought to himself, grinning at the undamaged device as he turned the flashlight on. He shined it about the area--up the hillside for as far as the light would penetrate, across the treeline. Both seemed to continue forever, and it made him decide there was no point in walking further.

Not at night, at least.

Much to his dismay, however, there was no crags that he could slip behind, and no visible outcroppings in the trees, or rocks that could provide better shelter. He didn't dare try to take a swing at the wall of underbrush--and something about the woods just felt to dangerous to try and find a tree to sleep beneath.

As much as Eddie didn't like it, he used the flashlight to guide himself a bit further up the hillside, swinging it to and fro to try and find someplace at least a little bit more suitable. Halfway up the hill, he found almost exactly what he was looking for.

A larger rock tilted outward from the hillside, toward the forest. While it wasn't much, but it was enough for Eddie to lay his backpack down, and scoot in nice and close against the rock facing; it was also facing the open sky, which would be helpful for any helicopters or any other rescue attempt.

He started to let himself get comfortable, laying out his AR-15 next to him--sandwiching it between him and the rock facing. Just for security, he made sure that the selector was switched to 'safety' before yanking the charging handle back. He flinched as the rifle loaded a cartridge into the assembly.

Not because of the thought of ever having to use the rifle, but because he'd forgotten to do it earlier. If he'd needed to use the rifle beforehand... Eddie shuddered at the thought, setting it down once more before rummaging in his back for the emergency blanket. It was little more than a tin-foil sheet, but good God was it warm.

Eddie laid on his side, staring out into the inky blackness. His hand wandered beneath the blanket, resting his palm against the grip of his Shield. He scooted back against the rock a bit further, exhaling slowly as he closed his eyes, and tried to drift off.

Sleep didn't come. Not even a restless nap. As desperately as he wanted it, Eddie couldn't force himself to rest. The panic he'd tried to bottle up began to slowly creep back up through the corners of his mind--the thoughts of never seeing his family again beginning to coagulate.

His mind traced back over the conversations he'd had with everyone; he even checked his messages on his cellphone to try and find out if he'd left anyone on any bad sort of terms. So far as he remembered, he hadn't been in any large fight, or catastrophic situation before he... well... disappeared.

What would his uncle have said? What were his parents doing? Certainly they were worrying even more than Eddie was. He locked his jaw, planting the back of his head against the backpack forcefully.

He couldn't afford to be breaking down. Not now. Not ever. This was the sort of stuff his uncle had warned him about--the panic sinking in, and those feelings of existential dread; not knowing if he would ever see his family again.

I will. Eddie resolved silently to himself. I swear to God, I will see them again.

Eddie laid there, staring upward at the starless sky. He wasn't sure if it was going to rain; but he laid there all the same, half-covered in the survival blanket now as the midnight soundscape of the land began to settle in around him. Chittering of small mammals, a few whistles of birds that Eddie didn't recognize... Everything was natural enough for the time being, but he couldn't coax himself to sleep.

Eddie glanced from the skyline to the rock directly above him. He stared for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he tried to focus on the sounds around him. Again, there was only what Eddie could assume was the natural sounds of the night, until he heard a footfall.

The sound set him on edge--it wasn't the sound of a rubber boot sole hitting the ground, or someone trying to see what a survival blanket was. It was the sound made by someone who didn't want to be heard. Eddie had committed the sensation to memory after being scared shitless one-too-many times in the woods by his folks.

His grip tightened on the pistol, and he slid it out of its holster just as slowly as he was able, careful not to disturb the survival blanket more than necessary. The paper-thin sheet of reflective metal was anything but quiet. Whoever had been wandering so close heard him move, and had frozen in place themselves.

In a single, whirlwind of motion, Eddie ripped the pistol from the holster, swinging his arm out in front of him. He turned his phone, screen facing outward to get whatever sort of light he could in the direction of the footsteps. What he saw caught his breath in his throat.

Standing in front of him, hunched low, and now motionless, was the head of a wolf. Its eyes glinted in the dim light of the screen, and Eddie could barely make out a deep gash along its muzzle. He lowered the pistol some, retreating a step and swallowing, chuckling nervously to himself--then the creature stood up.

Eddie's jaw dropped as he watched the beast rise to its feet. He fumbled with his phone to turn on the flashlight, then shine it back in the creature's direction.

It was a... well, the closest thing that Eddie knew to call it was a werewolf. It stood on two legs--easily seven feet tall, broad shouldered and thick with muscle. Though muscle definition was widely lost by the thick, deep, gray and brown fur, Eddie got the impression that this wolf creature could have picked him up and thrown him like a rag doll. A simple necklace adorned its neck, obviously carved out of wood, with a layered series of pelts to form some sort of kilt.

"If you can understand me, stay. Back." Eddie found himself growling, raising the pistol to point it squarely at the creature's chest. The wolfman stood there for a moment, looking down at Eddie with a pair of eyes that glinted a shade of yellow in the phone's light.

The creature stood there, motionless and squinting, as if trying to look past the flashlight's blinding effect. Eddie's palm began to sweat as he took a small step backward, retreating from the creature--also to put himself closer to his rifle. It continued to stare as Eddie returned his pistol its holster, then ducked to pick up his rifle. He slung it awkwardly over the top of the arm that held his cell phone, taking far longer than he was comfortable with to recenter his aim at the wolf's chest.

"You are not an Elder." The creature said, breaking the long silence as Eddie pointed the rifle at him.

"I don't know what that is." Eddie admitted, wetting his lips as his mind raced for something resembling a diplomatic solution.

"You possess the marks of the Old Ways." The wolf cocked his head, his ears perking some as he continued to try and squint past the light created by the flashlight. "No one possesses the White Light, save for the Elders... but you..." The wolf murmured, as if tasting the words that came out of his mouth.

"Look... I don't want trouble--" Eddie began, wetting his lips nervously. He stooped to pick up his backpack, and sling it over his shoulder--he could come back and pack up the emergency blanket, he prayed. "All that I want is to know where I'm at, and then get back home."

The wolf nodded carefully, then looked up. "These dark clouds have been more common as of late." He remarked, as if Eddie was supposed to draw some sort of significance from that. "Come with me, if it would please you." He continued, turning away from Eddie to begin walking up the hill. "Our Chief may be able to provide some of the answers you seek, Elder."

Eddie watched, keeping the rifle centered on the wolfman as the thing's furry body disappeared into the darkness. He stood there for a long while, keeping the flashlight trained in that direction, turning his head from side to side occasionally, just to make sure that the wolf wasn't going to lunge at him from the shadows. He took a knee after a while, still looking up the hillside before retreating a step, trying to keep his back against the rock face he'd previously claimed as his camp.

Eddie dropped to a knee next to the emergency blanket, setting the phone screen-down to allow the LED flashlight on the back to provide as much of an area light as he could. He grabbed one corner of the blanket and began rolling it into as tight of a ball as he could manage--throwing his backpack off of his shoulder and stuffing the blanket unceremoniously into it. He tried to keep his head up, keeping an eye on his surroundings for as much as he could...

He forgot to look up.

The boy yelped as a streak of fur came down from the top of the rock--Eddie swung his arm up to try and point his rifle at his assailant. A single, thunderous crack of gunpowder echoed throughout the hills--and the creature yelped.

Eddie's eyes went wide as the wolf-thing from earlier landed, dug its hands--paws--_whatever--_into the dirt, and spun on a dime, its ears pinned against its skull, and it's golden eyes locked to Eddie's brown ones. It retreated, keeping on all fours, as if it was now feral, its hackles raised as it growled in Eddie's direction.

Eddie pointed the rifle at the wolf, and it retreated a few steps further, but didn't allow itself to turn and run. "What the hell are you?" Eddie demanded, taking a challenging step forward, lifting the rifle as if to make some sort of threat. He tried to sound bold, and act as such... but a howl in the distance sent a chill down his spine.

"You come to the land of our tribe, and presume to demand information from me?" The wolf growled throatily. "You bear the marks of an Elder, but you claim to not know. Are you lost, Elder?"

"Not Elder, Eddie."_Eddie corrected, taking a knee. He centered the ironsights of the rifle on the wolf's forehead, just to be certain. "I don't know where I'm at, and I don't know what the_fuck is going on."

"My invitation to our village stands, young Elder." The wolf said, retreating another step. "Please... Allow us the honor of hosting you. I will explain to the Chieftain your plight; perhaps we can be of assistance."

Other howls began to join the first--and they sounded like they were beginning to get closer. "If I refuse?"

"Then I shall leave, and you shall be left in peace, as the other Elders have decreed before you." The wolf said crisply, his ears perking as the howls began to escalate.

Eddie paused, his index finger beginning to trace the trigger well. The rifle moved ever-so-slightly--in case the wolf decided to do something stupid, the shot would go through his arm, rather than through his skull. "And what would I owe you?"

"You bear the marks of an Elder." The wolf said, bowing his head slowly. "It would be the tribe's honor to host you."

"What is an Elder?" Eddie asked, letting the rifle lower a bit more as he saw the tension in the wolf's limbs begin to slack.

"May we leave these woods before we answer your questions, Elder?" The wolf asked, his voice soft. His ears were perked now, and he was visibly sniffing at the air.

He didn't see other options for himself; and the way that the wolf was looking around now made him uneasy--as if the wolf thing was worried something was nearby. Eddie didn't want to know what could possibly scare a seven-foot-tall, four-hundred-pounds-of-muscle, sentient wolf. "Yeah." Eddie said, lowering the rifle now. "Lead the way."

The wolf nodded slowly, standing and stepping forward, closing the distance far too quickly for Eddie to feel comfortable. The wolf seemed to lean forward, as if sniffing at the stranger now--it would have been comical, almost something close to adorable in a brand-new-puppy sort of sense, if Eddie didn't get a full view of the scars that ran across the poor beast's muzzle, and shoulders.

"You honor us, Elder." The wolf said, turning his gaze to the forest below.

"I should be thanking you, I mean--"

Eddie was cut short, the wolf tilting his head back and howling. It was a long, low, mournful sound that joined the others. It was also loud, and caught Eddie by surprise.

He jumped a bit when the howl first started, then blinked as the wolf's gaze recentered on him. "It is our honor to provide you with food and shelter, Elder." the creature repeated, before standing properly and turning his gaze up the hill. "But we must hurry. The Nocturns are closing in."

Eddie nodded, stepping aside to allow the wolf to stride effortlessly up the hill. He stifled a yawn, glancing back down to the disturbed dirt that he had tried to sleep on, bending to pick up the phone, and turn off the light. Whatever a Nocturn was, Eddie didn't want to be responsible for flagging one down by using a flashlight.

_Won't be the first all-nighter you've ever pulled._Eddie thought to himself, starting up the hill after his concerningly-eager host. He adjusted the rifle on his shoulder, and straightened his backpack for as much as he could, before he began to follow the wolf through the darkness as best he could.

To Be Continued in Act II