Survival

The mountains are greeted with the sounds of engines humming across the rustic terrain, breaking the silence of the natural habitat for those who dwelt among the trees. Two vehicles, a shit brown suburban and a puke green pickup, lurched to a stop in a grove that presented a panoramic view of the lush ranges that played background to a silver streamed lake.

A man with spiked blonde hair, sunglasses, and a muscle shirt hops out. “Okay, ladies. This is the spot we pitch for camp.” The four others, two men and two women, follow his lead.

An eagle in flight caws above them, its voice rolling across the rocky expanse. An auburn-haired woman blocked away the sun with her arm, as she watched the eagle disappear in the horizon

“Hey, Tyrone, toss me that tent.”

Tyrone hopped on back, reached for the tent, “Yes, Mr. Calloway.”

He flipped up his reflective sunglasses to reveal baby blue eyes. “Call me Zeke.”

“Well, Zeke,” Tyrone reached for a red tent, tossed it to him. “I think you know where you can stick it.”

Zeke caught it, brimming the smile of a weasel, “Ooh, Cold, Tyrone. Let's not forget just because we're off the clock, I'm still your boss.”

Tyrone raised his brows unresponsive, scratching his thick beard, and mumbled incoherence.

“So, how did you find this place?” Jeremy asked, taking out a rucksack from the bed of the truck. “I mean it isn't necessarily a stone's throw from civilization.”

Zeke replied, “Long story. The brief synopsis is that I accidentally happened upon this place hunting.”

“Hunting?” Tyrone interjected.

“Yeah,” Zeke added, “I am sort of a professional hunter. Won trophies to boot. You wouldn't believe how much game passes through here.” He took out the scope of the land, breathing in the crisp scent of fresh pine resin. “Paradise.”

Jeremy muttered, “More like Paradise Lost.” Tyrone chuckled.

“Megan... Sue...” Zeke called out, “I need you two to fetch some wood while we set up camp, anything but pine. Burns too fast and doesn't hold a flame. Also, smells like shit but that's bottom rung of the list as to why you shouldn't use pine.”

The girls obliged as the three men pitched up tents and set out chairs.

Hours in through the night, a single body of fire danced on the bluff by which all matters of life could see, for miles on end.

They were roasting marshmallows, shooting the breeze, when Sue took the opportunity to push, “So, what's the deal, Zeke. Why bring us out here?”

“Since you guys have been twisting my arm all day into the night, I'll tell you. It's tradition.”

Tyrone grunted, “What the hell kind of tradition is this?”

Zeke went to explain, “Something distinct about my company is that we have a policy that dictates when an opening comes up for advancement test all applicants to see if they make qualified representatives. You know Wally Watkins, chief executive of the company, how his position opened?” All eyes turned between each other, then returned to Zeke. “Of course you do, otherwise you wouldn't be here. Well, he had a position open up on the West Coast that was too tempting to refuse. So, now that his position is open, one of you lucky candidates will earn his spot.”

Megan mulled, “Wally Watkins... He wasn't with us long.”

“No,” Zeke returned. “No, he wasn't. Only eight months.”

Tyrone continued, “A chief executive, eight months and gone? How's that?”

Zeke clicked his tongue behind his teeth. “Our incentive is to take in people, get them set as well as they can for their profession, and push them out the door. But be assured, one of you will get advancement. The question is, which one? Only time will tell.” Zeke shifted his sight to each one of their faces, upon which the campfire administered a lambent impression. “Anyone up for a campfire tale?”

Tyrone looked at the others, who nodded their approval. “Why the hell not?” He chuckled, “I ain't done this since I been in Boy Scouts.”

Zeke began, “Twenty years ago, there was said to be a prowler roaming through these woods, hungry for blood. But not just any blood. Human blood. He was a creature, a demon, who took on the form of man. The only way one could tell is if they become its main course, but then it'd be too late. Yep, some say he still lurks around here, with a unquenchable hunger for flesh. That's what they say...” Zeke saw the glazed eyes, and the contrasting unimpressed facial expressions. With a shrug, he said, “I make a lousy storyteller, that's why I never banked on becoming a professional writer. But it's an urban legend, nonetheless. Heard it from a local a few years back. Always found it fun to share it with others. Shame when there's a tough crowd.”

With that, Zeke stood up, went to his tent. The others followed suit.

Morning came, and everyone was shocked awake by the blood-curdling scream of Sue. Everyone raced outside to see her, frozen stiff before a ransacked tent, her fingers fanned by paralysis. Tyrone ran up to her, and saw Zeke, dead, soaked in blood.

He went to rub Sue's arm, to comfort her, when she wretched uncontrollably, “Who killed him!?!? Who killed him!?!?” She swung around to reveal thick beads of mascara running down her haggard face. “Was it one of you?”

Jeremy asked, “One of us?”

Tyrone raised both hands, “Whoa, there, how we know it ain't you smoked his ass?”

Sue asked, “Me? I'd never...” She flinched, scoping the parameter, “You don't think... what Zeke said... was true?”

Megan approached her, “That was a story. Fiction.”

“But what if it wasn't?” Sue shivered, whipped out a knife, jabbed it in Tyrone's neck. A spray of blood gushed out from an artery. He clamped it tight to no avail, and dropped.

“What the fuck!” Jeremy said.

Sue scorned, “You!!!” Pointed the blade at Jeremy, and bee-lined toward him.

He snatched Megan by the arm, tugging her along as they scampered toward the vehicles. “Quick! Let's get the hell out of--” He stopped in his tracks. The lot was empty. “Where did they go?”

The wails of Sue closed in on them from the distance. Dizzied, Megan was yanked once again before she could think.

Jeremy clambered down a slope that spilled down a gradient, Megan shouted, “Where are you taking us?”

Jeremy yelled, “Away!”

They came to a fork in the road and stopped. Panting, Jeremy said, “We gotta lose her. You take the left path, I take the right, we go five-hundred yards and cut across to meet each other. Maybe it will shake her off us.”

They did as planned. Megan raced down the left path. Sue tailed her. No matter how much she fought against limb and trunk, she couldn't shake her. The whole time, she cussed herself for ever getting herself in this situation.

Then it happened. A loud crack of splinting wood followed a snap, and a shriek. Megan turned around to see Sue impaled with spikes. “A trap?” Megan wondered by whom. Jeremy! It had to be! He wanted her to believe that Sue was the one who murdered Zeke.

Frantic, she raced aimlessly through the woods, keeping a check to see if Jeremy was following her.

It wasn't long before she came to an odd statue. A skeleton, clothed in black robe, holding down a sword. A plaque bore an inscription. 'To the Calloway Family. Beneath the Earth, Where They Belong.'

The earth beneath Megan sunk from her weight.

She crashed into darkness, and fell into the gloom of a subterranean cavern.

Torchlight revealed a shrine. Statues by the dozens encircled the room, each bearing a different sculpture of a person who seemed almost lifelike by design. Among them, she noticed one that resembled Wally Watkins.

A slimy shuffling sound caught her attention.

A shirtless individual hunched over a corpse, ripping flesh off a ripped-off arm by his own teeth. The body belonged to Jeremy, and the person hunkered over him was Zeke.

Zeke turned to face Megan, eyes glowing like the fires of hell. He wore a maniacal grin that shown forth a set of sharp teeth. He dropped the arm that bounced on the ground. “So, you survived. I knew you would.”

In tears, Megan covered her face, “What is this?”

“What else, but your promotion.” Zeke approached, his arms outstretched, and his legs grown elongated. “You are my trophy kill.” He sprouted eagle wings.

In one fell swoop, Zeke glided toward her, knocking her back with his talons. She fell into a vat of plaster, screaming for nobody but the demon to hear. With little effort on Zeke's part, Megan became yet another trophy among the lot that Zeke claimed as his victory.