The last sign had said next shelter 12 miles. That was this morning. The boy wasn’t sure how far he’d gone since then.
He unslung his pack, sat down, and took a sip of water. The forest was featureless - all the trees uniform - save for the line of painted white rectangles, trailing off like ellipses.
He’d been following these blazes since Katahdin, days ago. Now they were getting brighter as he walked, but the path was getting wilder, overgrown. The nearest town wasn’t for 50 miles. The boy continued on.
Soon it was dusk and he hadn’t reached a shelter yet. He was out of water, and could hear a periodic thudding, getting louder. The woods were silent otherwise.
The path opened onto a clearing. A dark man was chopping wood. He looked up at the boy and smiled, axe dangling from his white-streaked hands. “I’ve been expecting you,” he said.
Posts
Have you thought about working for the tourism board?
ReplyDeleteI already am.
ReplyDeletemaine is creepy
ReplyDeleteI was thinking horror when I wrote it, but my friend Chris pointed out it can be read as gay porn as well. Maybe both, a la Otto?
ReplyDeleteI was thinking it was horror too. What with axeman there being responsible for those fresh white markers and all. Erm.
ReplyDelete