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The sun was just beginning to bleed over the endless line of trees when Calder arrived at the clearing. As he entered, he was greeted by a chilly gust of wind that brushed against his brown leather jacket and through his blond hair. Letting out a gentle sigh of relief, he dropped his things and took in the place. It was small and sheltered, surrounded on all sides by vast and leafless woods. This was where he would be camping on this November night.
Soon, a modest fire lit up the shadowy evening, throwing pale red light about as the inevitable dusk crept nearer. To the quiet tune of the forest, Calder had pitched his tent, and after the long hike, now sat relaxed.
The temperature sank like an anchor as the young night settled in and wrapped its hands around the forest. Despite the wintry conditions, Calder was not uncomfortable. There was something peaceful about being the only one in the calm dusk, with the only sounds that escaped into the air his own breathing and the occasional crackle of the waning fire.
A feeling of drowsiness began to cloak Calder, and weights formed on his eyelids. Unable to keep them open any longer, he slowly began to fade away. The near silent buzz of the forest and the soft sound of the fire scorching the air washed into a collage of sound as sleep blanketed him.
Calder woke abruptly with a bitter taste in his mouth. It was now thick dark, and the fire was a mound of blackened ashes from which no light or heat escaped. Even the stars and the moon were blocked out by a veil of clouds that prevented the smallest hopes of luminance from passing through. Letting his body slack, he exhaled and shifted uncomfortably. He was awake now, no longer stalked by drowsiness or in the peaceful certainty of sleep. The darkness was flawless. His eyes dilated futilely to try to penetrate it, but it was cruel and unrelenting. He stretched out, letting his mind drift and his thoughts meander. He realized he had no idea what time it was, or what had brought him out here tonight, surrounded by the simple calm of the woods. It was dark and cold, and he was alone. What was he doing here? His thoughts continued to wander, and they reached his love back home. He felt his eyes glaze over, and on the black screen in front of him he saw her face, bright and shining, lighting the dark. Images of her looking at him danced off his eyes and he remembered stroking her hair as she leaned into his chest, her head rising and falling with each exhale.
As the eidetic images wrapped in front of him, the conversation they’d shared before he left resounded in his ears. He heard the hints of doubt and confusion in her voice when she asked why he was going out camping by himself during the middle of November. He heard himself try to explain, but the reasons couldn’t have been true. He remembered trying to reassure her that nothing bad was going to happen to him, he had camped in the woods before. But he could not ignore the expression that came over her face as she tried to be supportive, but could not understand him. Fluidly, with all of this on playback, the last words she said to him echoed in his mind like endless ripples across a lake. I’ll miss you.
Miss you. Miss you. Miss you. The words reverberated through the night, and then shattered the illusory pictures in front of him, leaving just the blackness. Calder stared blankly at the ghosts of the images and realized that sleep was once again encroaching upon him. Still hearing the remnants of the conversation, he groped about blindly for the tent, found the zipper, and pushed inside. The vision of her face was pasted to the inside of his eyelids as he swiftly fell away.
Calder opened his eyes to rich light filling the tent as the sun peeked over the line of trees. Cold, fresh November air surrounded him as he lifted himself up and into the day. What had been so consuming and complete the night before now seemed so small and powerless. His gaze passed through the trees around him, and he felt fulfilled. He would get an early start back home, as the morning was young, and she would be waiting for him. He packed up camp quickly, threw the backpack over his shoulders, and in an undramatic goodbye, set off on the trail.
Morning was still entering as Calder hiked. The trip would only take a couple of hours. He moved efficiently, and his rests were brief. The forest chattered around him silently as he plowed through it.
Out of the clear, perfect November sky a sudden noise sounded, puncturing the silence and exploding over the calm; a thundering, rumbling boom-pop that shook the ground. Another sounded, and Calder screamed. Pain shot through his gut and sprawled through his body, and he bent over, gasping for air. Fire burned in his stomach. His mouth was suspended open, but no sound came out. He wrapped his arms around his waist, and his hands and shirt became sticky and red, stained by hot spilling blood. His vision blurred, and he caught a glimpse of something bright, unnatural orange. On it, he made out the word POSTED. He heard shouting voices as his body was ablaze in agony. I think we got one! said a voice followed by running footsteps. No man, shit! It’s a young man! We shot a young man! Calder fell over clutching his gut as the voices grew nearer and more distant at the same time. The world was blurry, so blurry. . .
Suddenly, he was back.
Back in the clearing. Amidst the November night. Surrounded by cold, thick darkness.