MOUNTAIN PASS

A short story by Dan Jire

The forest smelled damp even though it hadn’t rained in a couple of weeks. The pine needles were soft and the black dirt beneath swallowed them with each step. Harrison Mitchell was getting tired, but even after all the sweating he couldn’t stop to sit down and risk getting his pants wet and dirty.

He argued with himself as he pressed on up the mountain trail.

Trevor Owens kept up, watching the orange pine needles blur together as he stared at his feet. Something felt wrong. The description of the hike had made it sound fast and easy. But the slight incline seemed to be hitting Trevor all wrong.

“Want to stop for lunch soon?” Harrison asked.

“Whenever you’re ready.” Trevor meant, ‘now,’ but you can’t say that when you’re supposed to be a tough guy.

Who were they kidding? They hiked one weekend of every month on worn trails, complete with a GPS to navigate the mountain roads. They had more than enough water, granola bars, and safety supplies to probably hike the entire Appalachian Trail and they were just going for a day. But something had hit Trevor like he was hung over. This shouldn’t have bothered him, but his vision dizzied and his feet felt like cinderblocks. The flickering daylight through the trees felt like someone shining a flashlight in his eyes—just to be annoying.

Harrison spotted some dry boulders ahead as the incline increased.

“Let’s stop up there.”

Trevor agreed.

“How far do you think we’ve gone?” he said, unpacking an apple and a turkey sandwich.

Harrison looked at his watch, his mouth already full of his sandwich. He wiped the excess mustard from his lips.

“We usually do close to twenty-minute miles up hill, so I’m saying we’re about six or seven miles in.”

“I thought this was only an eleven-mile hike.”

“It is. We must be really close to the summit.”

Something in the woods moved. Harrison perked up. His eyes shot into the woods to see if it moved again. Trevor couldn’t help but notice and took to scanning the woods to see what had worried Harrison.

“Squirrel.” Trevor suggested and then went back to his sandwich before he added, “Don’t say bear.”

“Look at that.” Harrison pointed out a carving on a nearby tree.

“Pre-spray paint. This trail is ancient. Isn’t it funny? Nothing we do will ever be new to the world. It’s all been done. Someone has been everywhere we will ever go.”

“There’s more to it.” Harrison’s knees popped as he got up to investigate the carvings.

He traced the carvings of a stick figure and a sun to the right of it, as if the man was walking into it.

“Me thinks,” Harrison started in a deep broken English voice with a German accent, “it means stay in sunlight.”

Trevor looked around. It looked like daytime everywhere to him. The thin pine trees did nothing to block out the sunlight above them.

“I guess that’s saying we should dilly dally.” Trevor said.

Harrison finished his sandwich and they started back up the trail.

The smell hit them first. It wasn’t so much unpleasant as it was a strong odor. It had none of the characteristics of flowers or mint or bacon. Rather is was caught somewhere between being musty and aromatic.

They reached an area with three large boulders, at least twenty feet high.

“Stay in the light.” Harrison joked as they jumped off the trail to explore.

“Check this out!” Trevor said, pointing straight ahead at an inscription on the rock.

“He only claims one,” Harrison read aloud.

“Creepy. I bet two guys like us got bored and did that before they turned back and went home.”

“Probably.”

A breeze kicked between the boulders and the smell hit them as strong as ever.

“Ever smell a bear before?” Trevor asked.

“What do you think that means, ‘he only claims one’?”

Trevor shrugged and went between the boulders, imagining a tunnel filled with some thief’s loot.

“It’s pitch black,” he said wiggling deeper.

“Wait.” Harrison said and swung his pack around to pull out a headlamp.

“Nice.”

The light illuminated the crevice. Trevor ran his hand along the boulder as it twisted around and seemed to go into itself, like a conch shell.

“You have to check this out.”

“Why don’t they put this on the trail?”

“It’s probably not government property.”

“I didn’t see any barrier markers.”

The swirl went only a few feet more into the boulder.

“It dead ends here, turn around.” Trevor said, having to walk backwards out of the tight space.

The warm breath hit the back of Harrison’s neck. He stopped dead in his tracks. Trevor stepped on his foot and then bumped up against the boulder.

“What?”

The breath hit Harrison’s neck again.

Trevor felt it too. He twisted around to see Harrison frozen in place, eyes wide and holding his breath.

He couldn’t see what was behind him. The breath came again. It smelled a lot like the strange odor, but fresher.

“Go away bear,” Harrison whimpered. He began to cry.

Panic took hold.

Trevor stepped forward again as far as he could and then started to wrench himself around to face the exit. The boulder scraped him as he twisted.

Harrison hit the ground in front of him face first and was suddenly yanked away.

Trevor screamed.

There was no bravery, only the instinct to dive after Harrison. He pushed his way out of the boulder as Harrison clawed at the ground. Then suddenly Harrison stopped moving. Pain filled his face. He begged for his life.

The creature that held Harrison’s leg stared back at Trevor.

“Let him go!”

The creature was so dark there was no telling if it had ears to hear Trevor’s commands. Its face so dark there was no telling if there were eyes behind the large snout and yellow gums and brown teeth.

It was not a bear.

The blackness was not fur, but a firm flesh. Its arms were longer than its body and legs. From its clawed hand came four long fingers, as long as its legs and longer than Harrison’s. It looked as if four black snakes had wrapped themselves around Harrison’s leg.

“Get!” Trevor frantically screamed and waved his arms.

The creature lunged at him. Trevor almost tripped as he flinched.

The creature lunged again. This time it dropped Harrison’s leg.

Harrison hobbled up to a sprint. The creature jumped back at him like a snapping turtle reaching for its prey.

Trevor had time to get past the creature. He brushed up against it and it quickly grasped at him. Trevor’s pack suddenly tightened around his shoulders and then his butt hit the ground hard.

A rock whizzed by his head.

Harrison had not left him. He was throwing anything he could find, even useless twigs that barely had enough weight to make the distance.

It was enough. The creature released Trevor and retaliated against Harrison.

They both ran.

Every step was another chance of a twisted ankle, another dodged tree. The incline felt steeper running down it. The pine needles began to slide under their feet. They would drop down and slip through the dirt for a few feet before being able to stand and run again.

The creature pursued.

Suddenly it wailed.

The sound pierced their ears. They could feel their eardrums split. It felt like blood began to drain from them. They stumbled into each other and collapsed on the ground. It was deafening for a moment as if the volume kept increasing until they were blinded by it.

Then it was silent.

They could hear each other’s breathing and then their own heart beats.

Trevor gasped for air as he clutched onto a tree. When he first spoke, it sounded as if it came from somewhere else.

“Jesus,” he cursed.

Harrison stretched as the pain shot up from his toes to his neck. “He only claims one. I get it. He’s going to kill one of us.”

Trevor’s pain verbalized in another curse.

“We just have to keep moving. Maybe its territorial? All we’ve got to do is get back to the road. We can make it.”

“Six miles at least.” Then Harrison said, “You felt it though, didn’t you? It was like I could understand it. When it had my leg, it kept saying it was claiming me.”

Trevor had felt the same thing.

“Come on. Can’t stop.”

“One of us. He’s only going to kill one of us. He needs us to become more human. The more he takes he’s becoming more like us.”

Trevor had felt it too, had felt the creature trying to absorb him, in his mind was the stark image of the creature as a serpent claiming its first human being and beginning to sprout an arm. It had eaten other things. But it had wanted to become a human being for some purpose that blurred within their minds, like in a dream when you can’t turn and see the rest of a room.

They could hear the cries of the man who scratched the words onto the boulder: he only claims one. They could feel his memories, as if they were their own. He had lost someone. The creature had chosen the man’s companion. His pain echoed in their minds.

The images fled their minds as they ran. Only the terror of their memory remained as they tried to dodge roots, rocks, and fallen trees.

Stay on the trails the signs had said.

Stay in the light the symbols had urged.

He only claims one.

The feeling of ‘everyman for himself’ crept into both their minds. But they also wondered if they really could leave the other, if they could live with themselves afterwards. No, they both knew they had to try and make it out of there together.

They didn’t get far.

Was it just playing with them?

Had its wail stunned them long enough for it to get in front of them?

In one attack, the creature knocked Trevor and Harrison to the ground. It leapt from Harrison onto Trevor and ran its snout across his body, searching for something. While with its other hand, it dragged Harrison closer.

It shook its head and then climbed off Trevor and began to sniff Harrison.

Trevor was too scared to run. He kept telling himself, ‘he only claims one.’

It gave a snort and cleared its throat as it tossed Harrison to the side. There was something in the air.

It smelled a scent of something it yearned for. Trevor and Harrison could still feel the connection with its mind.

“You may pass.” It told them and disappeared back into the woods. They knew it wanted someone else. It had smelled its chosen prey.

They ran. They’d have time to thank their B.O. later or whatever had left the creature wanting. They barely lasted any distance at all. As soon as they reached the trail again, they both stopped—out of breath. the soles of their shoes on fire. They could almost make out the road through the trees.

There was no more strength in their legs. They couldn’t find the energy. They were so close and yet both of them would rather have been taken. Just so they wouldn’t have to go the rest of the way.

They’d feel differently tomorrow.

They’d be grateful they were spared.

They passed a couple hiking and there was the awkward exchange of greetings. Made worse by what they imagined happened next.

The creature would claim her. They knew it. Somehow, they knew it. But they were too scared to turn around. To scared to warn them or offer the creature another reason to chose them instead.

Stay in the sunlight.

He only claims one.

THE END.