The beam of a flashlight woke me in the dead of night. It was a harsh, cold white light sweeping across the nylon of our tent. We were in a restricted, off-the-grid campsite deep in the North Cascades. Nobody was supposed to be in the woods after dark, and that tactical, ice-white beam wasn’t something you’d buy at REI for a casual camping trip. A cold sweat broke out across my back. I rolled over and clamped my hand over my best friend’s mouth. “Don’t make a sound,” I breathed into her ear. “Grab your phone, your ID, and your water. We have to hide. Now.” “Harper, aren’t you being a little paranoid?” she whispered, trembling. “It’s probably just a park ranger.” “Move! If we stay here, we’re dead.” I scrambled out to wake the others, to wake our class president, but no one believed me. Sloane, the girl who ruled our high school hallways, just let out a dry, condescending laugh. “God, Harper, do you always have to be so dramatic? It’s a flashlight.” Her voice carried, and a few guys from the neighboring tent actually got excited. They grabbed their own heavy-duty flashlights, pointing them toward the tree line. “Probably some hikers from the other site,” one of them said. “Come on, let’s go check it out.” I couldn’t stop them. The only thing I could do was drag my best friend away, vanishing into a collapsed, abandoned root-cave I’d noticed during our afternoon hike. When the Sheriff’s deputies pulled us out of the dirt the next morning, the entire campsite was wrapped in yellow crime scene tape. 1 I was jolted awake by the light. It swept over the thin fabric of the tent and vanished instantly. I held my breath. Two seconds passed. Then it was back. One. Two. Three. Short, sharp flashes. The beam was angled low to the ground, deliberate and controlled. It wasn’t someone looking for a lost trail. It was a signal. Adrenaline spiked through my veins, washing away any trace of sleep. We were miles deep into the wilderness, just a stone’s throw from the Canadian border. It was a rugged, heavily monitored stretch of land. Nobody flashed a tactical light like that for fun. Before we set out, our outfitter, an old local named Mac, had looked us dead in the eye. “After nine p.m., nobody leaves the perimeter. If you hear whistles, see lights, or hear shouting in the timber, you ignore it.” Sloane had rolled her eyes. “Okay, Mac. We’re in Washington State, not a horror movie.” Mac hadn’t smiled. “The border doesn’t care what year it is, sweetheart. Bad things happen out here.” But we were eighteen. We’d just graduated high school. We’d spent the last four years suffocating under exams and college applications. Who actually believes danger is real when you’re young and invincible? My throat tightened. I clamped my hand over Sophie’s mouth. She woke up with a start, her eyes wide, a muffled protest dying against my palm. I shook my head, hard. The annoyance in her eyes instantly morphed into terror. I leaned in, my lips brushing her ear. “Do not speak. Turn your phone brightness all the way down. Grab your ID, your portable charger, and water. Everything.” Sophie nodded, her hands shaking so badly she almost dropped her phone. The second the screen lit up, I smothered the glow with my fleece jacket. “What’s happening?” she mouthed. I stared at the tent wall. “Someone is in the woods. Signaling.” “Is it Border Patrol? A ranger?” “Cops don’t signal across the tree line like that. And they don’t use three tactical micro-flashes.” I unzipped the tent just an inch. The string of fairy lights the girls had hung up earlier was off. Only a couple of amber camp lanterns were still burning, casting a weak, buttery glow over the site. Another flash from the direction of the river. This time, I wasn’t the only one who saw it. From the guys’ tent to our left, a voice mumbled, “Who the hell is flashing their brights out there?” My stomach bottomed out. Someone was awake. Awake meant curious, and out here, curiosity was a death sentence. I slung my backpack over my shoulder, grabbed Sophie’s wrist, and pulled her out into the cold night air. I needed to find Noah. He was the class president, the one everyone listened to. If I could convince him, he could get the rest of the group moving. I stayed low, practically crouching as I hurried to his tent. I tapped the canvas twice. “Noah. Wake up.” Rustling. He unzipped the flap, rubbing his eyes. “Harper? What’s going on?” “You need to wake everyone up right now,” I kept my voice to a harsh whisper. “We need to move to the root-cave we saw this afternoon.” He stared at me, his brain still catching up. “What?” “There are irregular lights coming from the river. Someone crossed the line.” Noah’s face paled, but the skepticism was still there. Just as he opened his mouth, three more flashes cut through the distant darkness. He saw them. But his first instinct was the rationalization of a kid who had never seen real violence. “Maybe it’s that college group we saw at the trailhead?” I wanted to scream. “Nobody hikes this close to the border river at 2 a.m. unguided.” Noah hesitated. Behind us, a tent flap zipped open violently. Sloane stepped out, wrapping a cashmere cardigan around herself, radiating annoyance. “What are you guys doing? It’s freezing.” I turned to her. “Keep your voice down. Turn off your lantern. We have to evacuate the site.” Sloane stared at me for two seconds before letting out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Oh my god, Harper, are you doing this again?” 2 Sloane’s voice wasn’t a scream, but in the dead silence of the forest, it might as well have been a siren. I put my hands up, motioning frantically for her to lower her volume. “I’m serious. Stop yelling.” Her expression hardened. “Don’t tell me what to do.” I zeroed in on the portable LED ring light she was holding. “I don’t have time to argue with you, Sloane. You have no idea how dangerous this is. Turn that light off.” She deliberately looked over her shoulder at the woods, then back at me. “And if I don’t?” Noah stood up, running a hand through his hair, playing the peacekeeper. “Sloane, maybe just turn it off for a second.” She rounded on him. “Noah, are you seriously indulging her? Because a flashlight blinked in the woods?” The noise woke up the guys. Tyler poked his head out of his sleeping bag. “What light?” Jackson unzipped his door, fully awake now. “Is someone out there? I saw it too. Night hike?” The situation was unraveling, slipping right through my fingers. The panic in my chest felt like crushed glass. I lowered my voice, infusing it with every ounce of urgency I had. “Listen to me. Grab your phones and your IDs. Follow me to the cave. Now.” Tyler laughed. Actually laughed. “Harper, you watch way too much true crime. We’re in a managed perimeter. If there was a real issue, the park rangers would have sounded an alarm.” “We aren’t in the suburbs, Tyler,” I pleaded. “Out here, danger doesn’t send you a push notification.” Sloane crossed her arms, her tone dripping with venom. “Here we go again. Just because your dad was a cop, Harper, doesn’t mean you have to treat everyone in the woods like a cartel smuggler.” The air went dead. Sophie’s face flushed with sudden anger. “Sloane, shut up. You cross a line.” Sloane knew she’d gone too far. A flicker of regret crossed her eyes, but her pride wouldn’t let her back down. She looked away. “I’m just stating facts. We hiked for six hours today. We’re exhausted. And she wants the whole senior class to pack up in the dark because of a shadow.” She paused, looking at the others. “If this turns out to be nothing, she ruins the whole trip.” Nothing. The word sent a chill straight down to my marrow. I wanted it to be nothing. I would give anything to be the paranoid freak they laughed about at breakfast tomorrow. I would gladly take their mockery if it meant we were safe. But what if I wasn’t wrong? I looked at Noah. “Can you get Mr. Harrison on the phone?” Noah pulled out his phone and dialed our teacher, who had set up camp closer to the main trailhead, about half a mile down the mountain. Nothing. The call wouldn’t connect. Cell service up here was practically nonexistent, just dead air. He tried twice more. Still nothing. “Stop trying,” I told him. “We have to move.” Noah frowned, caught in the unbearable paralysis of a teenager trying to be a leader. He liked things orderly. He liked consensus. But out here, consensus takes time. And time gets you killed. Suddenly, a sound echoed from the deep timber. Snap. Like a heavy boot coming down on a dry pine branch. Everyone froze. But instead of fear, a reckless, testosterone-fueled excitement lit up Jackson’s face. “Dude, there is someone out there. I’m going to check.” He reached into his tent and pulled out a massive, thousand-lumen tactical flashlight. I lunged forward, grabbing his wrist with both hands. “Do not turn that on!” Jackson wrenched his arm away, glaring at me. “What is your problem, psycho?” His thumb hit the button. A blinding, searing column of white light blasted into the trees, illuminating the dense pines stretching toward the border. My heart completely stopped. In the split second the light cut through the dark, something shifted in the distance. A shadow dropping low to the ground. It was too late. There was no evacuating the whole group in silence anymore. We were exposed. To make it worse, Sloane lifted her ring light, holding her phone up as the harsh glow illuminated her face and the campsite behind her. “Honestly, the Blair Witch vibes are giving right now.” She hit record. “Night one of the senior trip, and Harper Hayes is officially convinced we’re about to be murdered by forest people…” I lunged, slapped the light out of her hand, and hit the power switch. Sloane shrieked. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” That shriek was the sound of a nail being driven into a coffin. 3 Now Noah was panicking. “Hey, keep it down!” I grabbed his wrist, my nails digging into his skin. “Noah. Listen to me just this once. We leave. Right now.” His eyes were tortured. “But Mr. Harrison is down the hill… half the girls are still asleep…” “Then wake them up.” “But if it’s just some local guys, everyone’s going to be furious with me.” I stared right into him. “Being furious is better than being dead.” The color drained from his face. Sloane snatched her light off the ground, her voice a lethal hiss. “Stop trying to scare everybody. If you want to go hide in the dirt, go. Don’t drag the rest of us into your psychotic episode.” A few of the guys chimed in. “Yeah, it’s probably just some kids from U-Dub having a bonfire. Let’s just go say what’s up.” Tyler was already pulling his jacket on. I stepped into his path. “Do not walk into those trees.” He rolled his eyes, his patience gone. “Move, Harper.” When I didn’t, he just shoved his shoulder past me. Two other guys fell in line behind him, laughing nervously. Noah opened his mouth to call them back, but the words died in his throat. I looked at Noah one last time. “Are you coming with me?” His lips parted, but he didn’t say a word. That was my answer. I spun around and grabbed Sophie’s backpack strap. “We’re going.” Tears were spilling over Sophie’s eyelashes. “Just us? Harper, what about everybody else?” My throat felt like it was lined with sandpaper. “We have to go.” As we backed away into the shadows, Sloane’s voice drifted over. “If you leave now, Harper, don’t expect anyone to talk to you tomorrow.” I didn’t look back. I knew that if I hesitated for one more second, neither of us was getting out of this clearing alive. The hike to the root-cave was a nightmare. During the day, taking selfies, the trail had seemed rustic and charming. In the pitch black, without a flashlight, every step was a gamble. Sophie slipped twice on the damp pine needles. She gasped in pain, and I immediately clapped my hand over her mouth. “Hold it in,” I whispered fiercely. She nodded, her tears catching the faint starlight. From the campsite, the sound of the boys’ voices drifted up through the trees. “Hey! Anyone out there?” Tyler yelled. I stopped in my tracks. A visceral urge to sprint back and cover his mouth tore through me, but I anchored my boots to the soil. I couldn’t. Sophie was gripping the hem of my jacket, shivering uncontrollably. The hollow we’d found was only a few minutes away on a cleared path, but we couldn’t take the path. We had to navigate a steep scree slope to avoid the open meadows. I kept checking my phone. No service. SOS only. I typed out a message to 911 anyway, hitting send, watching it fail, and hitting send again. “Harper,” Sophie whispered, her voice cracking. “What if we’re wrong? What if it’s a mistake?” I didn’t answer right away. We reached the opening. Thick cascades of ivy and dead blackberry bushes hung over a hollow beneath a massive uprooted Douglas fir. Half the entrance was blocked by fallen rocks. You wouldn’t see it unless you knew to look. I shoved Sophie inside, tossed our bags in, and pulled the vines back into place. It smelled deeply of wet earth and rot. Sophie immediately covered her nose. “We can’t stay in here.” “It’ll keep us breathing,” I said. I felt around in the dark, finding a few loose rocks to carefully stack against the vines from the inside. The hollow went back about forty feet, ending in a sharp crook where the roots tangled together. We crawled all the way to the back and huddled in the darkest corner. Sophie broke down, the tears falling silently. “I’m so scared.” I pulled her into my chest. “Me too. But we’re going to be okay.” “If they’re fine,” she sobbed softly, “they’re going to make our lives hell tomorrow.” I leaned my head against the cold dirt wall, straining my ears toward the outside world. “If I’m wrong, they can laugh at me until graduation.” I swallowed hard. “But if I’m right, the laughing won’t matter.” The moment the words left my mouth, a boy’s voice echoed from outside. “Yo! Over here!” Then, the frantic, chaotic sound of running footsteps. I instantly shut off my phone screen and pressed Sophie flat against the earth. Men were speaking. The voices were close now. Low, rough, laced with a heavy, unplaceable accent. I couldn’t make out the sentences, just fragments carried on the wind. …light… kids… move fast… leave no witnesses… Sophie’s eyes went wide as saucers in the dark. She slapped both of her hands over her own mouth. Then, from the direction of the camp, Sloane’s voice cut through the night, shrill and terrified. “Who are you?! Stay away from us!” 4 And then all hell broke loose. The sickening sound of metal poles snapping, tents collapsing, tables overturning. Screams that tore through the canopy. The frantic, desperate thud of bodies running through the brush. Someone sobbed, a high, reedy pitch. “We didn’t see anything! Please don’t—” “Mr. Harrison! Where is he?!” My entire body went rigid. I dug my fingernails into my palms until the skin broke. Sophie tried to push herself up. I threw my entire weight over her, pinning her to the dirt. She was weeping hysterically, mouthing the words, We have to help them, Harper, we have to call the police… I shook my head violently. We step outside, we die. But they’re— If we go out there, we just add two more bodies to the count. The thought made me want to throw up. The chaos outside was escalating. Footsteps sprinted wildly in our direction, followed by heavier, faster boots. A sickening thud, a wet crunch, and then… nothing. I covered Sophie’s ears. But I couldn’t cover my own. I heard Noah shouting for everyone to get down. I heard Mr. Harrison’s voice, out of breath, running up from the lower trail. “What is going on here?! I’m a teacher, let’s just calm down and talk—” His words were cut off by a sharp, guttural scream. Sophie was shaking against me like a leaf in a hurricane. I bit down on the inside of my cheek, tasting copper, refusing to let a single sob escape my throat. An eternity passed. Then, the campsite went deathly quiet. I thought it was over. I let out a fraction of a breath. But then, a beam of light swept past the entrance of our cave. Cold white. Tactical. It crawled over the moss and the ferns, inch by inch, methodical and ruthless. Two sets of heavy boots stopped right outside our hollow. One of them cursed. “Count’s off.” “Didn’t two girls run earlier?” the other replied. My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought it would crack my sternum. They knew. The beam of the flashlight hit the ivy covering our entrance, turning the leaves a translucent, sickly green. A gloved hand reached out and pushed the vines aside. Sophie let out a tiny, involuntary gasp. Without thinking, I shoved the sleeve of my fleece jacket straight into her mouth to muffle the sound. My right hand scrambled blindly in the dirt until my fingers wrapped around a heavy, rusted iron spike—something left behind by loggers decades ago. “There’s a hole here,” the man muttered. My grip on the iron tightened. If he crawled in, I was going to drive it straight into his eye. The hand hovered there for what felt like hours. Long enough that I was certain he could hear the blood rushing in my ears. “Forget it,” the second man snapped. “We’re wasting time. There are sirens down the mountain. Somebody got a call out.” The first man swept his flashlight into the cave one last time. Sophie and I were pressed so deep into the curve of the wall that the beam didn’t hit us. It only illuminated the damp roots hanging from the ceiling. He clicked his tongue in irritation. “Can’t see shit in there.” “Let’s move to the extraction point before they lock down the highway.” The vines rustled as he let them go. The heavy footsteps retreated. I didn’t move a muscle. Sophie kept biting down on my jacket sleeve, her tears soaking right through to my skin. I waited. I waited until I was absolutely sure they weren’t trying to fake us out. Only then did I slowly pull the sleeve from her mouth. She took a ragged, silent breath. “Why… why are they killing everyone?” I closed my eyes. I didn’t know. Or rather, I was too terrified to voice the truth. Men who moved through the border woods at night without headlights, using tactical flashes instead of radios… they weren’t lost hikers. Just then, more footsteps echoed through the trees. They had returned to the camp.
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