Miles 7
Water: 1
He was hiking again. The first few feet off the road and into the woods felt awkward. He had been at home doing this just a week ago, but a torn muscle had sent him off the trail for a week. A week is all the time it took to get soft and spoiled again. Seduced by a comfortable bed, access to tv, fast internet, any kind of food you could imagine and all the board games you could play. He had just been dropped off by his friends mother. She was driving home after a vacation and going his way. He remembered her from high school, she had always seemed severe and a touch angry, but now in her semi retirement she was generous and quick to laugh. His teenage brain had probably misread her as they do.
The hill seemed tough at first. Not because of the incline, but because he didn't feel like he belonged here. He felt clean, freshly showered, he felt full, with a vanilla coke and a fast food breakfast sandwich in his belly. He wondered if he had made a mistake coming back out. This was the compromise leg of his hike. The original plan was to do half of the Appalachian trail, to crush out sixteen miles a day and do it in three months. Now he was not even halfway two months in. Restarting after an injury, and only planning on doing another three weeks before going back to work. That's the compromise, setting the hard date that the hike would end. It felt like he was starting from scratch and that made the first mile hard.
The rain was fogging his glasses. Only a few dedicated raindrops could manage to get through the canopy above him but the humidity and heat from his body was the perfect recipe for condensation. He had to stop every few hundred yards to wipe his glasses clear. He tried rubbing some of the oil and grease from the sides of his nose onto the lenses like his father did to prevent fogging. It had mixed results. Eventually he grew frustrated with his doubtful state of mind and he stopped. He took a few minutes to wrap his leg with a sticky black bandage wrap. He dry swallowed an Advil. And he unzipped the useless legs off his convertable shorts. He started up again shortly with ear buds in, listening to local news on the radio. As mud started to spatter the backs of his legs he was feeling like a hiker again.
Two hours later he was forced to switch from the radio to listening to the music his friend had sent him. He was going through the albums alphabetically and was on an instrumental album of guitar moaning. It was good hiking music with a plodding tempo. He saw some swamps, a small lake too. The trees were starting to shift. The lush deciduous trees of the middle States were starting to slowly morph into the new England pines that he had grown up with. He saw a few bright orange newts. They always came out when it rained. Before he had meticulously photographed each one with his phone. This time he just stopped and picked them up, gently tossing them off the trail so other hikers wouldn't step on them. The newts had the feel of thin rubber, like a glove, but in their limp panicked struggles he could feel the life inside them. The newts didn't seem to be harmed by the short tosses into the nearby leaf litter. He hoped they would live through these dangerous teenage years to return to the water and become salamanders.
His doubts about hiking were erased by the guitars, or at the least they were pushed down into a hole to bide their time. He was back on the trail, back to turning time into miles when abruptly he was at the shelter that was his goal for the day. It was a bit early to stop, but he had good reasons to quit for the day. He didn't want to push his leg too hard and he didn't want to have to find a good stealth camping spot in the rain if it started up again.
He came up into the campground, pulling the ear buds from his ears so as not to be rude. He was surprised to find the shelter packed with people. A smooth dog was barking at him, someone was snapping branches loudly tossing them into a smoking almost fire, couples were laughing and chatting, clothes were hung on lines everywhere capitalizing on the first fleeting sunlight of the day. He entered the camp quietly nodding to most, he exchanged the most words with the dog, which turned out to be quite soft and relaxed. The conversations of the others revealed they had been hiking together for a little while. He also noted a few others who were not skinny through hiker but bigger guys wearing under armour and dare to challenge shirts. A couple of older guys were present, one who just looked unhappy, the father of under armor, and one that he recognized from way back on the trail. An older guy named sci fi who was mostly known for napping directly beside the trail. Sci fi didn't seem to recognize him, which was fine because he was still in a bit of an anti social mood.
He took a few minutes to enjoy having his pack off, checked his phone. He found a picture in a text text message. His roommates done up in black and green goth formalwear. Their hair was freshly dyed matching vibrating green. A wedding portrait, one of the few things that he was sad about missing for this trip. His thumb glided over his phone to issue a congratulations. He signed the shelters log book. Then he wandered off to find a good spot to set up his tent.
Not too much longer he went back through the shelter area to fill his dirty water bag at the small tea stained stream nearby. Instead of heading back to his tent directly he hung out by the fire being a little bit social. The dogs name was delilah and the long haired proto weatherman started to sing "hey there delilah" word for word, while two of the other hikers argued over who originally sang the song. Just as he was pondering pushing the singing weatherman into the fire one of the girls started gagging.
A black ichor trickled from her lips for a moment, and her whole body seemed to momentarily swell outward then partially deflate. One of the bulky extreme shirt guys asked if she was ok. The woman just reached out putting her hand in his open mouth and started to pull down on his jaw with a sickening cracking noise. Her skin started to break shifting to the sides. He stood there stunned as underneath her sloughing skin he saw the same velvety rubber as the newts. Something was inside her former shell, her tight camp clothes holding the remains of her human body against whatever was underneath.
Delilah the dog was the first to act to try to save her master. She sank her teeth deep into the creatures thigh, letting out a continuous angry growl.
He heard more gagging and when he looked he could see the transformed girls boyfriend was dripping from the mouth with the same black. The camp was erupting into chaos, screaming and scrambling all around as the hikers tried to parse what was happening. Right in front of him he could see under armor guys jaw was dislocated as he struggled to push the creature away. Her hand had shoved it's way into his belly as well starting a stream of blood down his legs.
He finally snapped out of it and moved to help under armor. His arms wrapping around the creatures arms from behind as he tried to pull her back, helping delilah. He swore he could feel the outside of her body sliding around the core of wherever was under her shredding skin. The creature staggered back away from under armor, flailing and struggling against him. Whatever it was. The thing was strong and it was all he could do to hang on keeping the creature semi immobile. He saw weatherman swing a hiking pole uselessly against the creature. The light carbon fiber just bouncing off her face, revealing more of that smooth lizard skin and a single dark eyeball. He could hear a struggle behind him. As boyfriend creature started attacking, screams filled the air.
His arms started to burn as he squeezed the creature from behind. Her talons raking across his leg. He couldn't hold on much longer. He saw weatherman take the hiking stick, and this time he used it like a spear, jabbing it hard into the creature. This time instead of bouncing off, the tip jammed deep into the creatures chest. He felt the brief surge of strength in the beast as it struggled to escape. Knocking his arms free as weatherman stabbed again. The pole getting lodged but apparently hitting something vital making the ex hiker fall to the ground.
When he turned he could see the other female hiker holding a foot wide rock in her hands, pummeling something inside the shelter. He didn't have the stomach to look.
Two humans dead, one fled into the woods, two creatures dead as well. The survivors tried to call the authorities, but the phone lines were jammed. Those that had cell service, their phones started to babble with text messages and tweets. He had taken his shirt and used his leg wrap as a makeshift bandage but those talon gouges throbbed with pain, he definitely needed stitches.
While the others debated what to do he limped back to his tent. He passed delilah who had taken up vigil over her dead master, his face stuck in an expression of jaw broken surprise. He looked away not ready to deal with that. Back at his camp he rummaged through his medical bag,, finding one of white pain pills his roommate had given him. He hadn't planned on using them but this seemed like the time. As the chemical taste bit his tongue he wondered how his newly Wed roommates were doing.
He sat down on the ground by his tent, the saturated ground giving up its water to soak through his shorts. He found his iPod, numbly finding the radio setting and sliding the ear buds in. As the pain pill took effect he listened to the news of the outside world falling into chaos. Nobody was coming. Maybe this was the best place to be.
