Before John starts walking again, he tries remembering happy thoughts. His eyes dart around the field and in the tree line before a memory comes to mind; It's the story him and Pete always joke about after they've had a few beers. Him and Pete were about 17 when they tried sneaking out of his house. His dad caught them as soon as they stepped into the backyard. The two of them still ran off as fast as they could as John's dad shouted after them. After they got to the 'sick party' Pete wanted to go to, Pete went straight into telling what just happen with great exaggeration.
The slamming of a door in the building behind him draws John from his thoughts. "Pete?" He asks without turning around. When there's no answer, he pushes himself off the wall and starts towards the path ahead. He thinks of zig-zagging through the tree lines and back to the path, but before he can even reach the tree line he sees the white masked face. He shouts out a string of curses as he stumbles backwards. The man was gone before he could even think straight. John bolted down the path, not wanting to be anywhere near the trees now.
He came upon two vehicles, one being more of a trailer. The truck was a Chevy and looked like it had been there a while. He tried the door anyway, but it wouldn't budge. Locked or just jammed shut? He didn't really care. He walked to the trailer and hesitated on going in. There wasn't much in it, and looked like the cieling had a leaking problem. He turned and left, noticing the note on the door. He picks it up, the familiar scribbled handwriting of 'Can't Run'. He stuffed it into his pocket. He had four now. Which meant he was halfway done with this stupid little game. That made him laugh out loud. But quiclky stopped when he saw the man in the woods again. He quickly turned on his heel and started walking again. He tried to stay quiet but the leaves under his feet weren't allowing it.
