Fort Oakley | Part One

16 | The Woods Are Fun Until They Aren't

I woke up the next morning feeling as though my chest was weighed down with unanswered questions. Sleep had been elusive, my nightmares filled with flickering shadows and faint whispers I couldn't quite decipher.

As I sat at the kitchen table, staring into my untouched cup of coffee, I knew I couldn't just let it go. Something inside of me—whether it was curiosity, recklessness, or just a desperate need for recklessness—pulled me back to the woods.

Plus, none of this seemed as terrifying in the daylight as it had last night.

Before leaving, I grabbed Sheriff Lucien's taser, my gingers tightening around its cool surface as if it could offer me some kind of assurance. I slid it into the pocket of my jeans and stepped outside, the crisp morning air biting at my skin.

I decided to stick close to the riverbank. The rocky shore was easier to navigate than the tangled woods from yesterday. Sunlight dappled the forest floor, its warmth taking away the chill in the air, yet the coldness in my bones remained.

A sudden crunch nearby made me freeze in place. My breath hitched as I scanned the area, my heart pounding as if it might burst from my chest. The trees seemed to close in, their towering trunks pressing down on me as I strained to listen. There it was again—another crunch of dry leaves. My pulse raced and I gripped the taser in my pocket.

After what felt like an eternity, I spotted movement in the corner of my eyes. Something small and quick darted into the underbrush. A squirrel. Or maybe a raccoon. I let out a shaky breath, feeling ridiculous for getting so worked up over nothing.

I turned back toward the river, willing myself to calm down. But up I could take another step, I heard it—the unmistakable sound of someone running.

And they were coming straight for me.

I barely had time to react before the weight of a body slammed into me, sending me flying backward. My back came into contact with the rocky riverbank, the impact knocking the wind out of me. Pain radiated through my ribs, sharp and unforgiving. Before I could even process what was happening, I felt cold water envelop my upper body.

A man—bigger and stronger than me—was pinning me down, his hands pressing against my shoulders as he forced me deeper into the water.

Panic took over. I thrashed wildly, trying to free myself, but he was relentless. The icy river rushed around me, filling my ears and numbing my skin. My vision blurred as I tried to see through the river water.

I couldn't breathe.

My lungs screamed for air, but each time I gasped for breath, I swallowed more water. My strength was fading fast, and I knew I didn't have much time.

Desperation surged through me as I fumbled for the taser in my pocket. My fingers were numb and trembling, but I finally managed to wrap them around the device. I pulled it out and pressed it didn't the man's side, praying it would work. I hit the button, and a jolt of electricity shot through both if us. The shock wasn't as wasn't for me, but it was enough to make my muscle seize up for a moment.

The man let out a guttural yell and loosened his grip on me, giving me the chance to shove him off.

I hurried to my feet, gasping for air as I stumbled back onto the riverbank. My hands were shaking, and my heart felt like it might explode. The man was still writing on the ground, chance but not down for good. I couldn't risk running away from him.

My eyes darted around until I spotted a thick branch lying nearby. Without thinking, I grabbed it and swung it down on the man's head with all the strength I could muster.

He went still, his body crumpling into the muddy bank. I dropped the branch, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. Water dripped from my hair and shirt, soaking my jeans. My throat burned as I coughed up what felt like half the river, each gasp of air a painful reminder of how close I'd come to drowning.

It took me a moment before I dared to loot at the man again. His face was partially obscured by the mud and water, but I recognized him instantly. He was one of the men who had tried to kill Lieutenant Roscoe. The memory hit me like a slap, and I felt a wave of nausea wash over me.

He had come after me for what I saw in the woods. He had tried to kill me like they were going to kill Lieutenant Roscoe.

I pulled out my phone with trembling hands and snapped a picture of his face. The forensic sketch I had given to the police was pretty damn accurate, but a picture would do wonders.

My finger hovered over the screen as I dialed Sheriff Lucien. It rang only once before he answered, his voice sharp and alert.

"I'm on my way. Get out of there right now, Charly," he ordered once I quickly filled him in on what had happened and where I was. "There's no way of knowing if the other guy is also there. And do me a favor, would you? Stay out of the damn woods for a while."

"You don't even have to ask, Sheriff. I'm going to head to Mr. Hugh Wesson's place. It's close."

"I'll meet you there once I handle this."

I ended the call and took one last look at the unconscious man. My instincts told me to get the hell out of dodge, and I didn't need to be told twice. My legs felt like lead as I forced myself to move, each step instincts than the last. My body ached, and my lungs still burned, but I pushed forward, the thought of the another man being around here somewhere pushing me me forward.

As I stumbled through the woods, my mind reeled from what had just happened. I had come looking for answers, but all I'd found was more danger. My curiosity had nearly cost me my life, and I wasn't sure if it was worth it anymore.

Whatever secrets this town held, it could keep them.

For now, I just needed to get out of here.