The Misogynist (Republished)

Campsite

As I rounded the bend and the campsite came into view, my heart sank. There were 2 other tents set up already. I was really hoping to have the place to myself; it was the middle of the week. Plus, it was miserably hot-- after a 5-mile hike in, I was soaked in sweat and hoping to strip down and cool off in the stream.

I didn't see anyone outside the tents as I passed by to my site. Off hiking, maybe. It was almost sunset.

I found a shady spot, tucked back into the trees a bit, and started setting up. Sweat was dripping into my eyes. "Fuck it." I pulled my tank top over my head and used it to wipe my forehead.

Moments later I heard voices and laughter in the distance. For fuck's sake. I hastily pulled my shirt back on. It sounded like at least 2 or 3 guys. I was still hot, but I wasn't shameless.

I saw them before they saw me; 3 men. One of them had a hunting knife strapped to his leg. My heart was beating a little faster. There's no reason to freak out, I reasoned with myself. There's still cell service up here. I ducked into my tent before they saw me and shot off a quick text to my partner. "3 other people here, just in case I go missing, LOL."

Their names were Wes, Danny, and Michael. They were old high school buddies, who got together once a year for a week-long camping trip. Wes was the one with the knife. He looked like he'd be right at home swinging an axe or pounding fence posts, but he said he worked as a writer. Danny was in sales, and Michael worked at a bank. They'd come from all over the country; Michael was in Texas, Danny up from Atlanta, and Wes all the way from Oregon.

They were easy to talk to, and funny. That was a relief.

When I excused myself from introductions to go grab some water from the creek, Wes asked, "Is there anything we can help you with? We're pretty experienced with all this." I rolled my eyes a little bit. "This definitely isn't my first time camping alone." He put his hands up. "Just a friendly offering." I grinned. Fine. "Well, actually... I suck at campfires, so if you guys light one tonight..." He grinned. "We can tell spooky stories?" "Right," I said, laughing as I walked away.

Danny was tipping more whiskey into his mug, laughing at his own story. "And then, Michael ran around to the back of the store..." he snorted, almost crying, "he was banging on the doors and his fucking dick was just bouncing, and then we see cop lights. So he turns around and it's just like, fucking full moon there, and they're all shining flashlights at him..." Danny wiped his eyes and shook his head. "We just hauled ass -- hey!" Michael picked up a pinecone and it hit Danny in the chest. "Watch the drink, man!"

Michael turned to me, "What they're leaving out is they're the ones who locked the doors in the first place."

The energy was contagious. But when Danny passed around the flask, I held up my hand. "I don't really drink anymore... and I really don't want to have a headache tomorrow in that heat."

"Aw, come on," that was Danny. He was clearly feeling that whiskey. "A little bit won't be so bad. Promise it'll make you sleep like a baby."

I felt eyes on me. I glanced at Wes and felt my cheeks getting hotter. I'd caught him staring a few times. There was something about the way he was looking at me that made my pussy get hot. Maybe one drink would help me chill out a little bit.

"Alright, alright," I stuck my mug out and Danny cheered. "Okay, okay, that's enough!" I laughed as he poured. "Not everyone can hold their liquor like you guys. College was a long time ago for me."

"Oh, I bet you have some crazy stories," Danny was waggling his eyebrows at me suggestively. "Come on, let's hear something."

"I truly don't," I protested. But I was full of shit. The truth was, most of my crazy stories involved weird sex, and I wasn't about to tell those stories here, in the middle of the woods, alone with three dudes who each looked like they'd have no problem lifting me over their heads.