Mark couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that had settled in his gut. It was a sense of foreboding that had been growing ever since Old Man Stan’s ominous warning and the subtle tension that had settled over the camp after nightfall. Unable to sleep, he quietly slipped out of the tent, careful not to disturb Ethan, who was sleeping soundly beside him.
The night air was cool against his skin as he made his way to the truck. The old Ford F-250 was parked a little way from the camp, its frame still solid despite the years it had seen. Mark had always trusted the truck, just like he trusted his instincts, and right now, those instincts were telling him to be prepared.
He opened the driver’s door as quietly as he could, reaching under the seat where he kept the Remington shotgun. His fingers brushed against the cold steel, and he felt a sense of reassurance as he pulled the weapon out. The weight of it was familiar, comforting in a way, like an old friend he hadn’t seen in a while. Mark quickly loaded it, the sound of the shells clicking into place breaking the silence of the night. He then placed the shotgun in an easier-to-reach spot, just behind the driver’s seat, within arm’s length.
As he closed the door and turned back toward the camp, he hesitated. His eyes drifted to the tent he and Ethan were sharing, and he felt a surge of protectiveness. Things had been hard lately, and he knew how much this trip meant to both of them. It was supposed to be a break from everything, a chance to reconnect and just be themselves away from the pressures of the world. But now, with this creeping sense of dread, Mark couldn’t help but worry.
He walked back to the tent, slipping inside as quietly as he had left. Ethan stirred slightly as Mark settled back into his sleeping bag, his movements gentle but deliberate as he wrapped an arm around Ethan, pulling him closer. Ethan murmured something incoherent in his sleep, but soon relaxed into Mark’s embrace, his breathing steady and calm.
Mark lay there, staring up at the tent’s roof, feeling the warmth of Ethan’s body against his. He knew he probably wouldn’t sleep much tonight, not with everything weighing on his mind. But having Ethan close made him feel a little better, like whatever was out there couldn’t touch them as long as they were together.
Eventually, the first light of dawn began to creep through the fabric of the tent, soft and pale. Mark felt the tension in his body start to ease slightly. The night had passed without incident, and now, with the sun rising, things felt a little less ominous.
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By mid-morning, the camp was buzzing with activity. The group was in good spirits as they finished breakfast and started discussing plans for the day. The weather was perfect—clear skies, a gentle breeze, and the temperature just right for swimming.
As they packed up their things for a day by the water, more people began arriving at the lake. Families with children, couples, and groups of friends—all looking to enjoy the beautiful summer day. The atmosphere was festive, with the sounds of laughter and splashing water filling the air.
Ryan, who had stayed the night, was already shirtless, his lean, muscular frame catching the sunlight. Without any hesitation, he walked to the water’s edge and jumped in with a splash, drawing a few cheers from the group.
“Show-off!” Kevin called after him, grinning as he stripped down to his swim trunks.
Ryan surfaced, shaking water from his hair. “What? Afraid of a little cold water?” he teased.
“Not at all!” Kevin shot back, running and diving in after him. Tom, Sarah, and Jessica followed suit, laughing as they hit the water.
Ethan, standing at the edge of the water, looked back at Mark, who was still pulling his shirt off. Mark smiled at him, the earlier tension easing as he watched the carefree fun of their friends. “Ready to join the party?” he asked, stepping closer to Ethan.
