Camp of Monsters

The Forest

Spencer's bruised and battered knees bled down his shins. His lungs burned and his heart raced.

He slid down one of the hills on his side dodging the trees and larger rocks. The monster behind him didn't seem to even notice the barriers Spencer tried to put between them.

Spencer had been running fast enough to keep his distance from the creature, but his legs were growing tired and heavy. He couldn't keep this up for much longer.

He tried to gather his thoughts and he formulated a small plan. He reached down mid-stride and picked up a long stick laying on the ground. He suddenly stopped and swung the stick 'round with all the force he could muster.

The wood collided with a sharp crack into the head of the creature, stunning it. In pain, it collapsed to the ground in a heap. It was temporarily immobilized, but it was far from dead. Spencer seized his opportunity and dashed around the corner of a large section of the hill.

He realized that he no longer had any sense of direction as to where he was running. But he couldn't stop for anything.

His legs burned liked he had never burned before. Sweat dripped from his body and his blond hair clung to his face in matted sections.

He could soon hear the creature again in the distance behind him. Spencer grew weaker by the moment. He knew that he could not outrun it, he had to hide. With everything in him, he sprinted as far as he could from the creature. He turned sharply and threw himself down a slope.

When he reached the bottom, he scrambled behind the enveloping branches of a sloping tree. He pressed his back into the rough bark and tried to pull as much of his body out of view as possible. His muscles ached and shook violently as his heart pounded in his chest and lungs gasped for air.

Atop the ridge, he could hear the sound of the creature rushing above his head. To his relief, the noise trailed off leaving only his shallow and heavy breath to fill the night air.

Still gasping, he set his head against the tree and tried to regulate his breaths. He ignored his body's cries of pain as he began to plot his next move. He knew he had to find his bearings to get out of here.

Slowly his memory of the earlier day came back to him. He recalled the compass Katelyn brought in her bag and the light and batteries in his own bag which he had dropped somewhere in all of the commotions.

Spencer carefully rose to his feet. Afraid he might fall, he clung tightly to branches and trees as he began to climb up the slope he had just thrown himself down.

He moved as quietly as he could, his eyes darting from side to side in the ever darkening forest. His legs threatened to buckle beneath him but he was determined to keep moving.

When he reached the top of the slope, something caught his eye just up ahead. A red backpack rested up ahead on the upper ridge from where he had just fallen.

The darkness around him made it difficult to see most other things, but the bright red bag could not be ignored. He knew exactly who the bag belonged to, it was Katelyn's.

He knew he needed that compass. Spencer moved over to the bag and buckled to his knees beside it. He locked his eyes on it to keep from looking farther down the side of the earth to where he knew her body still laid muddled in blood.

As he began to dig through the bag, a sudden rush of guilt overtook him. He had just left her there to die, he didn't do anything to save her, and now, he couldn't even look at her.