Chapter 1
Slish. Slosh.
Slosh. Slish.
My deep purple rain boots plop over puddles of gray waters and the mud wish-washes off the clingy, rubber surface of them. Rain softly patters, only sprinkling, and dots my hair like shards of ever-clear glass. As I near Lowell Park, fog blurs the once-clear pines, and I only spot their settle outline. Narrow fence posts dot the park boundary and I inhale the damp, heavy air. My rustic red cottage can barely be made out in the distance as I step over ponds between the dirt-scarred rocks. I can softly detect the clitter-clatter and miniature honk of a locomotive speeding through the humid, gray air. It’s as if the entire world is gray when the storms roll in.
My bangs swept across my angel-white face as I dodged the rain, getting denser by the minute. Sometimes I’m glad I have short hair, just a comb and I’m out the door in the morning. My ice blue eyes glinted as the last of the sunshine disappeared behind the horizon.
“Jace!” I heard a feminine voice in the east, and peering that way, footsteps crunched on the sandy colored gravel path. Who was that?
”Hey, Jace!” Heather appeared from behind the brush.
Heather had amber hair that swiveled down her back in an elegant braid, and her voice was soft, and very familiar. Of course, I’ve only known her my whole life, twenty-three years for the both of us. Her dark brown eyes danced as they viewed the plants, like they were inspecting a crime scene. She reminded me of a cat: intuitive, clever, and quick. Her orange sweater swayed a bit as a breeze blew in, picking up dirt and scattering debris.
“Oh, it’s just you. Hi ,Heather!” It was no wonder I was paranoid. Woodlawn Forest was said to be a mysterious place, with people disappearing in it all of the time. But it wasn’t a problem here, where all of the people gather, thank goodness! It is said many people disappear at the top of Woodlawn Ridge, a colossal hiking hill at the center of Woodlawn. But it’s good news that my favorite two authors, Leslie Howards and Maggie Lane, are both skeptics.
“I was wondering if you wanted to go hiking at Woodlawn Ridge today.” She spoke in a gentle way, as if she wasn’t a bit scared. I wasn’t completely fearless, but I told her I’d tag along.
