The perfect hiking trip. It was all that was on my mind as I listened to the light crackling of my fire and gazed upon the stars.
It was easy to see why outlaws chose this place as a hideout, Robbers Roost Canyon was rugged and remote, far from civilization. It was a forbidding place, a place you didn't wander into lightly, or it might cost you your life.
"Hey! Hey you, over here." I swear I imagined it. The nearest person had to be 10 miles away.I looked around for second, then reasoned it away. I was imagining things.
"Over this way!" The voice was clearer and more emphatic.
I squinted in the darkness. All I could see was the soft orange glow on the sage bushes and the hollow of an old tree.
"Yeah, over here!" I was looking more intently at the tree, perhaps someone was hiding behind it.
I reached down to grab my knife as I got up. Maybe it was fellow hiker, lost in the wilderness. One can never be too sure.
"Yes, yes, bring the knife," the voice said. "I need help."
I warily approached the tree, expecting a person to emerge from behind it at any second."Down here," the voice beckoned. It seemed to come from the base of the tree.
I shined my flashlight at the base of the tree. There was a thick tangle of roots exposed above the ground. It seemed impossible that any person, even a child could have wedged themselves inside.
"That light is bright!"
"Sorry," I found myself saying. Did I accidentally have peyote or something?
"It's not from the fire," the voice continued. "You don't have a lantern. How are you doing that?"
"What do you mean?"
"That light, it's coming from that thing you're holding," the voice seemed genuinely confused.
"My flashlight?" I asked.
"Flash....light?" I wracked my brain trying to figure out what could have caused this hallucination. Maybe I had fallen asleep by the fire and was dreaming the whole thing.
"Yeah, a flashlight." I shook it in my hand to show whoever was hiding around the tree.
"Never saw one," the voice said. "Look, you gotta help me. You a friend of Butch's?"
"Butch?"
"Cassidy," the voice answered. "Or maybe you know Elzy or Sundance."
I was at a loss, but couldn't help but think of Paul Newman.
"Um, no," I managed to stutter. "They've been dead for a long time."
"Figures. Say can you cut me loose from here? Under the tree."
I shined the light under the tree. There wasn't anyone there.
"That thing...er, flashlight is some kind of bright! I'm seeing spots!"
I looked more closely, falling backwards with shock as I made the realization that the roots had grown into the shape of human skeleton.
"How did you get in there?" I asked.
"I hid here when I was being chased by a posse," the voice answered. "Got stuck and been here ever since. Can't say how long."
Now how exactly do you tell a person that they've become part of the tree?
YOU ARE READING
In 500... (or less)
Short StoryA collection of flash fiction, based off the Weekend Write-in Group prompts.