Let's Play in the Garden Read Online Free Page B

through the thick, obstructive arms of the trees just to sprinkle a few rays of light around.
    Mark unfolded the map in front of them. “Let’s sit down and figure out where we are.”
    They dropped their packs off their backs, the break a welcomed relief. Mark glanced over the map. “I’m not sure, but I think we’re just inside the borders of Willington. I just hope this forest isn’t throwing us off course. It seems to get deeper and darker the further we go. If we’re going in circles I’ll kill myself.”
    “If we don’t reach some civilization by nightfall we may have to spend the night right here,” Tom said.
    “That wouldn’t bother me. I love to camp out in the wilderness, under the stars. Nothing compares to it. C’mon, let’s keep moving.” Mark stuffed the map back in his pack and they returned to their travels.
    A snap echoed in the distance. Footsteps echoed among the trees and caught the men’s attention. A flock of birds fled to the air and the men froze in their tracks. Suspicions slithered into their thoughts. They knew they were not alone.
    “Did you hear that?” Tom asked nervously.
    Mark automatically put his hand on his friend’s shoulder.
    “C’mon, Tom, don’t let your imagination run away with you. It was probably just an animal.”
    “And if it wasn’t?” replied Tom.
    “What makes you think we’re the only ones that can walk through a forest?” With that, Mark gave a weak chuckle in an attempt to lighten the mood. He took hold of Tom and pushed him ahead, starting off again.
    Behind the men, a figure stepped out of the brush. It was tall and hulking. A strange air of havoc whirled around it.
    For a moment Tom and Mark didn’t notice the stranger and continued to move, their pace increasing little by little. The intruder moved as well, advancing with them and keeping their pace, never losing sight of them. It hid its face beneath twisted bands of bandages, tight, wince inducing, and streaked with dirt.
    On its head it wore a cowboy hat. Its clothes were oversized, hiding its exact body type. A brick-red flannel shirt, with black vest, was tucked clumsily into blaring white painter’s pants and snow boots. This ensemble was as protective as it was concealing.
    The men moved faster, and the stranger did the same, keeping pace. His footsteps were fast and heavy, and the men knew the entire time that they were being followed, terror surging through them, but they refused to stop or look back.
    “Mark, it’s gaining on us!” Tom’s face was flushed as his breathing grew quick.
    “What does it want?” Mark asked his buddy before yelling behind him. “Leave us alone!” He started to turn his head to see who was behind them. “Just leave us—!”
    “No!” cried Tom. “Forget that, who cares what he looks like. Let’s get the hell out of here!”
    They broke from walking fast to full-fledged running. They could hear the footsteps behind them growing faster and more determined. The two buddies continued to run, dodging logs, fighting the outstretched tree branches and brush, splashing through muddied rivers, running blindly, not knowing where to run, not knowing where they would end up.
    Then Mark noticed that the footsteps had ceased. They were no longer being pursued. “Stop. Tom, stop. He stopped chasing us.”
    They paused, sweat streaming down their faces, breath short and fear germinating.
    “W-where did he go?” Tom rambled.
    They searched about. The forest was again quiet and it seemed that they were now alone. “W-where could he have gone?” asked Tom. “H-he was right behind us. I heard him!”
    “Who cares? It just shows how tough he really was. He was outnumbered and he knew it. Coward!”  
    “Stop it, you idiot. Let’s just go before he comes back.”
    “He won’t come back. He’s a stinking coward!”
    They turned to continue on when a swift jab out of nowhere stopped Mark cold. A spade plunged deep into his stomach, blood sprayed thick