Will stopped for a moment, taking a long drink from his water jug and wiping the sweat from his brow. It was usually cooler this time of year, but the late afternoon sun was still hot, and Will found himself hiking on one of the few trails that didn’t have tree cover because it was quicker than taking one of the closed trails to his destination.
Checking his GPS, he adjusted his course and took a deep breath.
“Only half a mile,” he said out loud as he set his backpack down and stretched his arms and back.
Half a mile sounded like a hundred miles now that he was tired, but he only had two more coordinates to check before sunset. The others had been a wash. After taking pictures and noting the coordinates on each of the incorrect entries, he’d narrowed it down to two possible winners. One was an ambitious nineteen-year-old man whose fandom bordered on obnoxious.
Will had already resigned himself to being subjected to a week of collaborating with the man, but he hoped that the other coordinates were the right ones. Those had come from an account he wasn’t familiar with, and he had a feeling that it was another phony account set up by the anonymous tipster. The coordinates were relatively close, so it was going to be a tight race for sure.
He took one more drink, then put his backpack back on his shoulders and set out again.
The forest was quiet, and more than once, he saw wildlife near the trail, freezing when they saw him then walking off calmly when they realized that he had no interest in them.
I wish I could film, he thought, but quickly pushed those thoughts aside. Yes, he was losing money not being able to film his exploration, but this job was making him more than a single video on social media ever would. Still, it was a hard loss. The trails were always so full of hikers that the wildlife rarely ventured this close to the beaten paths. He was seeing animals he hadn’t seen in months, and he knew that his followers would have loved to see them.
But this job was too important.
“Mr. Wittman is probably watching my social media anyway,” he muttered, spooking something hiding in the leaves nearby.
The leaves jumped up and fluttered back to the ground as the tiny animal made its escape, leaving a trail of disturbed leaves in its wake. Will chuckled at what was likely a tiny lizard that he would have never seen if not for the daring escape beneath the fallen leaves.
Will rounded the corner then stopped, pulling out his phone to look at the screen shot of the location to compare it to what he was seeing.
He smiled, jogging over and stopping just outside of the rocks that formed a natural seating area.
“This is definitely it,” he said, noting that the winner was the obnoxious follower and shrugging. “You just made me a cool million,” he said with a smile as he photographed the area. “For that much, I can collaborate with you for a week.”
He checked the final submission again, surprised at how close it was without being right. Curious, he left his loaded backpack where he stood, carrying just his GPS unit and his phone. He followed the trail until he stood on the exact spot the coordinates led him to, then he turned and looked around.
Looking at the photo again, he shuddered when he realized that the coordinates were the exact place that the photograph was taken from—which meant that the anonymous tipster and the ghost in his direct message folder were the same person. He would bet money that the tip had mysteriously vanished from his thread, along with the account that had given him the GPS coordinates.
He wouldn’t be able to check until he was out of the woods since there was no wireless signal where he was, but he knew that he was right.
A quick search of the surrounding area yielded nothing, so he left the little spot where the mystery photographer once stood, still feeling a little creeped out by the whole thing.
He was running out of daylight, and there was no way he could get down to the ravine before dark that night. Careful not to step on anything as he walked in a circle around the area where he had photographic proof that George and his ex-girlfriend had fought, he photographed everything that looked like evidence to him. There wasn’t much, and there was no way to tell if any of the footprints left in the dirt were from George and Charity or from hikers who had made the trek to this scenic spot over the past three weeks. There didn’t appear to be anything else left behind, including the picnic blanket that had appeared in the photo.
Will knew beyond a doubt that this was the place where the picture had been taken. If George had gone over the edge here, Will would find him or at least some really clear signs that he had been here and managed to get himself out of the ravine. Will looked over the edge at the dense foliage that covered the bottom of the ravine and crept up the steep sides of the cliff.
Surviving the fall would take a miracle, but even if George’s body was lying right below him, the ground cover would obscure it from his sight. He would be right on top of it before he would be able to see it, and even then, there was a chance that he would miss it altogether. Even with the information that he had, finding George was still a longshot.
He moved away from the edge, turning slowly and pretending that he wasn’t scanning the tree line just in case the mystery informant was back in the woods, stalking their prey. But he was alone on the overlook, and it was time for him to get his camp ready and get himself rested for the next day.
Consulting his map, he noted that there was a stream nearby that allowed motorless boating and swimmers. It was just over the ridge, less than an eighth of a mile away through the dense trees. He decided that he had enough time to make it there and back if he wasn’t bogged down with his heavy equipment, so he grabbed a change of clothes and a self-filtering water bottle and headed for the water.
The creek was closer than he expected, the water flowing fast enough to keep the water fresh, but not dangerously so. Near the edge, there were several places where the water ran in between a group of boulders, creating little pools where clear, deep water swirled aimlessly before finding its way out again. It was here that he set up, stripping out of his clothes and setting them within arm’s reach before stepping into the cool water that reached just above his hips.
Grabbing a handful of sand, he scrubbed himself from head to toe until he felt refreshed, then rinsed off and climbed out of the water. He would have liked to linger, but the light was fading fast, and he was only there to get clean. After his job was done, he would buy a hot tub and spend hours in it after each hike whether he was sore or not.
“Or maybe I’ll just buy a house that comes with a hot tub,” he said to himself, laughing. “I will be a millionaire, after all.”
He shook his head, still laughing as he dried his muscled body off with his shirt, then stood on it to keep his feet clean while he dressed in the fresh clothing he’d brought with him.
A lone buck stepped out of the trees in the meadow on the other side of the creek, watching Will for a moment before he found a succulent patch of grass to graze on. Will watched him for a moment, marveling at how majestic he looked with his huge antlers radiating in all directions from his regal head. The buck called out, and within seconds, a herd of does and their young babies wandered out of the forest.
A few cautious does paused to watch Will but were quickly reassured by the creek between them. There was no hunting where they were, which meant that the deer in this forest had no reason to fear a human from this far away and with water between them. But it was only a matter of time before those same deer would be thirsty, and Will had disturbed them long enough.
He gathered his things and made his way back to the campsite. Though he was still exhausted, he couldn’t help but get a bit excited as he set up camp for the night. It was almost over, and this time tomorrow, he should have some answers for the Wittmans—maybe not the answers they wanted, but answers just the same—all thanks to an anonymous tipster who had saved him quite some time.
His original grid formation was the most logical method for working his way through the wilderness, but now that he knew where George had last been seen, he was able to skip almost four days’ worth of grids. Whoever it was had done him a huge favor; he just didn’t know why, or what they wanted. The whole thing left him unsettled, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.
He looked around at the tree line again, a chill running through him at the thought of the stranger watching him from the woods. It was all so creepy. He couldn’t wait to get off this mountain and put some distance between himself and George Wittman.
Digging around in his pack, he found the MRE he wanted to eat for dinner and sat down on one of the large boulders he’d used as a makeshift windbreak for his tent. If the weather held, the night would be mild, bordering on the cool side. The extra windbreak provided by the large boulders that encircled the room-sized area would make the night that much more pleasant—which was good because Will needed a good night’s rest if he wanted to repel down the cliff the next day and continue his efforts.
He ate in silence as he watched the light disappear to the west. The stars came out one at a time until the sky was a deep, dark blue filled with twinkling little lights from galaxies far away. There was no light pollution this far away from the city, which made it possible to see the outline of the Milky Way. He felt so small, looking up at the vast universe from his perch on the small boulder. Stars that had burned out eons ago still twinkled above him, and he wondered again at the amazing beauty that surrounded the world while people went about their lives without noticing. He couldn’t imagine a more beautiful place to spend the night under the stars.
Too bad he’d come here looking for someone who was probably dead.
When he finally crawled into the sleeping bag and zipped up the screen on the tent, he decided to leave the outer door open so he could enjoy the night air. He slept with a can of bear spray near his hand, just in case. As he drifted off to sleep, he tried to forget about the grueling day ahead of him.
“It’s almost over,” he muttered to himself as he started to drift off.
It was almost over.