The Missing Ranger

You just let the silence surround you, feel the soft breeze and the branches crack under your feet. It's in our nature to yearn for such scenery - no matter how much we thrive in busy, concrete soaked cities, forests are always welcoming and refreshing to us. The air is clear and crisp, and daylight plays hide and seek through the tall branches. It's inspiring and beautiful.

Sometimes, though, as you walk on your path, your mind begins to focus on small things - noises, gusts of wind, shadows in the trees. Such silence can be both welcoming and unsettling - depends on how you view it. Forests are double-sided coins: they hide you away from the tiring city landscape, but expose you to another environment.

You're not in control anymore, because this is not your home.

You can lie to yourself and build a house there, but you don't belong in a forest. You're merely a visitor.

That's national parks for you: an illusion of being in control. The fake freedom you feel when you walk on those marked paths and camp in the square assigned to you, when you think the silence around you is peaceful, but even the silence is an illusion.

Visit a forest again: even when it's silent, is it, really?

It's not. Complete, absolute silence means death. Fear it.

My father taught me that.

He's a park ranger, and he's been doing this job since forever. I wasn't much of a fan of national parks, especially because most of the time there's no service and the hikes are killing me. I'd rather enjoy nature by swimming in a lake or skiing. Why break your legs to end up to a high point, just to see a random valley?

Not to mention the animals - they were everywhere, and the insects always got on my nerves. I never understood his love for the forest. I guess that was one of the reasons why he started telling me scary stories from his night shift. Looking back, they were obviously made up, but to younger me, they seemed believable. I used to think he was so brave for working the night shift.

As I got older, I got into horror and, even if I didn't believe in his forest creatures anymore, I still liked the idea of spending the night in a small cabin in the middle of nowhere, just for that dose of adrenaline. When my father said he wanted to take me with him, I accepted immediately.

I knew why he offered. See, over the past years, our relationship had taken a big hit. I guess I was growing up and he didn't know how to handle that. He'd become emotionally distant and seemed to repel any of my tries to open up to him. In return, I'd become uninterested and irritable. In the words of my mother, this would have been a fun way to bond, I guess.

We arrived at the park around 9PM. His shift started at 10PM and ended at 6AM. His Jeep pierced through the darkness and ventured into the woods - the headlights flashed the trees, turning them white against the black sky. I'd never been on this route but, again, my visits to the park were rare.

We drove for a while. Most of the time, people underestimate the size of national parks. It took us an hour and a half to get to the cabin, which wasn't even in the heart of the forest. I saw it, one single trace of humanity in the middle of nowhere: a tiny, wooden cabin with flickering lightbulbs and watchdogs.

Before we got out of the car, my father stopped me.

"Listen. There's some instructions you need to follow here. I know it might seem unimportant, but they're crucial."

Then, he handed me a piece of paper. A list of handwritten rules.

At first, they were ordinary: don't go out alone in the park, don't leave food out, etc. I thought the rest of the rules had been put there just to freak me out.

"Dad, I'm not twelve anymore. You can't freak me out with this shit."

"I'm not trying to. You wanted to come here with me, so act accordingly."

"What even is this? If you see a man without an arm, don't help him..."

"We have all kinds of weirdos around here."

"And this? If the whistling is near you, it means they're far?"

My father smiled, but his eyes didn't. "Some of these are added by superstitious fellas. It's more of a what-if. It's not gonna happen to you."

1. Don't go out alone in the park. Always have a working contact device.

2. Don't leave marked paths, unless instructed to and / or with proper equipment.

3. Don't leave food out, and lock the trash bins.

4. Always keep on the whistle and the badge.

5. If you see a man without an arm, don't help him.

6. Your family is not in here. Remember. There is no reason for you to hear their voices from outside.

7. Lock your car doors, even when you are driving.

8. Check the marks on the trees. There's only three types of marks, all triangles. Red, yellow and green. Other marks are not ours. Don't follow them.

9. If the whistling is near you, it means they're far. If it's far away, it means they're near.

10. Beware of Dead Blue.

"What is Dead Blue?" I asked.

My father sighed. "You know when you're out in the woods? When you think what you hear is silence, but you realize there's dozens of sounds around you, from birds to crickets to leaves rustling?"

"Yeah."

"That's because there's no such thing as silence. Absolute silence. Never. There's always sound. Movement. Life. Dead Blue is complete and utter silence. That's our... um, code name for it. Deaf inducing silence. Unnatural."

"Right. And when that happens..."

"It won't."

"But if it does?"

He paused, staring at the steering wheel. Then, his head turned to me. His eyes darted from mine to the window behind me. "You leave."

That being said, he got out of the car and I followed. The cabin was dusty and cramped - I couldn't understand how he could spend 8 hours in here. He had a small TV, but it wasn't working, a desk, and a minifridge. "You sit here all alone?" I asked.

"Yeah. Why, that freak you out?"

"Don't you get bored?"

"Martin's post is ten minutes away. Sometimes I just drive over. Nothing really happens out here anyway. My spot is pretty far from the campsites - I just have to patrol from time to time to make sure no one wanders off into the night, but that rarely happens. This is one of the wilder areas - less explored."

"You haven't explored it all?"

His eyes sparkled. "Wouldn't be possible."

"So you don't know what's out there?"

"That's the fun of it. You said you wanted adrenaline. There you go."

I nodded. He opened the minifridge and threw me some juice. Orange juice. I'd mentioned I liked this brand once, and he'd remembered.

Maybe our relationship wasn't so bad.

We sat next to each-other in the small cabin. Dad locked it.

"I'm not gonna lie to you, most of the time I just sleep. Literally nothing ever happens."

"So you really didn't see any creatures out there, like the ones you told me about when I was little?" I jokingly asked.

"The only creature out there is my manager, and I'd rather face a million cryptids than talk to him."

I laughed. I leaned in to look out the windows. "I can't see anything. Just my reflection."

"Want me to dim down the light?"

"Yeah."

He did, and darkness crept inside the tiny cabin. The woods became more prominent, more vivid. The light made by the moon was unbelievable, and the stars were actually visible, compared to the polluted city. The cabin was on a hill, propped up a tree, with a trap door and a ladder leading to our car. We could actually see above the tree line, into the valley.

We spent the first hours talking. Somewhere around midnight, I began dozing off. I didn't want to, but I caved in and fell asleep with my head on the desk.

He woke me up. I rubbed my eyes in confusion. "What time is it?"

"I got a call from Martin."

"Right. Who... was Martin?" I mumbled.

"The other one in the area. He says he got a call from the campsite, and someone's missing. We need to go search for him."

"We? As in us?"

"Yeah. You'll stay in the backseat. I'm on the phone with Martin right now."

I could hear Martin's muffled voice through the speaker. Wait, don't take the kid.

"Why not? He'll stay in the car."

Paul, it could be one of... those nights.

"We won't get out of the car."

You can't guarantee that.

"Well, I can't leave him here. Alone. In the dark."

A pause followed. Look, Paul, I understand you wanted to do a take your kid to work day, but I don't know about this one. It could be dangerous.

"We're literally just going to drive around for a bit. It's fine."

Leave him in the cabin.

Dad put his hand over one of the speakers, so I didn't understand what Martin told him. His eyes kept darting to the window behind me. He sighed. "Martin will come pick me up. You are staying here, locked. Turn the lights off and wait for me to return. It's gonna take a minute and you'll be safe here."

"What? I'm not staying here alone! What did Martin tell you to change your mind?"

"It doesn't matter. I'll return in maximum half an hour. You can go back to sleep if you want. Or I can call you and we can talk."

I was afraid. Truly afraid. I did not want to show it, especially after I'd complained that nothing interesting happened around there, so I reluctantly agreed. My dad opened the trapdoor and climbed down the ladder, then his face disappeared into the darkness.

I saw Martin's car pick him up and drive away.

Silence followed. I wished I'd been home, in my bed. Instead, I sat stiff on the chair, and waited.

And waited.

I began imagining the worst. What if they'd crashed? What if a bear had found them? I didn't want to let my fear get the best of me, but I thought about his legends, and the set of rules. I hoped the writers were just paranoid.

At around 2AM, I heard a knock on the trap door.

I felt my chest tighten. Another knock followed. I wanted to respond, but something in me didn't allow me to.

Then, I heard my dad's voice.

Kev, open. It's cold out here.

It echoed through the cabin. My eyes were dry from the lack of sleep, but my mind was fully awake. I stared at the phone. Then, at the trap door.

Kev, open, please. I know you're there, I saw you at the window.

I turned off the light, completely. I don't know why I had this urge, but if my dad could see me from the window, anyone could. Or anything. And I didn't like to be on display like that.

"You don't have a key?"

"It locks from the inside."

Shit, yeah.

"How was it? Did you find him?"

"Yeah, we did. He was drunk off his ass. We helped him return to his friends. Could have been a lot worse."

As I was talking to him, I searched for the keys in the drawer.

It was strange, because I hadn't heard anyone climbing the ladder.

Or seen Martin's car drive my dad back to the cabin.

"How did you get here, without Martin?"

"What do you mean? Open up, Kev, I'm freezing."

"A-answer the question."

"He did drive me here."

"Didn't see any headlights."

"They were off, to not draw the attention of animals."

Bullshit. I pulled out the crumpled piece of paper.

6. Your family is not in here. Remember. There is no reason for you to hear their voices from outside.

My hand was shaking so bad, I could barely grab the phone. I skimmed through my contacts. Cade F. Connor. Dad.

I called him. The phone was ringing, yet no sound came from beneath the trap door.

My dad picked up.

"Anything ok?"

In the blinding darkness of the cabin, surrounded by the howling wind, I toned my voice down to a whisper. "Dad, someone out there is pretending to be you."

A long pause followed. When he spoke, his voice was trembling. "Don't open. Turn off the lights. Did you turn them off when I told you?"

"I... I turned them off now."

"No, you should have turned them off when I left."

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Don't talk to it. Did you talk to it?"

Guilt crept up my spine. I don't know why, but I lied.

"I did not."

"Good. Stay put. I'm coming after you."

"But what if the thing sees you? You'll have to... face it."

"We have ways to distract them. It's fine. Don't be scared."

I lied again. "I'm not."

"Good. I love you. I'm coming."

I wasn't scared for me. I was scared for him.

The voice from below continued. Kev, please open. Please. It's cold.

I didn't answer. Knocks followed. The voice went on.

Did you talk to someone on the phone? Kev, I lost my phone in the woods. Whoever is out there and has my phone is not me. It's not me. It's not me.

It kept repeating.

It's not me.

It's not me.

I began feeling lightheaded. Fear is one thing, but this was a combination of anxiety, stress, and guilt. I tried to control my breaths, but to no avail. The cabin was spinning around me.

It's not me.

It's not me.

It's not me.

It's not me.

It's not me.

It's not me.

*"*Shut up! Shut up!"

And it did.

Silence followed. I pulled out the list again and started reading and re-reading the rules, like a lunatic. I kept listening for noises from outside. The wind was still going. Good. No Dead Blue.

Then, I heard a loud thud from my wall. Another followed, and another. It sounded like... footsteps? They moved to the roof of the cabin.

I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. Whatever was out there was now climbing around my cabin. I could hear the scratching outside. I started to cry, and covered my mouth with my hand.

I just wanted my dad. I wished I could see his face again.

The universe, somehow, ironically responded, because my dad's face suddenly appeared at one of the windows.

He raised his hand and knocked. I stared at him through my eyebrows, my head tilted. Scarcely breathing, I remained still. "He" kept knocking. That wasn't my dad. The cabin was tied to a tree, at around 10 meters from the ground. He could not be at the window.

The creature knocked and knocked, and for what seemed like an eternity, we just made eye contact. Blood was dripping from one of its "nostrils".

Another phone call woke me from my trance.

"Kevin, are you there? Are you in the cabin?"

"Yes. And the thing looks like you. And it's at the window."

"I'm coming right now. I'll shoot it. Don't worry. I'm just about to turn a corner."

"Dad, I'm really scared for you."

"Martin's coming, too. It's okay."

Truly, in a few minutes, Martin's car pulled up. I cried in relief. The thing turned its head to look, then back to me. It opened its mouth wide, and, using its fingers, pulled the corners upwards, to form a smile, then jumped into the woods, into the darkness.

Gunshots followed.

After a few silent minutes, I called my dad. He picked up. "Where are you?" I asked.

"I'm coming to get you."

I saw him walk towards the cabin, then heard him climb up the stairs. I unlocked the trapdoor and hugged him tight. "What was that? Please, tell me we're going home."

"We are. I'm so sorry. I should have never put you through this. Come on."

As we walked towards our car, my blood ran cold. It was not something I'd seen or heard, but the opposite. See, the wind had stopped. The crickets had stopped.

Dead Blue.

I sprinted to the car, got into the driver's seat, then locked the doors.

My dad was standing in front of the car, confused. That's when I got a text, and I hit the gas. I ran him over, then turned the car around and sped up into the night. I barely knew how to work it out, since I didn't have my license, but I left as quick as possible. Behind me, a car followed. When I got to the nearest checkpoint, I stopped.

The car was Martin's. He got out, alone.

"Where's my dad?" I asked.

"He, uh, took an ATV to get you. Said he'd get there faster. I texted him to turn around, and that you were safe."

The text he'd sent me. Martin and I split up. He may get there faster than me, and if he does, he'll text me to turn and head to the checkpoint. There is no one with Martin. He's alone.

I'd thought I'd unlocked the trap door to my dad, when he'd actually taken an ATV and turned to the checkpoint.

The thing I'd ran over wasn't my dad, and I'd known it since I felt that unnerving silence.

However, no one at the checkpoint had seen my father. As I'm typing this, I'm afraid for him, but a part of me knows he's alive. Maybe he took another route, or got lost. Whatever he did, I'll find him.