The Long Weekend in the Woods - Chapter 1

{This story is going to switch between the perspectives of three different characters. Whichever character's perspective it's written from, their name will be at the top, so hopefully it'll remain clear whose eyes we're seeing things through. I'm going to try and get this whole thing posted before the end of November. We'll see.}

The Clever Adolescent Panda (CAP)

We rolled to a stop in the middle of the woods, just before reaching a creek. Calvin said it could flood sometimes, but right now it was almost dry. 50 yards beyond the creek was a metal gate with a big padlock. I opened the passenger door and rolled out, while Calvin stepped out of the driver's side and stretched. I heard his back pop in a couple of places.

"Where are we right now?" I asked.

"This is the old entrance to Site 9, from before they redid all the roads in. This is as close as we can get, 'cause there is no way I'm taking my ride in there." Calvin replied with a grimace.

"That's OK, I'd like to hike after all the time in the car." I tried to be upbeat.

"See if you still feel that way when you're covered in ticks." Calvin clearly wasn't in the mood for upbeat, but maybe that was the presence of our other passenger, who decided to join in just then.

"We're supposed to march all over this muggy wilderness because you're afraid your truck will get a boo-boo?" Pollock put a lot of sarcastic emphasis on the end of the question as she stepped out of the driver's side rear door.

Calvin didn't even turn. "No, I'm afraid flaming rocks will fall from the sky on it, or a unicorn will puncture the radiator with its dying breath. Also, I don't have 4-wheel drive."

"You don't want to have to walk back to civilization, Pollock. Believe us, this is safer." Calvin and I went to the back of his SUV to grab our gear while Pollock muttered about how neither of us would know civilization if it punched us. We each grabbed a backpack and started adding water and sandwiches. Calvin opened one of his tool kits and pulled out the largest wrench, hefted it, then added it to his bag. I had brought a half-dozen of those Aura Lock grenades that came in handy last time we were here, plus some binoculars Calvin loaned me and a few other things that might help.

Pollock eyed the two of us, obviously curious, but not wanting to look ignorant. Finally she asked Calvin, "Why didn't you bring a gun, or are you expecting to tighten some lug nuts before we go?"

Calvin jerked his thumb at me. "CAP didn't approve of me bringing a gun. I'm not sure whether I'd do any good with it anyway, so I didn't have to be convinced very hard. If you're planning to bring one, better not wave it around until you need it."

I gave Pollock a close glance. "Are you armed?"

Pollock held up both arms. "No, I wasn't expecting to be in combat today. Not with anything worth killing, anyway." She gave the two of us a condescending smirk.

Calvin closed the hatch and walked past her without a word. I didn't understand why she was even here. I mean, I knew why she said she showed up at Calvin's apartment as we were getting ready to leave. Something about us paying for the repair bill on her rental car after some mayo got in the ventilation system. Which really meant she was bored. But I didn't understand why Calvin, after flatly stating he wasn't paying squat, told her she could come along on our possibly dangerous mission. He'd ignored her since then, though, which was weird since he's usually the one keeping Pollock and I from fighting. Unless she's fighting both of us. Maybe 3 hours of her criticizing his taste in music and refusal to use the AC had him questioning his thinking.

I reached into my bag and asked Calvin. "Would you like the gas gun?"

He took it with a nod and asked, "Any of the canisters have knockout gas, sleeping gas? Or just stink gas, smoke, and the like?"

Pollock cut in again, "Don't give this idiot knockout gas! He'll put us all to sleep."

"We didn't face much that seemed like it could be knocked out last time, so I didn't bring any like that."

Calvin shrugged, again ignoring Pollock's jab. "Better than nothing, or this wrench." He didn't take the wrench out of his bag, though." He started across the creek towards the gate.

Pollock was here now, like it or not. I didn't think we could trust her, but at least this was a place she didn't know. It might put her at a disadvantage to be on totally unfamiliar ground if she did try anything. I'd still have to watch her. Once we'd climbed the gate and were inside Site 9, Calvin paused and reached into his pack, pulling out a tall green can.

"Anybody want bug spray?"

I shook my head. "I can alter my aura so I don't register as a food source."

Pollock reached down a flipped a switch on her belt buckle. There was a noticeable hum in the air a moment later. "Personal repellent field."

I looked over at her, trying to appear innocent. "How can you tell it's working? You repel people all the time." Calvin let out a short bark of a laugh, which was more than I'd gotten out of him all morning.

Pollock rolled her eyes. "Very clever, twit. That's not how it works. It actually -"

Calvin threw the can back in his bag and started further in. "Talk as ya walk."

I trotted up next to him and sniffed. He hadn't applied any bug spray. "What are you using?"

He flicked his eyes in my direction for a moment, and replied, "Indifference." Then went back to watching the road ahead. I sighed at his stubbornness and followed, Pollock bringing up the rear.

Calvin

The trail we were hiking down was pretty grown over, even a few small trees starting to sprout up. Nobody had driven it in over 6 years, except spirits. But they don't leave much of an environmental impact. The trees overhead were a dense canopy, and combined with being in a valley, it was surprisingly dark for late morning. Pollock chattered on about her repellent field, how it produced a subharmonic at a frequency that disrupted the wingbeats of nearby insects.

CAP whispered to me, "Why did you bring her along?"

"I wasn't leaving her at my apartment with neither of us there to defend it."

My friend gave me a piercing look. "That's not the real reason."

This is true. I was uneasy about this whole thing, and CAP knew it. We were down here because Cassanee hadn't replied to the panda's mailed invitation to Blogsgiving, and that was worrying the increasingly big bear. And I'd heard a few things from Makes-Brakes-Fail-Lass while she was working in the area over the winter that made me worry. Things she'd seen moving about. So here we were, back on Site 9, after I considered us lucky to make it out alive the last go-round. With Cass and Deadpool both MIA, we were short on available help.

I didn't mention any of this specifically when I replied, "The last couple of scrapes we got into down here, we could have used someone who knew magic. Since I doubt we'll stumble across another robot-wizard, Pollock was the only person I knew, and she just happened to be there." That was true, as far as it went, which was apparently far enough for the fuzz buddy, as they abruptly changed the subject.

"Don't ticks crawl rather than fly, Calvin?" the panda asked in a too-loud voice.

Sure, let's have some fun on the way. Why not? "I believe they do, my good chap. Although I have heard that they like to fall out of trees on people. But mostly they crawl, yes."

Pollock stopped dead and stared at both of us. "Are you serious?"

I failed to conceal my surprise. "Are you serious? You didn't know ticks don't fly?"

"I've never encountered a tick in my life," Pollock reached into my backpack, came out with the bug spray, and began spraying herself frantically. She must have inhaled some of it, because she started coughing and spitting, but didn't stop spraying.

I took a step back and glanced at my amused companion. "Cripes, this neophyte is gonna get us killed, CAP." It did explain wearing a cape into potentially dense woods, and I wasn't sure those pirate boots had enough ankle support, either. "I burned a vacation day for this," I whined.

CAP ignored this, trying to boost Pollock's spirits instead. "At least your belt keeps away horseflies and gnats."

"Don't patronize me," she snarled.

"We just don't want you to freak out and go crazy on us. You lose it out here, you're in a world of hurt."

CAP looked at me. "Predator, right?" I nodded.

"Your concern is touching, if insincere. Let's go find the strange girl and get out of here." Pollock gestured towards the trail ahead of us impatiently.

The trail wound up a hill to a ridgeline. Checking one of the old maps Makes-Brakes-Fail Lass had sent along as a memento, we figured out where we could cut across to a newer road. So far things were quiet. No ghosts, the Sun was proceeding in its normal arc across the sky. We reached a trail junction near a place where they'd harvested some trees 7 years ago and stopped for a water break. I took a minute to pick ticks off my pants while we kicked around ideas.

"You picking anything up with those heightened senses?"

CAP paused and tested the air. "There's a scent I don't recognize from our last visit. It's old here, but there's still a strong earthy odor to it, kind of dank."

"I'm guessing that's not Guyamo's scent."

Shake of the head. "No, and Cassanee could handle him, as long as he didn't get his hands on more of those crystals."

"Makes-Brakes-Fail Lass didn't mention seeing any faceless guys with chainsaws."

Pollock had seemingly been absorbed checking for ticks, but interjected at that point. "Faceless men with chainsaws? What the hell did you two get up to out here?"

I shrugged. "Little of this, little of that. Nothing too strange."

"Faceless men with chainsaws don't qualify as strange?"

"I don't look closely at the faces of people attacking me with chainsaws. Maybe they never have faces."

CAP had settled into a comfortable seat and clapped excitedly. "Oooh, like the chainsaw is the real being and the person is the tool?"

"When are you being attacked by people with chainsaws?" Pollock wasn't letting this go, which was fine. I felt like winding her up a little.

"Plenty of times. I just don't make a federal case out of it."

"You're lying, I'm sure you're lying."

I shrugged, the indifferent air coming easily and annoying Pollock.

"ANYWAY," CAP cut in, "I don't think it's Guyamo. It could be those roving bandits Cassanee mentioned."

"Just as long as it isn't that visage of death that we had to give my blue hoodie."

Pollock's mouth hung slightly open at that last line, but she shook it off and threw in, "Maybe the raccoons put all those wrenches the furball here gave them to nefarious use."

CAP seemed dubious. "I don't think they'd do that."

"They used to take the stakes we used to keep traps in place and steal our bait balls. With wrenches they could have escalated to home invasion and carjacking." I was mostly joking. "You picking up any raccoon scents?"

Again the snout was raised, a few more deep inhales. "A few, mixed with something bigger. They're headed east, the same way the other scent gets stronger."

"Everybody's headed the same way. Sounds like a place to start," I pushed off from the tree I was leaning on and started forward.

"I don't suppose it occurred to you to try tracking the sour girl's scent instead?" Pollock sounded bored, like she couldn't believe she had to point this out.

I saw the fur raise on the back of CAP's neck a bit. "Yes, it did, and I've been looking for it. But there aren't any recent signs around. We've been headed towards her home this whole time."

"It was just a suggestion."

And at that, CAP spun on their rear legs and stared down Pollock. "You know, for someone who didn't even know ticks can't fly, and didn't bring any gear, you sure think you have all the answers. Calvin and I know what we're doing. We've had plenty of these adventures, and they went fine, all without your help. Which you should know, considering how many of those adventures involved beating you."

Pollock started a retort, no doubt planning to evoke all the times she got the upper hand in our April Fool's Day confrontations, but I didn't hear it. I opted to keep walking in the direction CAP had indicated. They'd catch up eventually.

Site 9 absorbs strong emotions and memories, good and bad. The results manifest in different ways. There are spirits, or memories that take an almost material form. CAP thought the strange movements of the Sun, the abrupt changes in wind and magnetic fields were connected as well. Either the energy affecting our perceptions, or our perceptions altering reality. Guyamo weaponized all that, took despair and hopelessness and crushed people with it. But there's a low level of it all the time in the background, wearing on your patience and energy. I don't think CAP would have snapped that quick otherwise, even thought I knew they weren't happy I'd invited Pollock along. Hell, I wouldn't have gone wandering by myself while they were at each other's throats normally, either. They could be in a full-on brawl and I'm strolling away. I didn't turn around, though.

I reached the edge of the ridge and peered down the north side (I thought it was north, compasses and the Sun's position were frequently useless for navigation). Something had happened on that slope. There were furrows torn in the earth, dirt and rocks overturned and tossed aside. Trees were on the ground, but knocked over, not cut. The trunks showed signs that something hit them at high velocity and sent them down. Other trees had gouges. One had a basketball-sized rock embedded in the truck at shoulder height. And in one tree, there was a piece of metal sticking out, curved on the exposed end. I grabbed hold of it and managed to pull it out. It was one of our old stakes, or metal cut and bent in the same design. I glanced around the hollow. It seemed deserted. There were trails in the leaf litter, but this time common sense overruled impatience. I turned back the way I came.