PROLOGUE
Flames rose into a
dancing pyramid that sent thick smoke into the night sky. Chad sat cross-legged a few inches from the circular
barrier, adjusting the stones confining the blaze. The heat warmed his cheeks, but the chilly
November night pushed back, nipping at his ears.
A charred log rolled off
the burning pile in the heart of the blaze. Chad scooted it back in place with a crooked
branch, knocking off a layer of ash and scooting several scorched pine cones
towards the burning center.
"Quit messing with
it," Drake said, waving a skewered marshmallow over the bonfire, tanning
its sticky white flesh.
"It's dying. Dad needs to hurry back with more wood."
"If he catches you
messing around with the fire, he'll take away both of our video games. I'm not getting in trouble for your
stupidity."
"I'm fine. I can handle it."
Chad grabbed a flat, oval
stone poking out from the blanket of ashes inside the pit. Heat zapped through his gloves, and he dropped
the rock with a yelp.
"See?" Drake took a bite from his perfectly browned
marshmallow. "You're an
idiot."
Chad rubbed his hand, his
pride hurt more than anything else.
Secretly he wished he could roast the marshmallows as good as his older
brother. Drake always cooked them evenly
and with the right amount of squishiness.
Every time Chad brought one near flames, it ignited and scorched, leaving
the treat's crust crispy black and the interior molten hot.
Practically inedible.
Thank goodness Mom always
brought graham crackers and chocolate to mask his flawed cooking.
Drake jabbed another
marshmallow on a thin, pointed stick and tossed the bag to Chad. "Try not to burn the forest down."
"Very funny."
"Who is burning down
the woods?" Dad asked as he entered the clearing carrying an armful of
lumber. "I told you both to be
careful with the fire."
"We are." Drake's eyes darted to Chad. "I'm just picking on him."
"Well, knock it
off. No bickering on this trip. You're getting too old for that
nonsense. Is your mother still not back
from the showers?"
Chad and Drake both shook
their heads.
Dad stacked the wood on a
neat pile beside Chad. "I don't
know who that woman is trying to impress out here."
"Probably you,
Dad."
Dad rubbed Chad's shaggy
hair. "You may be right."
Chad skewered a
marshmallow on a longleaf pine branch he'd whittled to a point. The weight of the confection bent the branch,
and the sugary puffball bobbed as he positioned it near the flames.
The fire popped, and
several burning embers soared upwards. Where
they fairies escaping the blaze, or could the fire be communicating with
them? Chad closed his eyes and absorbed
the singing fire, listening for messages hidden its music.
"Your marshmallow is
burning," Drake said.
Chad snapped into reality
and blew out the burning ball at the end of his spit. Scorched flakes peeled off the treat's overcooked
exterior. He huffed.
"You got to watch
them." Dad sat between the boys and
stretched.
Drake held up his skewer,
showing off another perfectly cooked puff.
"Keep daydreaming and all of life will pass you by."
"Easy, Drake. Without dreams, man has nothing to reach
for."
Dad tossed a few logs on
the fire. The flames parted before
embracing the new wood.
Chad bit into the snack,
filling his mouth with sugary smoke.
"Are we playing
commandos later?" Drake asked.
Chad perked up. The nighttime hide-and-go-seek game
highlighted his family's monthly camping trips.
Dad waited fifteen minutes as the boys disappeared in the woods before
he went looking for them. If they could
remain hidden for an hour, they won. No
matter how well they hid, Dad always seemed to track them down, as if he could
see in the dark. By the time they
finished, Mom would have hot cocoa ready.
"Sure, but we need to
call it an early night. Tomorrow I want
to go fishing before noon, give your mom time to read and relax. The deer have been active around dusk the
past few nights, so we need to hit the prairie then."
"Think we'll bag a
big one?" Drake asked.
"Maybe. You going to help me clean it?"
"The real question
is if Chad will stop being a sissy and help us."
Chad stuck his tongue out
at his older brother.
He took no pleasure in
hurting animals. The gore was gross
enough without the sadness surrounding their deaths. Colorful fish pulled from the water dulled after
dying on the dock; brilliant blues, greens, and yellows faded into gray as their
gills stopped pulsating. And deer—the
spark vanishing from their soulful eyes broke his heart. Chad had never seen a dead human, but he
suspected the same thing happened when a person's spirit left their body.
"He'll help us when
he's ready." Dad wrapped an arm
around Chad. "No rush."
His father's assurance
didn't quell Chad's embarrassment. He
liked shooting rifles and guns at targets, cans, and bottles. He just couldn't bring himself to hurt
another living creature. Drake didn't
believe that animals had souls, but Chad knew better.
Dad pointed up. "Away from the light pollution in town,
the stars really come out."
"Orion is king of
the sky tonight." Chad loved constellations
and their ancient stories. He regretted
not bringing his telescope along—the new moon allowed the dimmest stars to come
out and play.
"It's just a bunch
of stupid flickering lights," Drake said.
"Balls of burning chemicals hurdling through nothingness. One day, one of them will crash into earth
and wipe everything out. What will you
think of them then?"
"Won't happen in our
lifetimes."
"What makes you so
sure?"
"We'll blow
ourselves up with nuclear missiles or poison ourselves with pollutants
first. Mankind is its own worst
enemy."
"Boys, enough. The world's not ending anytime soon. I swear, all those video games and horror
movies are rotting your brains. Aim your thoughts at bigger concepts. Use your energy to change the world instead
of imagining its doom."
The fresh logs had
finally ignited, increasing the flames so that they lit more of the campsite. One of the pine cones crackled in the intense
heat. The wood inside the inferno
reminded Chad of his mother's stories of Hell.
Though Dad and Drake didn't believe in God or the Devil, Chad saw the
beauty of the world and wondered where it began, where the spark of consciousness
originated in all living things.
"George, we have to
go." Mom's panicked voice startled
Chad. Shadows cast from the fire
exaggerated the stress line creasing her brow.
"Get what we need, and grab the boys. We have to get back to town."
Mom flipped on the
lantern on the picnic table and picked up the cooler filled with sodas and
hotdogs, spilling its contents onto the sandy ground. Chad's heart raced as she grabbed the dirt-covered
sodas and shoved them into the cooler.
He'd never seen Mom so scared.
Drake shrugged and
skewered another marshmallow.
Why wasn't he scared,
too?
"Calm down. Honey, what's wrong?" Dad rose and helped her pack up the folding
chairs surrounding the fire.
"I was listening to
the radio in the showers. Something bad
is going on everywhere. People are
attacking each other, and they're closing down the roads. We have to get back home before the highway
patrol shuts the interstate down."
"All right,
boys. Party's over. Break down the tents."
"Screw the tents
George. We have to go now."
Chad shuddered, not from the
cold, but from how loud the forest seemed.
Crickets, wind, and the fire came together in an unholy symphony. An owl hooted in the distance. Tree branches snapped.
The sounds of nature suddenly
had teeth.
As if in a dream, Chad followed
Drake to the van. Mom, running, slammed
the door.
"George,
hurry."
Dad stopped her, pulling
her close.
"Christine, for Christ
sake, relax. Let me drive. You're too wound up."
She handed Dad the keys
and jumped into the passenger seat. Dad got
in and turned the ignition, looking back at the boys. "Everybody in? Seat belts."
Chad noticed something
he'd never seen in his father's eyes before.
Fear.
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