PROLOGUE
“Is this going to take much longer?” Sophie Guiterrez asked, breaking the silence permeating the dense forest. It amazed her that such a primal wilderness could exist here, barely an hour’s drive from Atlantic City. There, crowds gathered upon the boardwalks and traffic snarled the streets. Desolate was the last word anyone would use to describe it. Yet, despite its close proximity, Sophie felt as if she was on a different planet altogether. She wondered if her husband, John, felt the same way, but decided against asking anything that didn’t have to do with them getting back on the road.
“I just have to take a few more samples,” John called over his shoulder. He was kneeling next to a small creek, gathering water into a container. Once done, he would seal it, mark it, and then place it with the half dozen or so other samples he’d already collected.
Grunting unhappily to herself, Sophie found a stump to sit down on. She knew her husband was passionate about his job, but that passion was supposed to be focused on her this weekend. A suite at the Borgata awaited them, as well as three days away from both their jobs. It was their first real vacation since getting married nearly a year ago. At the time, money had been tight, so they’d forgone a proper honeymoon. Fortunately, their finances had improved in recent months. Atlantic City might not have been an exotic getaway, but the accommodations were more than adequate.
Not like we plan on going out much anyway.
For the past few months, she and John had been trying to conceive. So far, their efforts had been unsuccessful. He claimed it was probably just stress from their jobs – he an employee for the New Jersey Agency for Environmental Protection, NJAEP for short, she an elementary school teacher in Jackson Township. She couldn’t entirely disagree. He worked endless hours, while she had a long commute and unruly students on the best of days.
Still, it had begun to worry her nevertheless. They both wanted children. There was no disagreement on that subject. In the back of her mind, though, Sophie was starting to wonder if they should consider other options. They hadn’t discussed it much, but fertility problems ran in her family. Her mother had gone through menopause early in life and her sister, Julia, had undergone a hysterectomy a few years back due to complications with ovarian cysts.
Sophie took a deep breath and tried to think of other things. Now was not the time for those concerns. She was determined to have some fun this weekend. Besides, maybe John had a point. If the mood was right and there was no stress to worry about, who was to say they might not return home a threesome in the making? That was a thought worth hanging onto.
Of course, they could have already gotten started had he simply told his superiors no like she had asked. He was originally scheduled for a half day so they could beat the weekend traffic down to the shore. But then he’d gone and agreed to this last minute field trip.
♦ ♦ ♦
“It's not gonna take me long,” he’d told her the night prior. “And it's on the way. By the time I'm finished, we'll already be most of the way there.”
“I don't understand why they need to send you to begin with. You're not a field tech.”
“I already told you, Charlie's out sick and nobody else is available.”
He had then gone on to explain, much to her chagrin, why this couldn't wait. The sensor readings being shared in his office had crossed the minimum safe thresholds by a wide margin. An investigation was needed to ensure there wasn't a potential environmental situation in the making. That's how he always phrased it – a situation. His bosses at the NJAEP heavily frowned upon any use of the word disaster. The last thing they wanted was someone slipping up in a conversation, especially since most people were only a button push from Facebook these days.
Every year, reports came in from local hikers and fishermen regarding mutations – three-eyed fish or frogs with no legs. Generally speaking, this happened in any ecosystem from time to time. However, certain thresholds were maintained depending on the location. These data points were especially important for sanctuaries and protected areas. According to John, the threshold for toxins in this section of the reserve had been exceeded by a substantial margin as of late. The higher-ups wanted everything retested ASAP, before anything leaked to the local press.
“Afraid they’ll start running stories about monsters in the Pine Barrens?” she’d joked.
John hadn’t laughed. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. Most people couldn’t care less when it comes to ecological impact. But if the papers start talking about Bigfoot or the Jersey Devil, we’ll have every yahoo in the tri-state area converging on this place. Then, if it turns out there actually is a problem with the water or soil, we’ll find ourselves knee deep in a PR situation.”
Sophie had cringed at his use of situation – his own personal S word – again. Such politically correct nonsense. She’d grown to despise it as their relationship had progressed. That ended the conversation for her, and she immediately changed the subject before it devolved into an argument.
Her curiosity had been piqued, though.
On the ride over, she found herself bringing it up again. By then, she had no choice but to come along, so she figured a little enthusiasm might put her husband in a good mood for the weekend ahead.
“What do you think is causing the problem?”
“Who can say?” he’d replied from his spot behind the wheel. “Could be illegal dumping, or it might be something leaking from one of the old mills.”
“Old mills?”
“Yeah. It's all protected area now, but there used to be all sorts of efforts to develop this land. Lumber, paper mills – hell, there was even a moderately successful bog iron industry in the Barrens back in the day.”
“Back in the day?” she’d asked, giving him her first grin of the morning. He was only twenty-five.
“Well, maybe a little further back. We're talking birth of a nation here. Industrial Revolution and all that.”
“How could something so old affect anything?”
John had smiled back, seemingly encouraged by her show of support. “All those places closed up shop a long time ago, but a lot of the old buildings are still around, albeit they're all husks now, long taken back by the forest.”
“How is that dangerous?”
“You have to realize this was before much thought was given to the environment. Back when they were still in operation, these mills produced tons of toxins, most of which were dumped wherever it was convenient.”
“And?”
“And these guys weren't exactly big on cleaning up after themselves when they shut down. It was cheaper to just lock the doors and walk away. Over time, machinery rusts, storage tanks rot, you know the deal. When that happens where people live, we have a major cleanup on our hands. Out here, though...”
“Let me guess,” she had replied, looking out the window of the state-owned SUV they were conveniently borrowing for the weekend. “Out here it’s a massive pain in the ass.”
“Exactly. Finding the source of the spill is hard enough. Getting a cleanup operation running, well, that's a whole other level of fun right there.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Upon their arrival, John offered to let her wait in the car while he collected samples. Sophie had refused. She knew he had a tendency to get lost in his work. Although she wasn't particularly fond of spending an afternoon in some godforsaken wilderness, she figured that continually reminding him of her presence could mean the difference of a few hours.
Now she was beginning to regret her decision. Though the temperature was cool, the effort of hiking through the woods had left her sweaty, dirty, and feeling a little gross. Forget about the casino – the first order of business upon arriving at the hotel was going to be a nice, long shower. The possibility that she wouldn't be taking it alone was small comfort to her at the moment. “I'm bored.”
“I don't see how,” he replied cheerfully. “Isn't this place great? Makes me wish I got out of the office more often.”
Sophie ignored him as she stood and stretched. She felt wetness on her behind, reached back, and discovered that the seat of her pants was now sticky.
Just great! These are brand new jeans. Hopefully it was only morning dew or sap from the stump. The possibility that she may have accidentally sat in something else threatened to darken her mood further.
She was just about to complain again when she heard a chuffing noise from a few yards off. Thinking nothing of it, she said, “Bless you.”
“For what?” John called back from where he was still organizing his pack.
“Didn’t you sneeze?”
“Wasn't me. You probably just heard a bir...” The sound came again, catching his attention this time.
“What was that?” she asked. Whatever it was, it had originated from somewhere close by, the source hidden by the thick growth surrounding them. There was a heavy wheezing quality to it. One of Sophie's childhood playmates had been asthmatic. This didn’t sound entirely unlike her friend whilst in the grip of an attack. “Is someone there?” she called out, scanning the brush.
John chuckled in response. “You spook easily.”
“That didn't sound like a person to you?”
“There's a lot of wildlife around us.”
“A bear maybe?” she asked, a note of concern in her voice.
John didn’t appear perturbed in the least. “Doubt it. Even if there is one in the area, it'll just be a black bear. They won't bother us.”
“Are you s...?”
Before Sophie could finish the question, something launched itself from the brush near John. Whatever it was, it was large and quick. It tackled her husband before he even knew what hit him. Together they went down in a tangle of arms and legs.
Heavy snarls replaced the chuffing, but those were quickly drowned out by the sound of John's screams.
Sophie stepped forward on instinct alone, but before she could reach her downed husband, his cries became a thick gurgle. There came the sound of something wet being torn and then a warm liquid splashed across her face.
In the space of an instant, she came to two realizations: she’d just been sprayed with her husband’s blood, and the thing tearing into John was like nothing she had ever seen.
Her mind had just enough time to register the thick bumpy hide across its back, almost like a snake’s scales. Then her nerve broke. Without another thought, Sophie turned and fled through the forest.
A bellowing cry followed her, almost human sounding, but that must have been her imagination. Whatever was out there wasn't human, not even close. Then another thought hit her, one that caused her to slow down ever so slightly. What if it had come from John? What if he was still alive, screaming out for her help ... help that wasn't coming?
Tears obscured her vision, but still she ran. Whatever it was that had attacked him, she knew in her heart that she would be ineffective against it. It had been larger than her husband and obviously far more powerful. Her panicked mind assured her there was nothing she could have done to help him. Disgust and sorrow welled up in her simultaneously. It threatened to drive her to her knees, but still she kept moving. The fear was too strong to let her stop. She tried to rationalize it by telling herself that if she could make it back to the car, she could find help, she could...
Sophie realized too late she had no idea if she was even fleeing in the right direction. For all she knew, she was racing deeper into the seemingly endless forest surrounding her. Suddenly, she was certain she’d been right earlier. Atlantic City was a world away, a world that she and her husband would never see again.
She tried to push that thought away and concentrate on running. The direction didn’t even really matter. Getting hopelessly lost was better than standing there. Better than letting that thing catch her.
Her mind was still aflutter when she spied a break in the trees ahead. She ran into a small clearing and cried out in relief. There was someone standing near the far edge, facing away from her. She had made the right choice after all. There was still a chance. If he was armed or had friends nearby, maybe they could still save John.
“Please!” she cried out, racing forward. “Please! I need help. My husband...”
The figure turned to face her and she slid to a halt, the words dying in her throat.
Sophie thought she had found another person.
She was wrong.
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