Mount Isolation
The cold mountain air rushed into the log lean-to. Ted snored quietly, stretched out in his North Face sleeping bag, while Dave lay on the opposite end of the shelter staring at the ceiling. Despite being exhausted from the fifteen-mile hike, nature was calling and he couldn’t ignore it any longer.
He slowly pulled his sleeping bag zipper down. Despite his efforts to be quiet, the metal teeth echoed in the lean-to, stirring Ted from his sleep.
“Going to take a leak?” he inquired.
“No… I have to go drop the kids off at the lake,” Dave answered with a laugh as he put on his headlamp and made his way outside.
The long hike up the Isolation Trail had both hikers exhausted. The trail ran up the north side of Mount Isolation, in northern New Hampshire. It was a hard trail to hike and an even harder trail to find. They hadn’t seen another soul since they left the small overgrown parking lot earlier that morning.
Ted dosed on and off for the next twenty minutes. His aching legs weren’t allowing him to return to a full sleep. Glancing down at his watch he realized how long it had been since Dave left the shelter. Giving his eyes a rub, he decided he had to go have a look.
The cold air greeted his bare chest as he exited the warmth of the bag. Slipping on his fleece jacket, boots, and headlamp, Ted made his way out of the open lean-to, into the pitch-black forest. He had heard Dave walk to the right of the shelter when he left to take care of business, so that’s the direction he headed.
The halogen beam from his headlamp hardly penetrated the thick blanket of branches that hung heavy from the trees.
“Dave!” Ted called out as he began his search.
He assumed Dave had simply lost his bearings and couldn’t find his way back through the dark maze of trees.
“Hey, dumbass!” he called again.
Once again, there was no response.
Finally, he noticed something faintly glowing through the trees up ahead.
Slowly he walked toward the light. It came from behind a large maple tree, split by lightning during one of the many summer thunderstorms. As he rounded the tree he froze. Resting in the split of the tree was Dave’s bodiless head. Strings of flesh hung from the neck. The top of the skull had been caved in, making a home for his halogen headlamp, which illuminated his orifices like a makeshift jack-o-lantern.
Regaining control of his legs, Ted ran hysterically back to the shelter, urine dripping down his leg. He thought about running straight down the trail and not stopping until he arrived at the car, but he soon realized his keys and cell phone were tucked safely in his backpack.
He jumped into the shelter and began frantically searching for the keys. In his altered state of mind he didn’t notice he was not alone in the lean-to. It wasn’t until he turned his head, shining the headlamp beam at the far end of the shelter, that he noticed the deformed child. Pale white and covered with dirt, the child was stocky, about five feet tall. Below his oversized forehead sat two bulging eyes. He had no noticeable ears or nose; a cleft pallet ran up between his swollen pink eyes. In his right hand was a blood-covered stone dripping on the shelter floor.
As the light hit him, the boy charged.
Ted stumbled back. Suddenly he found himself looking up at the grotesque boy, who held the crimson rock high above his head.
“Are you my Daddy?” he asked.
Ted lay silent, unable to talk.
“He said he’d be right back… but that was a long time ago.”
“ARE YOU MY DADDY!” he shouted.
With a wet crack, the rock came crashing down.