The Terror From Beyond the Void

I RUSHED across the sea of dried pine needles and through the trees that split the property. Wes had already emerged from the brush to attend to the scream.

There was a teenage girl on the ground outside of the camper. Her parents hovered over her, trying to help her to her feet.

“Hey! Everything okay?” I called out just as Wes and I got to them at the same time.

“Yeah, I think she’s okay,” her father said, turning to us. The girl looked embarrassed, and I noticed a scrape on her leg.

“I’m fine,” the girl said, firmly, yet clearly embarrassed. “I just slipped when I came out.”

I watched her eyes shoot to Wes multiple times, but then away from him just as quickly. Surely that’s not how she wanted to make her entrance into Timber Acres.

Her father stepped away from his family and extended his hand to mine. “Duke Saunders,” he said with a smile. “This is my wife, Natalie, and my clumsy daughter, Hadley.”

Hadley’s scoff indicated that she didn’t appreciate her dad’s playful jab.

“Ben Nolan,” I said, shaking Duke’s firm grip back. “This is my son Wes. My other son, Kevin and my wife Macie are back on the property.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Ben,” Duke said, releasing my hand. He was more burly than I was for sure, but he seemed to give off that classic ‘big teddy bear’ trope.

“Hello, Ben,” Natalie said, standing by her daughter. I nodded and said hello back. Hadley gave nothing more than just a head nod and a half-smile; her eye contact was still elusive.

“How long have you guys been up here?” Natalie asked. “This place is beautiful.”

“Three days,” I said. “We leave in another four.”

“Well, maybe we’ll get to share a beer or two over the next four days, Ben,” Duke said.

“Why not three?” I joked. Everyone, except for Hadley, chuckled.

“I’ll get in on that,” Wes said. I put my hand up to shut his nonsense down.

“We’ll let you get settled in,” I said. “Let us know if you need anything. We have some Bactine if you need it for your leg, Hadley.”

“I’m fine, thanks,” she said quickly.

After the goodbyes, Wes and I departed back to our side of the trees.

“Was that enough reconnaissance for you?” I asked Wes, patting him on the back. He just laughed.

—

That night, we made good use out of the fire pit. Settled between the camper and cabin, the fire illuminated the darkness. It crackled and spit embers that gently floated away in every possible direction. The constant drone of the crickets and bugs that infested the wilderness was like white noise to my ears. It was relaxing, hypnotizing. I could have fallen asleep if I didn’t have a hot dog cooking on the end of a metal skewer.

I watched the collagen casing on the hot dog brown and bubble to perfection, and then pulled it out of the flames and trapped it inside of a bun.

Macie, Wes and Kevin were all doing the same, each of their hot dogs in various stages of brown to burnt. Hot dogs on an open fire were something we all could agree on, thankfully. Something about it was so American, so comforting. The perfect camping food; I’d love for someone to challenge that statement.

I watched Macie lean to the side and try to peer through the trees to where the Saunders’ cabin was. It was dark on their side of the property.

“I wonder what they’re up to?” she said. “Surely they must see our fire. You’d think they would come over and say hi to the rest of us.”

“Well, you weren’t the ones who saved that girl,” Wes said, taking a large bite of his hot dog right off the skewer.

“Please,” Kevin chimed in, “all you did was rush over there like a panting dog. You didn’t do anything. I saw you from our camper’s window.”

“That’s more than you did,” Wes snapped.

“I was busy.”

Wes scoffed.

“Maybe they just want their privacy,” I said. “They just got here. I’m sure we’ll catch them in the morning at some point.”

“But why is it so dark?” Macie insisted on keeping her speculation going.

“Some people sleep in the dark, Mom,” Wes said. “Most people, actually. All of them, I believe.”

“Ha-ha,” Macie mocked.

Kevin’s phone lit up on his lap, drawing all of our attention to it. He tried to cover it quickly, looking directly at Macie. She shook her head.

“You just can’t help yourself,” she said.

“I’m not in charge of when I get notifications!” Kevin snapped, louder than I would have liked him to. I tried to hush him down, but it was going to be useless. He stood up. “You know what Mom, if you don’t want me to be happy and enjoy what I love, that’s fine. But, please, don’t make me out to be the inconsiderate one here.”

Kevin sat his still smoking hot dog on the chair and retreated to the camper. He slammed the door shut behind him. I just looked at Macie, a little disappointed in her. It was almost like she was waiting, stalking every moment, for the time to strike him down. She didn’t waste a single second.

Wes remained silent across from me, eating his hot dog and taking a sip from his water bottle. Macie wouldn’t look at me; she knew she acted out of turn.

—

I opened the door to the camper and walked in. Kevin was sitting on the bed with his laptop open and his phone in his hand. He looked up, somehow startled by me coming in. When he realized it was me, he eased back up.

“Did Mom send you in here?” he asked.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. I looked around the interior of the camper that the boys had been held up in for the past three days. It looked just like I imagined it would; just like it would if I was a seventeen year old again. Clothes were piled up, candy wrappers strewn across the surfaces, an open bag of chips on Wes’ bed—I didn’t really think twice about any of it.

Above Kevin was a string of white Christmas lights that were glowing.

“Tis the season,” I said with a half-chuckle.

Kevin rolled his eyes. “It makes it feel like my office at home.”

“Your office? Your bedroom?”

“It’s my office,” he firmly reiterated. “Streaming is a job these days, Dad. I know you get that. I just don’t see why Mom doesn’t.”

“She’s a little old fashioned, I guess. She didn’t play games like you do, like I did.” I sat down on the bed with him and continued. “I played Metal Gear Solid, Jet Force Gemini, Goldeneye …you name it. I faked illness in school just to stay home and play Goldeneye. I would have killed for that to be a job back when I was younger. It’d have been the dream job for me and most of my friends. Now, times have changed and technology rules more than it ever has. You’re in a position to capitalize on that. Gaming, streaming — it is a job. And you seem to be doing extremely well. I’ve seen your bank balance, Kev. You could have moved out months ago and been alright.”

Kevin nodded with what I took as appreciation. “Why’s Mom gotta be like that?” he laughed.

“Have you seen her play a game? She’s a button masher.”

We shared another laugh, which was interrupted by the string of Christmas lights flickering. His laptop screen went black, and his phone shut off. The camper fell into darkness, the only light was the glow from the fire outside, coming through the recreational vehicles’ small porthole windows.

I looked around, hearing a soft buzzing noise. It sounded similar to a bug buzzing right up against my ear, but it was more of a static-infused charge.

Then it stopped.

Silence.

“Must be the generator,” I said.

Kevin tapped the keys on the laptop furiously; he seemed to be on the edge of panicking. I stood up from the bed and peered out one of the small windows. I could see the firepit. Macie was on her feet, Wes remained seated. I glanced up at the cabin where we had left the lights on inside, but now the cabin sat in darkness.

“I’ll be right back,” I said to Kevin. I could hear him still tapping the keys aggressively as I opened the door and stepped back outside into the warm night.

“What’s wrong?” Macie called out, her voice echoing through the woods.

“Generator must have blown,” I said, walking past the two of them and toward the cabin. The generator was around back, so I used the glow of the fire as long as I could to get back there. But that’s where my vision became compromised. I pulled my phone out to use the flashlight the rest of the way, but it was off. I knew the battery hadn’t died, it was completely charged, but for some reason, it sat cold and dead in my hand.

The generator would have affected the electricity. The string of lights in the camper, the bulbs in the cabin—not the phones and wireless laptop. I stood there behind the cabin, in the dark, confused as to why everything had shut off. It didn’t make any sense.

I felt my way to the generator, but without a light, I couldn’t see what I was doing. I gave up and returned to the firepit where Kevin had rejoined the family.

“Can you fix it?” Macie asked, hopeful.

“I can’t even see it,” I said. “It might have to wait until morning.”

Wes tapped his phone, but it too was dead. I had Macie pull her phone out for good measure, but I already knew it wouldn’t work.

“What’s going on?” Wes asked.

I had no idea. I didn’t know what to say. “Maybe some kind of radio waves, or something interfering with the electronics?

No one responded to my theory. It probably didn’t make much sense, but I didn’t have a clue otherwise.

“What about the neighbors? The Saunders’?” Macie asked next.

Looking through the trees, I could see nothing but blackness. The glow from our fire only extended so far.

“They’ve been living in the stone age anyway,” Wes said. “They probably have no idea their power’s out if they don’t use it to begin with.

“Maybe I should go check on them,” I said.

“No,” Macie said, grabbing my sleeve. “It’s too dark. There are animals out there—black widows, remember?”

She was right. I didn’t want to get bit by one of those things. Or a snake. Or a bear. Or whatever else was lurking around these woods; the wilderness could eat you alive if it had the opportunity.

“Maybe everything will be back on in the morning,” I said. “I’ll check on them then.”

Using the fire to see our way back into the cabin and camper respectively, we retired to bed. I left the bedroom window open, allowing the fading glow to comfort us until it fizzled out into a rising stream of white smoke.