The NoSleep Podcast - NoSleep Podcast - Holiday Hiatus New Year's Eve

Episode Date: December 31, 2017

Happy New Year! The show is taking a holiday break this week but we're featuring a classic tale from Season 8. "The Things We See in the Woods" written by C.K. Walker and performed by Jessica McEvoy & Peter Lewis & Mike DelGaudio & Jeff Clement & Nichole Goodnight. (Story starts around 00:03:00) Click here to learn more about the voice actors on The NoSleep Podcast   Click here to learn more about the Escape the Black Farm Tour   Click here to learn more about C.K. Walker   Executive Producer & Host: David Cummings Musical score composed by: Brandon Boone Audio adaptation produced by: Phil Michalski Holiday Hiatus illustration courtesy of Krista Neubert Auld Lang Syne karaoke track by TheKARAOKEChannel Audio program ©2017 - Creative Reason Media Inc. - All Rights Reserved - No reproduction or use of this content is permitted without the express written consent of Creative Reason Media Inc. The copyrights for each story are held by the respective authors.   Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Hey, happy New Year's Eve. It's the No Sleep podcast, and I'm David Cummings, hosting our New Year's Eve party here at the No Sleep campus. Thanks for joining us for our holiday hiatus New Year's Eve episode. We have a classic tale from season past eight to tide you over while we make merry and ring in 2018. And as all manner of libations flow from the glasses of the party goers. Let's see if I can wrangle the gang together so we can all sing old langzine for you to make the night complete. Okay, everybody, come on, you lot, gather around,

signal the band, and let's rock out with our clocks out as we watch for the countdown. Okay, everybody ready? Here we go. Let's sing. Well, from all of us here at the No Sleep podcast, we wish you and yours a very happy and healthy new year. And, now it's time for the New Year's Eve story. For this tale, we leave the party and venture into the forest. But as we learn from author C.K. Walker, this time we don't fear encountering ghosts, for it's the spirits of two departed people who take us on this journey. It turns out that the ghosts in the forest also have things to fear. Performing this tale are Jessica McAvoy, Peter Lewis, Mike Delgado, and Nicole Goodnight.

So you can fear the dark and foreboding trails and trees, but you're not alone in being afraid of the things we see in the woods. I've been dead for decades. It took me years to realize it, though. And I didn't really accept it until I'd found my way out of the woods and realized that I couldn't step out onto the road. It was almost like coming up. against a glass wall.

I knew then that something was binding me to the miles and miles of trees and mountains. I didn't meet Jeremy until the 1990s, I think. At least, that's what he told me. There's no real reference for time out here. Jeremy was older than me by a few years and took far less time in accepting what had happened to him. He told me the story of his death, the first night I met him, as we sat around a sad, pale campfire that provided only light and no heat. There is no warmth for the dead.

Jeremy told me that he had gone hiking with his girlfriend one weekend, planning to propose to her on a mountaintop. He said he had hoped to salvage their heated but struggling relationship. Unfortunately for Jeremy, his girlfriend had a nasty temper, and during an argument on said mountaintop, she pushed him over the side of a cliff in a rage. Jeremy told me that he would never know if she meant to kill him, or even if she knew how far down the ground had been behind him.

He had watched her wail on her knees as the rescue crews pulled his mangled body from the gorge. She was very upset that her beloved boyfriend had slipped and fallen to his death, and so soon after giving her such an expensive diamond ring. As anticlimactic as Jeremy's short life had been, he was still upbeat most days and great company after I had been alone for so long. My favorite way to fall asleep at night was listening to Jeremy's stories from a world, old after 1983, the year that I had departed it. We didn't need sleep, of course, but it was an effective way to pass time. And there was so very much of that. Jeremy and I both still had the

packs we had dyed wearing. Our gear never rusted, and our clothes never seemed to show any signs of where. It was as if we were frozen in time, but it continued to move all around us. We saw people, occasionally, real living people. I used to come into their camps and scream at them to pay attention to me, to hear me, but now that I wasn't alone all the time, I preferred to just observe them. Campers were my favorite thing to find. They would talk about what was going on in the real world, outside of the forest, where they would tell ghost stories. My favorite ghost stories they told were the ones about us.

Apparently, everyone knew these woods were haunted, and sometimes, if you were lucky enough, you could see a spirit fire. They said that if you followed the light and found the fire, you would see no one and nothing else around it. And this was how Jeremy and I realized that we could interact with the outside world in certain ways, the fires being the most effective. The other ways, such as breaking sticks and moving their stuff at night, which didn't always work, tended to scare people.

We never met any other dead people in all the years we had spent in the woods, but we were both just happy to have each other. It was early spring when we first noticed that something had entered the woods. We spent the winter walking along the entire perimeter of the forest, trying again to find a way out. Winter was the worst for us because there were no hikers, no campers, and no animals. It was just us, all alone in the silence. and the cold with our dismal fires that never stayed lit and our sad makeshift Christmas.

So we were both happy that spring was finally here. Jeremy had tolerated my desperate search for a way out of the woods for yet another year. He loved the forest. And more importantly, campers would be arriving any day. We're almost back to burn rock. Jeremy tossed more pine needles on our evening fire. I know. Lindsay, this is the 12th winter that we've done this.

I really don't mind, and I hate to bring this up again, but maybe we should consider. That there is no way out of the woods for us? He gave me a sympathetic yet pitying smile. I hated that sort of. smile. Jeremy had accepted his super unfair death and the afterlife without missing a step. Well, I never could quite let it all go. I had been dead longer than he had, so it really wasn't there. This is such bullshit. What do you think it's like for dead people in the city? Did they get to go clubbing? Get drunk? Hang out with each other? Sleep in warm beds? I can't imagine that they get to do

any of those things. And why not? Lins, we light fires. We try to eat. Sometimes. Hell, we've even tried drinking leftover whiskey we found at a campsite. Do you ever feel any less cold or hungry or sober than you were when you died? I pouted.

No? We're just... I don't know. We just have to make the best of it. Forever, Jeremy. Are we going to be out here forever? He shrugged. Maybe.

But it won't be like this for forever. Think about it, Linz. In all likelihood, more people will die out here eventually, which means more company. The city will expand. The government will sell this land to the highest bidding developer, and eventually you'll get your wish, and we'll be back in the city.

Maybe. I made swirling lines in the dirt with a stick that I had found in like a hundred years. We just have to entertain ourselves until then. Doing what? We've explored every inch of these woods. It's all the same, over and over and over again. We haven't been in Window Canyon. No. Lindsay? No. I just... I don't understand.

Of course you don't. It's different for you. Jeremy sighed, and then sat down and leaned against his pack. I'm sorry, Linz. You know what might chair you up? Let's go down to Red Leaf Road. That's where the campers usually come in this time of year, and we could follow some, if you want. I smiled as I watched the fire lick at the top of my stick. That could be fun. I like it when they leave marshmallows.

I mean, they taste like nothing, but it's still fun to roast them. At a girl. Jeremy laughed and patted my head with a smirk. And hey, maybe someone will even bring their dog. Oh, God, I hope so. I love dogs. Not only that, but dogs could see us, and the friendly ones even played with us.

Do you remember a winter? Our fire went out. It was nothing that could be explained, even by dead people standards. One minute, it was tall and healthy, and in the next, it was only smoke and embers. What the? How did? Jeremy had shot to his feet. There was starlight, but no moon that night, so it was hard to see him when he was.

moved. Jeremy. I whispered, for no other reason than the moment seemed like a quiet one. Where are you? Hang on. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, the shadows being cast by the starlight began to bleed into my vision. Jeremy was on the other side of our camp, watching something in the distance. Whatever he was looking at must have been moving towards us, because, every few seconds he would take a step back. I saw it too. A shadow that moved between the trees. Slow and steady and confident. It moved like a floating ghost. Jeremy. I pulled him back down to the ground to sit beside me. He wrapped his arms around me and placed his hand over my mouth. The thing that had entered the woods brought with it an absolute

silence as it passed. No wind, no rustling trees, no birds, no crickets, no crackling fire. It passed on our right, walking through the edge of our camp. With my eyes well adjusted now, I noticed that all we could see was its shadow. It walked on long legs and its head skimmed the highest branches of the trees around us. It did not pause or slow down. After it had gone, taking the dead silence with it, Jeremy removed his hand and stood up to relight the fire. What was that thing?

He pulled out the matchbook that always seemed to have matches, no matter how many times we tore them away. I don't know. As the fire sparked up, and the light reached his face. I could see the fear and worry etched upon it. Have you ever seen anything like that before? No, I've never seen anything like that.

And humans aren't that tall. That was something else. Is it dangerous, do you think? Jeremy sat down and propped one elbow on his knee as he chewed on a match between his lips. No, no way. It didn't even look at us. Probably didn't notice us. What is it? What does it want? No idea.

He looked at me and shook his head. It didn't feel particularly... Not evil? Jeremy laughed and then looked back behind his shoulder where the shadow had gone. It was definitely something negative and... wrong about it. Yeah, but not unnatural, you know? It seems like it almost belonged out here.

Yeah, that's what worries me. Days later, we had made it back to Redleaf Road. We hadn't talked about the shadow since the night it had walked through our camp. Even though I was already dead, that thing had instilled in me a primitive, innate terror that had halt. haunted what passed for thin dreams in the post-life state. Jeremy was the first to see the hikers, and I clapped my hands in joy when he yelled back to me

that a group was unloading their car in the parking lot. When I caught up to him, Jeremy was leaning against a tree and smiling. We watched the group settle their packs and make last-minute map corrections. Oh my God, oh my God! I love this time of year. Did you catch their names? Or how long they're going to be out? Or where they're going? Not yet.

I've been watching the kids. He pointed out two little boys playing next to a red jeep. My excitement at seeing them soured almost immediately when I realized how old they were. Some kids, usually under five years old, can see and talk to us. These kids both must have been more like nine since they were carrying packs of their own. Any dogs?

Sorry. Jeremy pulled me over to drape an arm around my shoulder. The adult had a map spread out on the hood of a car, and were arguing with each other and pointing to different points on the map. I hope they got a Christmas lake. I love Christmas Lake. But as the campers argued, two words kept striking out into the cold morning air.

like lightning. Window, canyon. Hearing them say it was like taking a bullet. Please no. Please no. But by the time they had packed the map away, I knew they had decided that was exactly where they were going. Jeremy sighed. We can just follow them until... No. No. No. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry You can go with them if you want, Jeremy I'll just wait here and...

Oh, Lindsay, come on, we've been hanging out for decades. When have I ever left you? We camped right there on the road that night and for four nights after that before another group showed up. But these were not campers. They were cops.

Jeremy and I watched as they immediately roadblocked the parking lot and began photographing the cars that the Window Canyon Group had arrived in. What's... What's going on? I don't know. I think something happened to that group of hikers. It wasn't long before we got our answer.

From what we could piece together from the conversation we could overhear between the cops and search and rescue, the hikers camp, tents, packs, food, had been found a band. abandoned when search and rescue went looking for them. There was no sign of the group, and search and rescue told police that they could keep their helicopters in the air for about a week to aid in the search. We can help. How? We can look for them. They might be in our world now, some of them.

I swallowed. It was bittersweet, wasn't it? More company for us. But people had died just the same. Where do we go? I saw the trail they took. If they went the route I would have taken, I can find their camp. If not, well, we just follow the rescue teams.

I nodded. It took us only two days to find their campsite. They hadn't gotten far, nine miles maybe. Most people with kids take it slower. The camp was occupied by two search and rescue officers. They stood against a tree, talking and strategizing. The search and rescue helicopters tore loudly across the sky above us. I hadn't seen them since Jeremy's death.

We made a base camp that night, near the Window Canyon Group's campsite. We let no fires, only observed and waited. Surely the dead would come back to their camp. It would be the only thing they could think to do. do, but we saw no one. We stayed at the camp a few days, watching the search and waiting, but soon hope soured, and the rescue mission became a recovery mission. We ventured out from the camp then, hoping to find the dead. We looked long after search and rescue had left, and the campsite had been cleared. Where are they? We lit our first fire. We lit our first fire.

in days. We were still close to the missing hikers camp, and we hoped they would see our fire, dead or alive. I don't get it. If search and rescue couldn't find them, that means we should have been able to, but they're just gone. Unless? Unless they're in Window Canyon. Maybe you could go in tomorrow and see. I won't leave you here alone. His tone left no room for argument, but I made some anyway. Oh, come on. What's going to happen to me, Jeremy?

I'm already dead. Nervously, he looked up at me and smirked. All right, fine. I will go in at first light on a day hike. I'm not leaving you alone at night. Remember, Lins, that... thing, it could still be out here. I shivered, even though I was always cold.

I won't argue with that. Jeremy left at dawn and was back before twilight, as promised. There was something different about him when he returned. He was more alive, stupid as it sounds, more animated and excitable. I knew that Jeremy had always loved. loved hiking and exploring. Taking Window Canyon away from him had been a dick move on my part.

But there was just no way I could go into the canyon. There's no one down there. He fell down beside the sad little fire I had made. Jeremy was always better at making them. Well, what the hell? Where else could they have gone? He shook his head. I don't know, but I have a bad feeling that that thing had something to do with this.

Okay, so say it did. Say it killed them. Why can't we find them? I don't know. Those poor little boys. Jeremy gathered more sticks for my pathetic fire. You'd think I would be better at building them, seeing as how we'd built about 7,000. of them over the years. At least they're with their parents, wherever they are. My brother was about that age the last time I saw him.

Jeremy's ears must have perked up because he dropped the bundle of wood he was holding. Your brother? I never talked about my family. And Jeremy knew damn well why. He was a cute kid. His name was Ben. Jeremy smiled.

and picked up his sticks. He threw them over my shitty kindling pile and relit the sad little pyre with the never-ending book of matches. You know you can tell me anything, Lindsay. I know. But you don't have to. To ease the moment,

Jeremy began talking about his brothers and their antics as kids, which apparently annoyed their mother to no end. Even though I had heard the story, a million times before, I found my laughter echoing through the empty woods all the same. It happened too fast, and only a breath, just like the first time. But this time, Jeremy seemed more prepared, almost expectative. The fire went out, and in the same moment Jeremy was beside me,

holding me still and pressing his lips to my ear. I could see it in the distance. The thing walking towards us through the trees, casting a tall shadow upon the trunks and branches. It seemed to move slower than the last time, and the silence that accompanied it lasted longer. When it reached our camp, it stopped at the edge. I squeezed Jeremy's arm as hard as I could without making a sound as he breathed into my ear. He hadn't planned on it. The shadow was dangerous, even to us.

I could feel it. It started moving again, walking around the embers of our fire. It stopped every few seconds, as if tasting the air before moving on. When it had walked all the way around the fire, it paused, and I knew in that second that it was looking at us. And then suddenly, it was walking again. Out of our camp and back into the woods toward Window Canyon. Jeremy kissed the top of my head and then let me go.

I turned to him, panicked and wide-eyed. Jeremy. I know, just breathe. It looked at us. Did you feel that? Yes. What was it doing? I think it was hunting.

For what? I threw my arms up and shed me. shot out of Jeremy's grasp to pace the camp while he rebuilt the fire for the third time. I could tell you my guess, but you wouldn't like it, Lenz. Humans? People? Jeremy nodded without looking at me. But we're not people. We're dead. We're just... I always hesitated to use the G word because it sounded so stupid.

Ghosts? Yes. That's why it looked at us like we were left over bones in a stewpot. Holy shit! My thoughts exactly. I awoke the next morning to the whirling roar of a nearby helicopter. I hated the sound. It always meant bad things out here, but it was even less welcome now.

Jeremy was already awake, standing next to the pile of ash that was our fire. fire. He had his hands behind his back and was looking up at the sky with concern. Did they resume the search? Yeah, this is the third one since dawn. I think they're looking for missing hikers. Are missing hikers? Jeremy offered me a hand to stand up. Actually, I think there are new missing hikers. The helicopters seem to be circling an area known as Mill Motor. caverns. The caves were apparently very beautiful, though I'd never gone down there myself. I didn't like going underground anymore. It reminded me too much of being buried. Jeremy usually did the cave system about once a year on day hikes while we camped at the entrance.

Oh shit. Jeremy gave me a worried look. Should we go over there? See what we can learn? See if we can help? He nodded. Although, I don't know how much help will be. If they died... Lindsay, that thing last night. It came from that direction. It was obviously over by the caverns at some point in the last few days.

So you think... I mean, you don't think... I don't think. We'll find them. But we have to try, don't we? The campsite... looked exactly like the one outside of Window Canyon. It was abandoned, as if fled abruptly. There were tents, packs, even food that had clearly been cooking over a fire left behind.

I didn't even know there were other people in the woods. We were too busy looking for the Window Canyon group. Jeremy shook his head. Fuck, this can't go on. This time search and rescue looked longer and harder than they had for the Window Canyon Group. I could only imagine how badly they needed a win. But there was no sign of the hikers anywhere. Jeremy and I searched for them, shouting all day and making huge fires at night. That's only confused and frustrated the search and rescue teams.

Eventually they gave up and left. We covered miles of. around their campsite in the days after, but the woods were empty except for us and the shadow. At the end of a particularly long day, we dropped our packs on the ground and fell into the dirt, disheartened and defeated. We laid in silence for many long minutes. Jeremy, why do we even wear these packs? We don't need food or clothes or pots and pans. I was desperate to talk about anything other than our failure. Jeremy was still breathing hard.

I wear it for you. I sat up and gave him a searching look. For me? Why? He propped himself up onto his elbows and wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve. Because you're not ready to let them go yet. I raised an eyebrow. at him and then laid back down.

What did that even mean? I need a drink. You and me both. A Zima. Lindsay, this isn't hell. Fine. A martini. I always wanted to try one of those, but I was never old enough.

They looked so fancy. Jeremy laughed. God, what are we going to do? Nothing. There isn't much else we gain. do. People are going to keep coming in here and... No, they won't. Thank God. I overheard search and rescue saying they were closing the forest lands until further notice. Oh, I put my hands behind my head and looked up at the stars. Being from the city myself, this was one view I never tired of.

Hey, Jeremy. Yeah? You know what I realized today? What? I've officially been dead longer than I was alive. I had meant it as a, hey, listen to this funny fact. But as soon as the words were out of my mouth, cold tears were sliding down my stupid face. I tried to hide them, but Jeremy knew me too well. He reached out and grabbed my hand and stroked it with his thumb.

Hey, hey, it's okay. Hey, at least you weren't murdered. I choked out a surprise laugh at that. Jeremy always knew how to make things better, usually at the expense of himself. Look, I'm sure that bitch did time. I smiled as I wiped the tears off my face. Oh yeah, I'm sure, Miss, oh shit, I forgot he was holding the ring. I better climb down and get it before I go find help.

Did lots of time. I sat upright and looked over at him. She did not. She sure did. You never told me that before? I was saving it. Jeremy. Look, I could hardly fault her.

That ring could have paid for a very good defense attorney if she ended up needing one. I wonder what happened to her. Oh, she'd be in her 40s now. Probably married, kids, you know, living the life. Does it ever bother you? Jeremy was silent for a few moments. It used to. But not anymore?

No. Because now I have you. She'll never have anything like you. I smiled back. Should we build a fire tonight? Sure. If nothing else, it's a good phantom warning system. Phantom, huh?

I've been thinking of it as like a shadow creature, man thing. Well, your name is more eloquent. We decided. to build a huge fire because we were both in good spirits and we hope to draw any wandering lost souls that may be out there. I will be fucking pissed if that soulless demon shadow phantom... Creature man thing. Creature man thing puts out this bitch in fire tonight. Now say the whole thing.

Solace black. Nope. Solace demon phantom. Nope. Ugh. Souless, demon, shadow, creature. Nope. Fuck you.

Then you do it. Souless demon shadow phantom creature, man. You forgot thing. Damn it. Suddenly, we heard voices. They were near our camp and yelling. Hurry up. Don't get too close.

Shut the fuck up, Jeff. They were on us before we even realized where they were coming from. Three people suddenly emerged from the woods, two guys and one girl. They all looked to be in their 20s and possibly very drunk. Jeremy and I were already standing, backing away from them even though we knew they couldn't see us. Holy shit, look. No fucking gear, no equipment? Spirit fire!

Oh, no. No, no spirit fire. Do we put it out? Or let it burn? I ran at him, but Jeremy caught me around the waist before I got very far. You put out my fire, kid? And I will throw you into the canyon. Relax. No, you don't put it out, you bush. It's magical. She sank down next to it and stared, starry-eyed and drunk.

Please tell me these aren't missing hikers, Jeremy. I think not. We can fix that. I mumbled as one of the guys in the group started shoveling dirt onto our fire. Stupid ghosts! You're going to burn the whole fucking forest down. Jeremy narrowed his eyes at him. Jackass.

Like, stop! Why do you always have to be such a twat? I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm just... I'm really drunk. Speaking of, we forgot the booze. Yeah, camp is so far. It's not that far.

Jeremy, why are they out here? I thought you said the woods were closed. They are, but look at them. They're idiots. I robbed my temples. Why headaches were a thing in the afterlife, I would never understand. Ordinarily, I would have been a little more excited about finding people who wanted to interact with us. But there was a wicked sharp knife in my stomach, tearing my insides apart in fear for them.

We have to get them to leave. We can try. I don't know that this group is going to be scared by breaking sticks and misplaced packs. Can't we do more than that? He threw up his hands, exasperated. I can't. Can you? I can do plenty, but I never know what they can see on their end and what is only. on ours. Jeremy sighed in frustration and ran his hands through his hair. Uh, we can start a bunch of

fires, spell a word out, maybe. Oh, Jeremy, that would take forever. Fuck, I know. Let's leave the spirits to their campfire and head back to camp. I've got rum and coke. Well, you've got coke at least. Like, you fucking suck. You drink my rum? Hey, Guys, since we sit around campfires and tell ghost stories, do you think ghosts sit around campfires and tell human stories? Yes. Jeremy and I both said at the same time, the rest of their conversation was lost to the trees as they left back towards their camp. Huh. I figured they were camping down by the gorge or the caverns, but the way they're heading...

They're going into Window Canyon. I buried my head and my hands. Of course they are. Lindsay, I don't know what to do. I don't know how to get them out of the forest without going to their campsite. And even if I did go back into the canyon, I don't know what to do once I get there. But that thing is coming for them. There's no one else in the woods, Jeremy.

There's no one but us. Okay. Okay, just... Just let me think. It's the fire. We have to use the fire. It's the best we've got. Okay.

What... What should we do? Burn down the woods? We live here. Okay, okay, all right. Okay, we could... Oh, I know. We could empty out all their alcohol so they get bored and go home.

They're already drunk, Lins. But by the morning, they'll be sober. They may not have until morning. Jeremy narrowed his eyes at something out in the woods. Oh, no. Please, no. Not now. But the fire had already gone out.

I ran to where Jeremy stood. His eyes glued to the thing walking through the trees. It was slow and cumbersome, as if it was in no hurry. But it made confident, deliberate, statured. and its trajectory pointed straight into Window Canyon. It's already hunting them. It walked by, 30 meters from our camp. We have to warn those morons.

We will. Grab your pack. We're moving out. We can beat it to their camp if we're smart. You can, I thought. But I'm not going into that canyon. No packs. Jeremy looked at me in surprise.

and let his bag fall off his shoulder to the ground. Are you sure? And I was surprised to find that I really was. Yes, they'll just slow us down. Now come on. We gave the phantom a wide berth and ran like hell for the canyon. Those kids were drunk and stupid and noisy, and they would be easy prey for a creature like that. The sky was fading into the dark purples and dark,

graze of dawn as we neared the edge of Window Canyon. I didn't know what I was going to do when we got there. And before I knew it, we arrived at the edge. There was a defined and definite end of the path where the trail started down into the canyon. I was stopped on the other side looking at Jeremy, who was already halfway down the trail. He skidded to a stop when he realized I was no longer behind him. He looked back at me, but didn't say a word. I don't think I... His face held an expression like he was waiting for an answer to a very important question, and I guess he was. He was barely breathing, eyes wide in anticipation and emotion. I wondered if this was the look that his girlfriend had seen when he proposed to her,

minutes before she pushed him to his death, had she said yes or no? I suddenly realized that I had never asked him. Jeremy had offered me every detail of his life, even the most painful ones, for comfort and entertainment. And what had I given him back in all these long decades, my brother's name? I knew I couldn't fail him in this one thing. I had to go with Jeremy. I had to go into the canyon or people were going to die, perhaps worse than die. Jeremy saw the emotions cross my face, and when he realized I made a decision, he held out his hand to me. I took it and took my first step into the canyon since I had walked out of it over 30 years before. Stay with me. Don't split up. Don't look. If you see it, Lindsay, don't look.

I ran alongside him wondering where we were going. I wasn't familiar with this part of Window Canyon, and I had no idea where the drunk hikers were camping. In the pale, muddy lightning of the morning sky, I thought I could see smoke rising from the trees down below. It was at least two miles away, but I knew it could have been worse, much worse. Window Canyon was sprawling. We didn't speak as we ran, and I tried to look only at the ground and think about anything other than where I was. But it was all I could think about. I had spent the longest days of my life in this canyon,

wandering aimlessly through the forest, trying to find a way out of it, a way back to my family. It was just supposed to be a day hike. A quick tour of the canyon on a beautiful fall morning. I had only left the trail to pee. Everyone stopped for me and waited on the well-worn path as I tried to get far enough away that no one could see me or hear me. I hadn't gone far, really. but I never found that trail again. They didn't hear my cries and I didn't hear theirs.

I walked for miles looking for a trail, any trail at that point. I spent five cold nights sleeping under trees. I drank from a creek and gave myself diarrhea. I ate leaves. And then one night I laid down under an evergreen and I didn't get up. again. But I did finally find my way out of the canyon. I even found my way back to our campsite at Christmas Lake. But my family was gone. Everyone was gone. The snowfall had started. And I did finally see a search and rescue team looking for me. But there wasn't a rescue operation.

Only recovery, I overheard them say. I followed them to the edge of the canyon every time. They never came out with a body. So I never went back in. The worst and last days of my life were spent in that canyon. And somewhere, in here, I still remain. I swallowed the sick in my throat. Don't think about it.

Stop thinking about it, you idiot. I see them. I looked up from the trail for the first time. There they are. They were all sitting around their campfire. It was still mostly dark out. But thin rays of dawn were starting to peek through the trees as we rolled slowly toward the sun. Get out!

I waved my arms in the air. Get out! Get out of here! Lindsay. They can't hear you. What do we do? What do we do? I paced around the edge of their campsite,

dry leaves and pine needles crunching under my converse. They can't hear us. They can't see us. We make fires. We can make fires all over, and they'll see them and freak out. I don't have the matches. What? I'm sorry.

I don't know. I may have dropped them or left them with the packs. I... Jeremy! I know. Suddenly their fire went out. What the fuck? The girl started laughing.

You built the shittiest fires ever, Jeff. Maybe we should have stayed at the spirit fire. No, this is... That's impossible. Who cares? It's basically morning anyway. Yeah, but... It's here.

It's coming. I turned and saw that the thing was indeed coming towards us through the trees. Its shadow was becoming hard to see, and I wondered if it could be seen at all in the light of day. The canyon around us had gone eerily quiet. I turned to Jeremy to ask him what to do, but he was already running toward the phantom and screaming at it. Hey, hey you, what the fuck do you want? Get out of here. They're just kids. No older than us, I thought. I I saw the creature lift an arm in the shadows and swing it at Jeremy, throwing him 30 yards to his left. Jeremy!

I ran after him as the phantom passed me and walked into the campsite. I found him just as the kids started screaming. Most of their words I couldn't make out, but some were crystal clear. Mike? I was crying as I bent down to pick him up where he'd been thrown. I knew full well. that you could still feel pain when you were dead.

One of the joys of the afterlife. Lindsay. Jeremy winced as he stumbled to his feet. It's killing them. I can hear it tearing them. Jeremy pulled me into him and covered my ears with his palms as if I was a child.

I placed my hands over his and squeezed my eyes shut with the absolute silence that accompanied the phantom everywhere it went. The screams and sounds of death were all that we could hear. Suddenly, Jeremy took his hands off of my face and yanked me around to run behind him. I noticed immediately that we were running behind the girl

and the other kid, Jeff, who seemed to have survived. Mike was not with them. As I ran, I could hear the loud crashing and snapping of branches behind me as the great shadow chased us through the woods, hunting the two hikers that had escaped it. We were running away from our campsite, away from our packs, deeper and deeper into the canyon. There was no way out, not for the kids, not for us, not for me in 1983 when I'd become lost back there. The only way out was back the way we came, and there was only death behind us.

I suddenly skidded to a halt and pulled a Jeremy off the trail. What are you doing? We have to help them. We can't. We can't. You already proved that. We have to do something, Lindsay. I know.

I think we should do your idea. What idea? He bent down, hands on his knees panting. Burn it down. Burn it all down. I gestured to the woods around. us. The canyon?

The woods. Lindsay, I don't think that's possible. The canyon, maybe. It's really dry down here, surprisingly, but not the forest. If we burn the forest, that thing would have no place to hide. But we live here. You said so. We don't live anywhere, Jeremy.

We're dead. What about the matches? I don't have them. No? I yelled back and turned away from him to rub my face. But I did know because the matches were mine. I'd had them in death because they had been with me in life, wrapped in a plastic bag, tucked inside the pocket of my jacket. One lit match in the right pile of leaves could set this entire canyon on fire. Come on. We're getting my matches.

They're all the way back at the caverns. Not those matches. Lindsay. Jeremy stopped and whirled me around to face him. You don't have to do this. Yes, I do. Or they are going to die. And then more people are going to die.

Then let me do it. You don't know where to go. Jeremy searched my face for a moment and then nodded. He took my hand again. I'm with you all the way. We weren't that far, and I had spent so much time wandering this part of the canyon in the days before my death that I knew the area better than any. We ran less than two miles before we came to a hill, and I pointed down into the underbrush beneath the trees. It's there, down there, under all those leaves, probably.

Maybe even dirt. Maybe even washed away. I choked on my last words. Let me. No. No, you don't know. I have to show you. Come on.

I skidded down the hill and ran into the first tree I could find. Jeremy came up behind me, and I pointed to a large pine about ten feet away. There were no leaves there, only dirt and pine needles. But in between it all, buried underneath. I saw my bright green jacket, the very one I was currently wearing, turning brown and gray from age and the elements. Jeremy took a step toward it, and I stopped him. It had to be me. After all this time, it had to be me.

I approached the body and stopped to look up at the trees and sky that had been the last thing I ever saw. before I closed my eyes that night. I knelt down and began to brush away the pine needles. The body was just a little bone now, and pieces of my jacket erupted out of the dirt. I scraped away as much as I could, but it was no use. I yanked on the bone as tears rolled down my face, willing it to snap,

willing to feel something other than horror and heartache. and then Jeremy was there, gently moving my hands away and digging into the dirt with his own. When it was free, he pulled out the jacket, which still held the old, yet undamaged matchbook.

I hurried away from the body, and Jeremy followed me back up the hill. He opened the matchbook and counted. Fifteen, but this book is not our never-ending matchbook. You know more about outdoor survival than me. You decide where to throw the matches.

Lindsay, if this is going to work, we need to split up. We need to set these fast, and in such a way that the blazes end up colliding and feeding each other. Just tell me what to do. As we gained higher and higher ground, Jeremy pointed out seven areas in the canyon that he wanted me to set fire to. I looked down. and for the first time since I got lost in the canyon, the days before my death, I saw the beauty of it again.

Of the river, pony rock, the lush, green forest. It was a pity we were going to burn it all down. But there was something ugly in these woods, something evil. Jeremy kissed me on my head, squeezed my hand, and told me to meet me. him at Christmas Lake when I was done. I ran as fast as I could, covering the miles in record speed, setting deliberate but hurried fires in all the places Jeremy had told me with my half of the ripped matchbook. The first three fires blazed huge and hungry, but the fourth fizzled out to nothing. I used another match and made sure to shove more dead pine needles on the fire this time. Then I grabbed the

longest stick I could find, set it on fire, and ran for the fifth location, setting a light every bush and tree along the way. The last two fires caught hungrily and so easily that I didn't even need the matches. The sky turned dark gray with smoke as I ran for Christmas Lake. The fire seemed to follow me. No matter how far I got, the flames were always close behind. I made it to the rim of the canyon and looked down. into the fiery pit we had made. The gorge was filling with smoke and the flames were climbing up the sides of the mountains. Nowhere left to hide, asshole. I took one last look down into the canyon and bolted toward Christmas Lake. I had forgotten how easy it was to travel without a pack. I felt unburdened and free,

as if I had been carrying my entire life in that stupid pack, and now I was relieved of it all. It was a few miles to the lake, but they passed quickly. I could see the fire still following me, although it moved slower and spread outward as far as I could see along the horizon. As I was watching the flames lick the sky behind me, I hit a rock with my shoe and went sprawling onto the forest floor. And in that one still moment, I finally heard it.

The absolute silence. Oh no. I rolled over and began searching the forest for movement. I could only assume that the sun was still rising in the sky, since the black smoke had covered it as far as the eye could see. And the only light was the distant flames that cast an orange glow on the trees around. me. The dancing flames upon the bark made any other movement impossible to see. And then my eyes found it, much closer than I had hoped. The tall outline of the phantom was standing right next to me.

And then his arm was reaching out to me, and I was screaming. His long fingers caught me around the middle, and they felt like shards of glass slicing me down to my spine. I screamed louder. I tried to struggle against him, but his sharp fingers only seemed to dig in tighter. The shadow melted into matter, and suddenly I was looking at the great, black, sinewy skin of the giant creature.

He moved like he was made of wood and had no features upon his face other than a small, round mouth. Lost. I was lost. I was about to be worse than dead. There would be no Jeremy where I was going. No trees, no lakes, no hated canyons, just oblivion.

Or worse. How had it found me? It had been running the other way. Why would it turn to follow me? I was the bone in the empty stew pot. Why not follow the meat in the stew? Maybe because it was fleeing. Maybe it was running away from the fire.

Maybe it hated fire. Our fires always went out before it came close. So maybe it more than hated fire. Maybe it feared it. Such a primal creature must have a primal foe. It only seemed to make sense in that moment when all else fell away and the only other thing that existed was the crippling pain of the fingers. I found my pocket with a shaking hand and pulled out the matchbook. Please work.

The creature squeezed even tighter if that were possible and his tiny mouth began to sink in on itself like a collapsing star until it was wide enough. to fit my body inside. I yanked both matches off the strip and sending up a silent prayer to a God I knew didn't exist. I struck the matches against the strip and watched as they caught fire. Then flung the orange glow into the creature's chest. It went up like a Christmas tree in March.

The phantom dropped me immediately and disappeared back into the transparent state that adopted when it was hunting. There were no screams from it, no floundering. It just stood there and burned up like all the trees behind it. I pulled myself away from it, hand over hand trying to get as far away as I could. I continued crawling until it was long behind me, and the forest fire had caught up to the phantom and consumed whatever was left of it,

which I doubted was very much, because for a big scary monster, that creature was highly flammable. Finally, as the pain subsided, I was able to start limping along toward Christmas Lake. And that's how Jeremy found me, mere yards away from the spreading fire, which had caught up to me. It's dead. What? Are you sure? I killed it myself.

I pulled up my shirt to show him. the long, angry tears in my flesh that wrapped around my entire body. Jesus, Linney. I'll tell you about it just as soon as I sit for a while. I panted. Since the shores of the crystal blue lake had come into view, I let Jeremy carry me the rest of the way. Looks like we succeeded in burning down the forest.

He set me down on the sand. Yeah, it's a lot of driving. than I thought it would be for the time of year. You don't think it'll all burn down, do you? No. I mean, it spread a few more miles than I would ever have anticipated, but there's no way. I mean, look, you can't even see it anymore. I looked back the way we had come, and he was right.

The sky was still black with smoke, but the red-orange hue of the flames was nowhere to be seen along the horizon. Good. I would have felt terrible. Jeremy gave me a terribly concerned look. Tell me what happened. By nightfall of the second night, I was ready to move again. Jeremy thought we should stay at the lake for a few more days so I could recover. But I needed information. How much of the forest had burned?

Did firefighters get the blaze under control? Had anyone been hurt? had anyone died? We had to hike the entire night by moonlight, but we finally made it to what remained of our fire. The canyon had been completely scorched, and was still burning in many places. The fires above the rim had been burned out

or been doused by the time we reached the aptly named Burn Rock near the edge of the woods. It was the closest we could get to the road and fire crews to hear their conversations. We sat down on the ground on our side of the road and watched them until dawn crept in and morning gave way to noon.

We learned that the fires were all out or under control and that the two kids who had come screaming out of the woods like bats out of hell were both alive and being treated for trauma and exhaustion. We sat there for days, long after the fires were out and even after the last response team had left our area. In the days that we had spent watching the firefighters from the side of the road,

I had leaned on Jeremy's shoulder and told him everything about me, including the horrible, lonely, terrifying last days of my life. I talked about my eventual acceptance of the inevitability of my death, and the entire day I had spent wandering around looking for the perfect place to lay down and die. It was the reason I had known the area where my body rested so well. I told him about my family, how I believed they didn't look hard enough,

how angry I was when search and rescue only showed up to recover my body so many days after I was already dead, told him about the years before I had met him when I wandered around, convinced that I was still alive, looking for a way out and refusing to go back into the canyon, the only way I knew for sure had a road. Because if I went that way, I would find my body, and then I would know.

And I didn't want to know. But eventually, when no one could see or hear me, and it became obvious I could never leave the woods, I began to realize that I was dead and I was alone. And then I found you. I told Jeremy, giving him a cheeky smirk. How lucky for me. He rolled his eyes, but his tone was amuse. Should we go try and find our packs?

No, we don't really use them anyway. So where do you want to head now? I opened my mouth to tell him that I wanted to. to step out of this forest and walk back to civilization, of course. But it suddenly really wasn't true anymore. I didn't want to go back to the city, and I didn't want to go home, because there was nothing there for me. Everyone was old. Everyone had moved on with their lives, and I didn't have a life, but I felt a strange pull to move on anyway. As I played in the dirt with my shoe, I wondered about the gravel road that lay in front of me.

It was still a road, that was to be sure. But what if it was more than that? What if it wasn't just a road for the living? What if it was my road, too? I could feel its pull on me, even now. I stood up and Jeremy looked at me in surprise. before climbing to his feet, too. Do you know where we're going?

No, but I think that's okay. Jeremy didn't say anything to that. And then I took the first confidence step I had taken since I had stepped off the trail away from my family decades before. And then I was in the road. But it wasn't the dirt and gravel it had been. the moment before. It was brighter and warmer. I turned to look back at Jeremy with wide eyes, but he was already standing beside me. You knew? Yes. For how long? A while. He happily stretched

in the glistening light. I let the brilliant, soothing warmth sink into me, all the way down to my bones, and for the first time since I could remember, I wasn't cold or hungry. You could have left me at any time. It wasn't a question. It made sense, really. Jeremy didn't fight against his fate. Jeremy had understood that there was no longer any place for him in the world. He had accepted his death with the grace and dignity that was as ingrained in his soul as his DNA was in his body. No way. I needed a plus one for this party. Is this the other side? No idea, but it's bright and warm, and I need a drink.

You think there's alcohol there? I raised an eyebrow and smiled. I can smell the mojitos from here. Hopefully no hangovers, though. Not where we're going, sweetheart. I looked back at the forest that had been our home for so long. It looked so small now. The trees were swaying in the wind as if bidding farewell to their longest residence. I wondered if I would miss them.

Are you ready? Jeremy asked, as he offered me an outstretched hand, and I was. It's time to rest on our dark journey. We thank you for joining us. If you would like to find out how you can hear the full-length versions of our audio program, please visit the nosleeppodcast.com to learn about our season pass program. 25 episodes, each over two hours long, and three exclusive bonus episodes all for only 1999.

On behalf of everyone at the No Sleep Podcast, we thank you for listening. Join us again next week when the journey resumes its descent into the sleepless night. This audio production is copyright 2017-2018 by Creative Reason Media Inc. All rights reserved. The copyrights for each story are held by the respective authors. No duplication or reproduction of this audio program is permitted without the written consent of Creative Reason Media, Inc.