The NoSleep Podcast - S19 Ep21: NoSleep Podcast S19E21

Episode Date: June 25, 2023

It’s Episode 21 of Season 19. We ponder weak and weary with tales about traveling travails.“Aurora” written by Robert Sykes (Story starts around 00:04:00)Produced by: Phil MichalskiCast: Chuck ��� Kyle Akers, Dad – Jesse Cornett“Hindsight” written by Stephanie Scissom (Story starts around 00:30:00)TRIGGER WARNING!Produced by: Jeff ClementCast: Sarah – Nichole Goodnight, Jesse – Jeff Clement, Sarah’s dad – David Cummings, Riva – Erika Sanderson“The Halsteds” written by Arvind Veluvali (Story starts around 00:43:45)Produced & scored by: David CummingsCast: Teddy – Dan Zappulla, Slater – Linsay Rousseau, Boone – Atticus JacksonJay – Matthew Bradford, Maeve – Kristen DiMercurio, Julian – Mike DelGaudio, Detective – Peter Lewis“Southbound” written by Mark Nixon (Story starts around 01:07:55)Produced by: Phil MichalskiCast: Narrator – David Ault, The thing in the boot – Erika Sanderson“The Siren of Bethany Falls” written by Marcus Damanda (Story starts around 01:14:30)TRIGGER WARNING!Produced by: Jesse CornettCast: Natalie – Sarah Ruth Thomas, Ray – Graham Rowat, Tricia – Mary Murphy, Perry – David Cummings, Girl in Pool – Mary Murphy, Sunbather – Jesse Cornett, Child #1 – Matthew Bradford, Child #2 – Jeff Clement, Child #3 – Kristen DiMercurio, Child #4 – Linsay RousseauThis episode is sponsored by:Betterhelp - This episode is sponsored by BetterHelp. Give online therapy a try at betterhelp.com/nosleep and get on your way to being your best self.Click here to learn more about The NoSleep Podcast teamClick here for the Sleepless Summer Solstice Season Pass SaleClick here to learn more about Stephanie ScissomClick here to learn more about Arvind VeluvaliClick here to learn more about Marcus DamandaExecutive Producer & Host: David CummingsMusical score composed by: Brandon Boone“Aurora” illustration courtesy of Krys HookuhAudio program ©2023 – 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. The works of Edgar Allan Poe reside in the public domain.

In the dark shadows of the Rue Morg, to the rhythm of the stolen telltale heart, as the black cat swings upon the pendulum, and the cask offers its sherry deep and dry. As you knock at our chamber door, we open and usher you. Our sleepless tales for you in store, and the terror shall be lifted. for the no sleep to the no sleep podcast. I'm your host, David Cummings. Welcome to summer. Apologies to those of you south of the equator.

But since most of us are in the northern hemisphere, we are now squarely in the summer months. Time for sun and travel. And if you're traveling, you'll probably want something to listen to on the trains, planes, and automobiles you'll be in. That's why I'm happy to announce the sleepless summer solstice season pass sale.

That's right. From Sunday, June 25th to Friday, June 30th, season passes 13 through 19 will be on sale for only 1999 each. It's the perfect time to catch up on all the great stories you've missed over the past four years. Plenty of great longer stories, along with bonus episodes like the Suddenly Shocking series, the Christmas and Halloween bonus episodes, and many more. Just go to season pass.

Dot the no sleeppodcast.com for links to purchase season passes for only 1999 each. And speaking of traveling, that just happens to be the theme of this week's episode. It's not unusual to experience horror when you're away from home in unfamiliar surroundings. Perhaps it's the nightmares experienced while on a road trip. Or maybe it's what you experience when you arrive at that strange B&B with uncommonly good reviews. Either way, travel and horror go hand in hand. And here's a travel experience you might consider this summer, especially if you're along the east coast of the U.S.

Why not visit all four houses which are now Edgar Allan Poe museums? That's right. Four cities claim historic homes in which Poe lived and wrote. You can start in Richmond, Virginia, where Poe lived most of his young life. Then you're off to Baltimore, Maryland, where Poe lived for a few years. You can visit his grave, as mentioned on last week's show, and even attend the annual Poe Fest International. The next stop is Philadelphia, a place Poe lived for six years and is now an historical site which may have inspired Poe to write the story, The Black Cat. And finally, you'll end up in New York, in the Bronx. This was the last house Edgar Allan Poe lived in up until his death, and it's where his beloved wife passed away.

Sounds like a delightfully dark way to see some sights and enjoy those poetic cities. So whether you're on the road this summer or staying close to home, we hope you'll journey with us into the darkness. And now, our tales travel to you upon a midnight dreary. Best not to ponder them while weak and weary. In our first tale, we meet a man and his dad. The man developed an interest in UFOs when he was younger, and his dad just happened to be in the intelligent sector of the Air Force.

No doubt a source of fascinating inside scoops. But in this tale, shared with us by author Robert Sykes, when the pair decide to take a road trip together, they both learn a lot more about the myths and truths of UFOs. Performing this tale are Kyle Acres and Jesse Cornett. So you may know about Roswell and Area 51, but let's learn more about something known as Aurora. We lived on Wright-Pratterson then, or perhaps it was Rome Air Station in upstate New York. We moved around a lot, but I remember it was an air show.

Dad had a few days off, and it was summer. I loved it. We sat in the bleachers and watched the thunderbirds. I could feel the rumbles of the engines in my chest. I must have been ten. After the aerobatics, we walked to the BX for ice cream sandwiches. Between bites, I asked one of the questions a kid would ask. Hey, Dad?

I began. Unlike some military families, he did not truck me with him calling him, sir. I think his own father did that, and he hadn't liked it. What's the fastest airplane? He thought for a moment and scratched his chin, probably dad's favorite among his repertoire of gestures. I always felt Air Force grooming standards deprive the world of a great beard scratcher. I heard the text talking about something called the Aurora.

Up until this moment, my interest in UFOs had always been that of a cheesy ghost story. The kind of teacher would read to grade schoolers near Halloween. You could spook yourself a bit, but it wasn't true. But the name had set off some chain of neurons. The UFO books talk about the Aurora. Oh? They said it's top secret and based on the flying saucer that crashed at Roswell. I trailed off.

Dad had his smirk that made me feel like an idiot. Well, sometimes you can't believe everything you read. I realized he had led me in a U-turn back towards the BX. Say, Chuck, do you want a new GI Joe? I think I saw a new one at the shop. You don't have shadow viper yet, do you? Classic counterintelligence. Mastirect, distract, and conquer.

I did lose my train of thought at the time, but the next time I found myself in the school library, I remembered the conversation. UFO books took up more of my attention than they had before. Whenever we moved across the country, I would eagerly devour the new flying saucer books at the base libraries. Between my junior and senior years of high school, dad took me on a road trip.

We were living in the springs at the time, a great place for landscapes. We stopped at the UFO watchtower outside of Alamosa. It was gloriously, kitsch, a bit hippie-dippy for my tastes. Fated plywood cutouts of aliens, hand-painted signs telling us of the energy vortexes, and flying saucers made of scrap metal,

littered an area around short metal observation platform. in a small plane leading to a spine of mountains. Like a lot of teenagers, I took myself too seriously. I certainly didn't buy into that brand of UFOology. Still, I recognized Dad was making an effort, so I tried to enjoy the tourist bit. The weekend crowd included a man flying a drone over the dunes and an older man talking to the lady that ran the place.

Dad and I settled into a spot at the edge of the property, away from the others. He patted a UFO made from two rusted satellite dishes welded together. You know, it's all bullshit, right? His frankness caught me off guard. I'd only heard such a bluntness during the drug talk, nothing that goes up your nose or in your arm, and the sex talk.

Same rules as the drug talk. I mean, yeah, I think there's a lot of stuff mixed with it, but I think there's something real at the core of it. Dad held the bridge of his nose, almost smudging his aviators. I think I may have let you down as a father. It wasn't easy after we lost your mother. I... I get it. Dad, he nodded.

Look, son, I know you love this stuff, but I have to tell you something. He glanced around. Then he pulled something that looked like a key fobbed from his pocket and pushed a button on it. I looked around myself. After a few seconds, the drone guy started slapping his controls and cursing. I couldn't spot the quadcopter anywhere in the sky. So, here's the deal. You know I work for a part of the Air Force called the Office of Special Investigations.

I specialize in counterintelligence. Do you know what that means? My curiosity had overridden my annoyance at my dad's poo-pooing my UFO research. Spy versus Spy stuff? Exactly. Controlling information. And what do you know about the Air Force's UFO research? They publicly looked into it from 47 to 70, though a bunch of people involved said it looked like some were real. The official report said there's nothing to see here, move along.

About 90% were explainable, though some of the explanations were pretty ridiculous. But those 10% tended to belong to cases better in vending. Okay, okay. I should know better than to get you going. Dad had his hands up, then dropped them. Well, you know those weird explanations, experienced pilots chasing the planet Venus, swamp gas in the middle of the desert. Yeah?

We know what those were. We had a policy. If you saw some secret something or other, then we would cook up an explanation, however ridiculous. So the unknowns... were really unknown? Stay focused, but... And the point is that it did not take long for the Ruskies to pick up on the pattern. If we slapped together some ridiculous explanation,

they knew the siding had to do with a high-end spy plane we were testing. So a few years after, we washed our hands of this UFO business. We flipped it. If we wanted to hide something, we put out chatter about little green men. and foreign intelligence services ignored it. It feels melodramatic to say it out loud, but I found myself fighting tears.

Having caught Dad referencing the Aurora had made me feel special. Like I alone knew what was really going on. Like I had insights. No one else, not even the people who wrote the UFO books, had figured out. But Dad had decided to tell me a worse truth about this particular Santa Claus. When the tears threatened to escape my eyes, I expected some kind of act macho speech from dad. Instead, he silently handed me his aviators.

His eyes looked sad. He didn't mean to hurt my feelings, but felt like he had to. We actively ceded most of the big UFO stories from that point on. Rindle Sham Forrest was a crashed nuclear transport. We cooked up the ET angle so the Brits wouldn't kick our nuke bases out of the UK. Cash Landrum was an accident where we accidentally irradiated some civilians with a prototype nuclear engine. Roswell was a balloon-based spying platform. But Roswell was back in 47.

You're right. But people mostly forgot about it until my office, Ghost wrote a book about it, kept the Soviets from sniffing around white sands. It worked so well we tricked that Bob Lazar guy into tell. telling everyone, Area 51 was where we kept the flying saucers. Russian spies were too embarrassed to look into the American UFO base. Mission accomplished. Dad looked kind of proud for a second and looked sheepish.

Look, Chuck, I'm sorry. Growing up is hard, but the time comes to put away childish things. He left me to stare out at the desert for a moment. He waited in the car until I felt ready to join him. You want to drive? We hadn't spoken in a while. The sun had gone down. I wasn't mad.

I was just processing. And Dad knew the exact thing to say to snap me out of it. I had my permit and I planned on taking the test in a few months. Sure. I appreciated the gesture and the seat time. We parked and switched places. Dad visibly fought the urge to remind me to buckle up, adjust the mirrors, check the lights, though I could see him relax a little more when I started

working the mental checklist. You buckled? Good catch. He clipped his seatbelt into place. I figured you could use some night driving. Thanks, Dad. Before getting the car back on the road, I sank the Bluetooth to my phone and put on some postal surface, silencing Dad's awful stadium country. Hey.

Your rule. Driver picks the tunes and passengers shut up. their static hole. Well, yeah, that's the rule when I'm the driver. But he didn't touch the radio. After a few moments, Dad pointed to the exit for Phantom Canyon. Okay, Chuck. I figured you're ready for some practice on hard mode.

It's a winding dirt road at night. It's also one lane, so keep it slow and pull over for anyone coming the other way. Got it, Dad. He smiled. He knew I was still processing. Andy knew this detour would take enough of my focus to snap me out of my thoughts. We didn't see another vehicle until about halfway through the canyon. After the first 15 minutes, Dad had satisfied himself that I wouldn't send us careening off the road and took a nap.

Military people can sleep anywhere, even the bumpiest road in the state. He woke up when such great heights started playing. Maybe the changing tempo jarred him. Maybe I'd hit a larger-than-normal pothole. He yawned and smacked his lips a bit. that he took a gulp of water from Analogine. Huh. What's up?

Do you see that? In the road? No, pull over. We had enough shoulder that I could pull off completely. The soil looked rocky enough that we wouldn't get stuck. Dad opened the glove compartment and grabbed an olive drab L light. He started fumbling with the filters setting on a blue. Dad got out before the car stopped moving.

He stumbled on the rocky soil. I pressed the parking brake into place with a foot. bouncing from base to base as a kid had a few effects on me. For example, I sometimes struggled to read and understand people, but I knew patterns. Dad always had this extreme methodicalness about him. He always kept his arms and legs inside the cart until the ride had come to a complete stop, seeing him fumbling around in the glove compartment, tripping out of a moving vehicle. It wasn't the pattern.

The hairs on the back of my head stood at attention. And I got out. Get back in the car. No. Dad glanced at me, but had other things on his mind. He turned his eyes back to the sky. I followed his gaze. If the moon was out, the canyon walls blocked all of its light.

The Milky Way filled the aperture of sky framed between the canyon walls. Against that backdrop, a circular object hung, roughly centered between the walls of the canyon. The object only made the slightest noise, a buzzing that he felt more than heard. more like a phone vibrating in her pocket than the whine of a drone or the dull roar of a distant jet beyond the circular shape i couldn't see any detail i had the vaguest impression of rotation but the object radiated something that resonated with the deepest most primitive parts of my animal brain some basal instinct told me to never take my eyes off the thing in the sky i felt like a caveman with my back to our fire, looking out at glowing eyes, an unsettling distance above the ground.

No, these feelings, these impressions went further back, felt like a mouse, hiding in a not quite tall enough grass while something much bigger slowly moved closer, forcing me to decide between running or freezing and hoping some other rodent was dumb enough to make the wrong call. The thing in the sky triggered some ancient circuit of neurons. with one encoded message. You are not the top of the food chain. I looked over at Dad. He had training and gave no outward sign of the terror I knew he must have felt.

His movements looked mechanical, slow but deliberate. He raised his L-shaped flashlight and pressed the signal button, creating a few pulses of light. Morse code, I assumed. The thing in the sky responded immediately. Lights punched through the silhouette. For a split second, I had the impression of a ring of colorful Christmas lights. Some of the points of light gave the impression of portholes.

Others glowed like afterburners or thrusters. What the hell, Dad? He looked at me. Get in the car. I had never heard that tone from him. Despite his rank and authority, he never treated me like a subordinate. He was more a teacher than a commander to me. Needless to say, I got my ass into the car.

Drive, now, fast. He did not need to yell to command. The car weakly crawled forward, and the air smelled funny. Parking brick! Dad clutched a phone I'd never seen before. It looked like a very old cell phone, bulky. I hit the brake, and the car lurched back onto the dirt path. I heard part of what he said.

Skunk works actual. This is Colonel Booms. Sign, Knox 1. ID code Majestic 13. Do we have anything in the area of Fremont, Colorado? I focused on the road, but I could tell Dad's eyes remained upwards. The speedometer topped 40. I couldn't go faster.

We were already skidding on the turns. My instincts worked better than I thought they would, turning into skids, not over-correcting. Still, the road was narrow and the drops deep. I wished I could just gun it. And in spite of everything, I wanted to hear Dad's conversation. I knew very little of his work. On a hairpin turn, we both saw it. The headlights flashed over it.

Did you see that? I saw a deer walking on his hind legs. Or maybe an owl. I had the same impressions. I realized my jaw had dropped open. Dad noticed. Spit it out. In my UFO books, I never believed that part.

I thought it was just a myth that caught attached to the stories, something people made up to sell. Chuck, a focus. I took in a deep breath. In my UFO books, abductees have screen memories. When they see aliens, they usually don't see them as aliens, at least not his first. It's like the human brain doesn't understand it, so it tries to make sense of the pieces with bits of things it knows. Or the aliens have some kind of telepathy and just brain screw us into seeing something else.

Dad looked solemn. I arranged a surprise for him. our most advanced interceptors and a mob-up crew. Time on to intercept 30 seconds. Stop here. I pulled the car to a stop just before a wooden bridge. Anything that came on foot would have to pass through a bottleneck to get to us. For the first time since we started running, I had the chance to look up.

The lighted saucer hung above us. I could not sense the scale of the shape. Here the walls of the canyon had opened up. If the craft was lower than the cany, canyon walls, it might have been smaller than the car. If the flying saucer was cruising higher, it could have been bigger than a football field. I heard the familiar roar of a high-performance military jet with a throttle completely open. It triggered a memory of sobbing at the sound as a toddler, unable to comprehend the roar that I could feel in my lungs and made my ears ring. The jets appeared,

moving roughly parallel to the false horizon created by the canyon walls. They flew straight at the object. even from the ground they appeared to be clipping along. Growing up on Air Force bases, I had a better handle on the size of the fighters. I had points of comparison. They were lower than an airline's cruising altitude, but nowhere near buzzing the ground. Dad got out and motioned for me to do the same. I hesitated, but decided he knew it best. Got you, bastard.

Dad's words puffed into vapor in the cold, dry night. He still had his eyes fixed on the saucer, but his confidence return. I don't care what Star Trek technology you have. Pump enough depleted uranium through them, and they're a problem for the salvage guys. The sound of the roaring jets stopped. I scanned the sky for them. Their contrails ended abruptly. I couldn't pick out their glowing afterburners, nor their dark shapes against the Milky Way. In the absence of the roar of the jets, I could only feel that buzzing. The buzzing had gotten louder. The sound had begun to translate into the sound. It would be got to translate a headache. I could barely stand. I heard the door on dad's side open. Get in. It was the first time I'd

heard it, but somehow I knew it wasn't the first time he'd said it. I slumped into the car and fumbled at the seatbelt. Don't bother. Drive. Movement made me look up. Impossibly long fingers slid across the glass. Their proportions were bizarre, wrong. I couldn't see much beyond them in the dark. Drive! I twisted the key so hard the car stuttered before starting. We spun in the gravel for a second, then overcame our inertia and began down the road. The car chided me for a few seconds for not buckling up, but the alarm stopped while I picked up speed.

My headache lessened while we drove. Dad fumbled with his phone. I heard static and could see the green LCD screen flickering. Dad muttered words, I didn't know he knew I knew. I slowed for another hairpin turn. I narrowly decided against trying to jump into the lower level. We had camped in the canyon the summer before, but I couldn't recognize landmarks in the dark. The road would spit us out past woodland, into a vast open stretch of highway with a few gas stations.

Nowhere to hide. We could deal with that later. When we got past the turn, bright lights greeted us. Suddenly I couldn't hear the buzzing anymore. I could see figures moving in the light. It took a second, but they were. resolved into human shapes. Friendly!

Dad seemed almost hysterically relieved. Troops wearing fatigued and full battle rattle had set up a well-lit roadblock. Once again, Dad jumped from the car. I hadn't had a chance to start driving towards the checkpoint, but something... Dad, don't! The door was already swinging shut. He turned to me. Then turned towards the advancing airmen.

Only their uniforms were a bit wrong. They wore their rank insignia upside. down. They had old woodland BDU patterns instead of the newer gray digital pattern. Their pants bloused over tennis shoes instead of boots. The guns were the mock-ups used in drill practice, and then broomsticks. Then were they ever carrying guns in the first place? With each step towards us, they looked more wrong. I began to wonder how I could have ever mistaken them for airmen in the first place. My brain had been covering for them. I realized the buzzing hadn't really gone. gone away. It had just dialed up to the point that it permeated everything. I didn't notice it.

In the same way, I didn't notice gravity. My body vibrated at its frequency, blocking every muscle in place. I felt like I got my fingers stuck in a 240-volt outlet. Dad slumped. The creatures no longer looked human. Perhaps humanoid in the loosest definition of the word, they gathered his slumping body and began carrying him towards the source of the light. The UFO books had them all wrong. Like the deer or owl I had seen before, the descriptions seemed to try to force familiar landmarks onto unfamiliar terrain. The only thing they had right was the eyes. Once you looked into those huge black wraparound eyes, it connected you to something in them, something that deepened my paralysis.

The head was large, but not ridiculous. Where there should have been a mouth and nose they had only a featureless mound of flesh that gave the impression of a pilot's oxygen mask. At the end of ape-length arms were those truly bizarre hands. Two pads created heart-shaped palms that could fold together. Each pad had two impossibly long, three-jointed fingers that ended in a callus. I got a great view of the hand when they opened my door. The whole spindly thing would have looked frail and vulnerable,

except something about them pushed every button in the reptile part of my brain. Hide, burrow, fleeing. They knew how to work human doors. Hide, scurry, burrow. They grabbed my wrist, and my rigid paralysis gave away to a flexible catatonia. though every part of me wanted to leave, they could manipulate my limbs and lead me. Flee the light, safety in the dark. They led me away from the car.

Dad had been reduced to a blown out shadow in the light ahead of me. Beyond the floodlights, I sense something large vibrating with some kind of energy. My mind shut down as they led me into the light. Hide, burrow, flee. Sometimes relationships begin with small chance encounters. You meet, fall in love, and spend more and more time together. It can often take a while to discover what a person is really like. And in this tale, shared with us by author Stephanie Schism,

we meet a woman who takes a road trip with her boyfriend. On the trip, she learns a lot more about him than she bargained for. Good thing she also learns about ways to deal with it. Performing this tale are Nicole Goodnight, Jeff Clement, and Erica Sanderson. So whether your decisions are good or bad, they say it's always 2020 when referring to hindsight. I walked toward the bus stop enjoying the cool October day. I'd always loved the fall. Hey, have we met?

I glanced up at the dark-haired boy in front of me, then looked around uncertain whether he was talking to me. His quizzical smile widened to a grin. Nope. My mistake, I would have remembered such a pretty face. If he hadn't been so handsome, I might have laughed and asked if that line ever worked. But looking into his brown eyes, I found myself tongue-tied.

The crosswalk signal changed, and he stepped off the curb. He glanced back at me and smiled as if waiting for me to join him. I barely saw the truck barreling towards him. just a flash from the corner of my eye. But I grabbed his arm and yanked him back to the curb. It blew through the red light and nearly sight swept a van before disappearing from sight. Wow. I think you just saved my life. His name was Jesse.

I went to dinner with him that night and the next and soon we are inseparable. At 19 I'd always been awkward and shy and never had what I'd consider a serious relationship. Jesse made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. and when he asked me to move in with him after only a couple of months, I was thrilled. When friends complained they never saw me anymore, I felt guilty. But Jesse said they were just jealous. When he became angry because he thought I was flirting with a customer at my waitressing job, he demanded to go through my phone and asked for all my social media passwords.

I had nothing to hide, so I gave them to him. He read my messages daily. His jealousy also extended to my family. My sister, Kate, snatched the phone away from me when Jesse called. for the third time while we were on a lunch date. He hung up when Kate demanded to know what the hell his problem was. I dreaded going home that night. When Kate texted me that he was a controlling creep and that we had to talk, Jesse

intercepted it. He became enraged and accused me of trying to turn my family against him. He threw my phone at me narrowly missing my head, but when I started packing my things, he cried and told me he was sorry, that he'd never been so in love with anyone and the thought of losing me made him crazy. I felt guilty for the mean things Kate had said and apologized to him. I said it was because my family didn't really know him, so I convinced him to go to Sunday dinner at my parents' house.

There he turned on the charm. My mother seemed to adore him. My father was reserved, but friendly. Kate, however, remained quiet, watching. When Jesse told my mother, he was trying to get me to quit my little waitressing job and travel for a couple of weeks before college started back, Kate casually reminded him that the little waitressing job was currently paying the rent. Jesse flushed and explained to my family that it was only this month because he had set some cash back for travel expenses.

I didn't contradict him, though it had actually been the last three months. I felt betrayed by my sister and panicked by how Jesse tensed beside me. That was the night he started pinching me. Little painful pinches to the inside of my knee or to my side. Anywhere he could reach when he was sure no one was looking. Jesse forbade me to see Kate unless he was present. Not wanting to fight, I agreed. As the day of the trip neared, I really didn't want to go.

But Jesse said it would be good for us to have some time alone. He promised we would have fun, that he loved me and wanted to show me the world. We would spend a few days in Vegas, and he'd showed me the desert. So I decided to try. Maybe he was right. We just needed to reboot. I even got excited about the trip. I made playlists of all our favorite songs. songs. Jesse seemed to relax as we started the drive from Tennessee to Nevada. It felt almost like

it had in the start until my dad called to check on me. Jesse turned down the radio so he could listen. My dad asked the standard questions how we were, if I'd seen anything interesting, where we were stopping for the night. Then he hesitated and said, I glanced at Jesse and wondered if he'd heard. The tightness around his mouth suggested he had. I laughed like he was making a joke and said, Oh, Daddy, never without you there. When we hung up, Jesse spoke up. What did he say? He said, don't forget to check the oil and...

Don't play stupid. What did he say about getting married? Oh, he was just joking. He said, don't you two run off to Vegas and get married or something like that. He didn't mean anything. Jesse gripped the wheel so tight, his knuckles turned white. He thinks I'm not good enough for you, huh? What have you been saying behind my back this time?

Complaining about money again? I told you. Our business is our business. Jesse, please, I've never said anything bad about you. It was just a joke because that's what people do, you know? Run off to Vegas and get married by Elvis. That bitch sister of yours, running her mouth. I tried to smooth it over, but he remained sullen and quiet.

He surprised me when he pulled into the parking lot of what looked like a small street fair. Vendors sold Halloween crafts and foods while psychics and street performers vied for attention from the people who passed by. Chessie parked and got out without saying a word. I scrambled after him. I need some space. I'm sick of being cooped up with you. Jesse... He spun on his heel, put his hand on my chest, and shoved me backwards.

Not too hard, but enough to make me stumble. I looked around quickly. No one seemed to notice except for a young mother who averted her eyes, and one of the old psychics who stared at me sympathetically. Jesse flushed, locked the car with the fob, and walked away. This time I let him go. Child, come here. Near tears, I took a step towards the psychic, then remembered my purse was locked up in the car.

I don't have any money. The old woman frown. I don't care about money. Come here and give me your hand. Palm readings by Riva, a sign on the table read. I looked for Jesse, but he'd disappeared. Hesitantly, I walked over to Riva and held out my hand. The old woman flipped it over and studied it.

Then she sighed and turned it back over. Hmm. She patted the top of my hand. What would you say if I told you that man is going to hurt you? Oh, no, he'd never hurt me. He's just upset. Riva gave me a sad smile. I did not think you were ready to hear that.

Let me tell you something else. She grabbed a bag from beneath her table and rummaged through it, finally closing her hand around something. This won't make sense to you now, but remember it. Time and energy are fluid and infinite. Many people don't realize how timelines work until they reach the end of one. when it's too late to change anything. But there are doors and there are keys.

You just have to look for them. I couldn't make sense of any of that, but when Riva took my hand again and pressed a small rock into my palm, I accepted it. Keep this with you, always. And remember what I have said. The reddish-colored rock was smooth and light, with a thumb-sized indentation.

I remembered that my grandmother had carried a rock something like that in her pocket. She called it a worry stone and fidgeted with it constantly. Thank you. Put it away. Here he comes. I slipped the rock into my pocket just as Jesse approached. He looked at the sign on the table and rolled his eyes. Come on, we're leaving.

He grabbed my arm, and I cast Riva a glance over my shoulder as I let Jesse pull me toward the car. The old woman crossed herself. A psychic? Really, Sarah? Did she tell you I wasn't good enough for you? Did you tell her I'm a bum? Or is that reserved for family conversations? She just asked where we were from, where we were going. I didn't have any money for a reading.

My purse wasn't here. So preoccupied with trying to soothe his anger, I didn't notice when we pulled off the highway onto a secondary road until I heard the crunch of gravel. He pulled the car to the side of the road and got out. I sat there confused. I didn't see anything except trees in an endless stretch of gravel road. What was he doing?

Suddenly, he yanked open my door. With one swift movement, he grabbed my hair and yanked my head back while using his other hand to unfasten my seatbelt. I screamed as he hauled me from the car, dragging me into the trees. Disrespect. My feet desperately tried to find perches in the muddy soil, but he was moving too fine. abruptly he let go and I fell onto my back in a pile of wet leaves staring up at a blue Oklahoma sky he delivered a brutal kick to my stomach I curled into a fetal position sobbing

while a panting Jesse just stood there when I tried to push myself onto all fours he kicked me in the face I felt my nose break as I pitched backward into a mud hole blood filled my mouth choking me I rolled on to my side facing him and spat out pieces of my teeth. Jesse's face was ashen, scared. This wasn't some little pinch that could be hidden by my shirt. Here I'm back to the car. Something in my pocket seemed to almost burn me,

and crazily I thought of the rock and the old woman. I tried to put my hand in my pocket to touch it, but I couldn't make my fingers work right. I couldn't even get my face out of the muddy water. I placed my hand over the rock and squeezed it through the fabric of my jeans. Jesse returned with a tire iron. Just before he raised it over his head, he whispered. I wish we'd never met.

So did I. More than I'd ever wished for anything. I closed my eyes. I walked toward the bus stop enjoying the cool October day. I'd always love the fall. It took me a moment, but I realized exactly where I was. I stopped and touched my nose, which was smooth and straight. and my mouth tasted like juicy fruit gum instead of blood and dirt.

I ran my tongue over my teeth, which were also smooth and unbroken. Stunned, I resumed walking, thinking of the old woman's words. Time and energy are fluid and infinite. There are doors and there are keys. You just have to look for them. I wasn't surprised at all when I reached down and felt the rock still in my pocket. Hey, have we met? I stifled a scream at a scream.

as I glanced up at the dark-haired boy in front of me. Jesse smiled obliviously at me, waiting for a response. I stared at him for a moment, trying to form a reply as my heart pounded in my throat. Then I shouldered him aside and continued down the sidewalk. Bitch? He stepped into the crosswalk. This time, there was no one to grab his sleeve and Yang came back to safety.

Brakes screamed, and the truck hit Jesse with a sickening thumb. I glanced back to see his body sailing into oncoming traffic, more shrieking brakes. I smiled and kept walking. When you hit the road for travel, you know how important it is to check the weather. Mother Nature can mess with your plans if you're not prepared. And in this tale, shared with us by author Arvind Veluvali, we meet a group of college friends heading to Yellowstone, that is, until a surprise blizzard forces them to change course.

Performing this tale are Dan Zepula, Lindsay Russo, Atticus Jackson, Matthew Bradford, Kristen Di Maccurio, Mike Delgado, and Peter Lewis. So hopefully you can find a B&B if the weather doesn't cooperate. Just make sure you avoid one run by the Halsteads. Everything I'm about to tell you really happened. But no matter how many times I play it over in my head, it still seems crazy. Like my own mind is playing tricks, trying to terrify me. Now, to what end, I'm not sure.

Despite what my rational brain tells me, I can't help but feel that the conclusion I've reached is the right one. I guess what I'm looking for here is someone to tell me I'm wrong, some confirmation that I'm just being paranoid. God, I hope that's the case. You can call me Teddy. I grew up near Boston Mass, but I'm currently a sophomore at Stanford. My college experience kicked off great, by which I mean it was all online.

Fucking COVID. Despite the unfortunate circumstances, I was able to make a few friends, fellow cardinals who were, like me, e-learning from Boston. Let's call them Jay Setti and Jamie Boone. When Stanford gave us the go-ahead to return to campus this fall, the three of us decided to room together. The first three months of the school year were pretty typical, or as typical as they could be in the middle of a global pandemic.

Then Thanksgiving rolled around. It's a short break, not worth returning all the way to the East Coast, especially with Omicron on the rise. So, Jay, Boone, and I all decided to road trip to Yellowstone instead. Boone's girlfriend, Jamie Slater, decided to tag along too. After loading up on snacks, the four of us piled into my old Subaru and headed off for Wyoming. Now, believe it or not,

I've never been a big road trip guy. Growing up on the East Coast, most things were an Amtrak ride away, and we flew for everything else. Slater, who was from Chicago, was the expert. She taught us road trip games like bug spotting and Battle of the Bands

and emceived rounds of I Spy and 21 questions. Jay and I took turns driving while Boone was in charge of the music. Nine hours in, and somewhere in Idaho, spirits were high. That is, until Jay tapped me on the shoulder with a concerned look on his face.

Looks like there's a storm warning. He showed me a weather report on his phone. Yeah, came out of nowhere. I glanced at the navigation system. Well, we're still five hours from the lodge. You think we can just drive through it? It looks pretty serious. They're expecting a foot of snow.

Well, if we stop, we'll just be snowed in, right? I heard a throat clear in the back seat. Our road trip expert had an opinion to share. We should take a break. You two have been driving for long enough anyways. There's plenty of time. Let's just find a place to hunker down for the night and resume driving in the morning. I relented and directed Jay to search for lodging. There were no hotels nearby, but Jay found an Airbnb about 10 miles down the road. He made a reservation just as the storm began. Now, like I said, I'm from Boston. I'm used to snow, but I'd never seen so much of it come down so quickly. It felt almost apocalyptic. My visibility went to near zero almost immediately, and I could feel the tires sliding underneath us. The skid warning on the dash lit up, dangerously orange.

I gripped the steering wheel tighter, trying to maintain control, with my palms dripping with sweat. It was deathly silent inside the car. Everyone could feel us going into a fish tail. Hold on, guys. I strained with the wheel until, finally, the car righted. I stopped, panting.

Everyone okay? Nod's all around. Still, the tension hung thick in the air. Hey, Slater, I spy with my little eye, something big and white. The storm? Nope, he's sitting right next to you. Fuck you, dude.

All of us burst out laughing. I turned on my hazards and proceeded slowly to the destination. We almost didn't see the house from the road. It was Slater's keen eye that saw the glint of the mailbox, telling me that we'd arrived. The house was a mid-sized single-floor cabin located on the edge of a pine forest. Snow had already piled high on the roof. There was a gravel driveway, and I eased in.

You sure this is the place? I put the car in park but left the key in the room. the ignition. Something seemed off to me, but I couldn't put my finger on what it was exactly. It was like stepping into an electric field, a frisson of energy making the hairs on my arms stand up like little soldiers. It matches the picture on Airbnb. Come on, I'm freezing. We unloaded our luggage and knocked on the door. Two people answered. They were both white, each of them no younger than 80. The woman was short and hunched with the the pair of spectacles resting on a chain around her neck.

Her husband was tall and wiry, with dark searching eyes. There was an oxygen tube snaking down from his nose and into a canister he held by his side. Welcome. We're the Haldsteads. I'm Mave and this is Julian. Please, come in. We entered the house. It smelled like old people, a faint yet noticeable mustiness. Make yourselves at home.

Jay and I carried our bags to the windowless bedroom that the four of us would share. There were two queen-sized beds with an attached bathroom. I'll let you get settled. Mave's footsteps retreated back to the living room. Jay turned to the group. Well, what do you think? It's not the Ritz, that's for sure. But it's fine for the night.

It hit me then, how tired I was from driving. I changed into sweatpants and an old hoodie while the rest of the group went out into the kitchen to make some of the craft that they brought along. When I joined them in the kitchen, I was surprised to see Mave there, presiding over a pot steaming on the stove. Ah, Teddy, you're just in time. I frowned. I did not remember telling her my name. Just in time for what? Hot cocoa, silly. I just made a batch for your friend. It's my own special recipe.

Here, this is for you. She handed me a mug. Let me know if you want anything else. I'm just finishing up this macaroni for all of you. She turned back to the stove. I'm lactose intolerance, so this much milk and cream would leave me on the toilet for the rest of the trip. I glanced over at Jay.

His own mug was freshly empty. Trade? I mouthed. And we swapped mugs. Night fell as we finished dinner, and we helped Mave clean up and headed to bed. The others were out within minutes. Surprisingly, I was wide awake. I listened to the house creak and groan as the storm raged outside.

It was like a demon howling to be let into the house. I rose from bed. Maybe a glass of water would help me drift off. I opened the door and headed for the kitchen. Something stopped me in my tracks. Snow was cascading down outside the windows, transforming the world into a sea of white. I could barely make out the dark tree trunks through the blizzard. But there was something strange emanating from the trees.

It was a red light, as bright as a flare, and it pulsed gently, in and out, in and out. Who could be out there at a time like this, I wondered. Maybe it was Julian, but what would he be doing out in the woods? I heard a floorboard creaked beside me, and I nearly leapt out of my skin. Julian, you scared me. Julian frowned. He was dressed in a nightshirt, which was unbuttoned and showed off his chest, with muscles like thin ropes stretched across his sternum.

His oxygen tube dangled like a vine from his nose. I noticed a shotgun hanging from his right hand. and fell to shudder go through me. You shouldn't wander around like that. You'll frighten me. Sorry. I couldn't help staring at the shotgun. I was just looking for some water.

I can bring you some. No, it's fine. I'll just get some from the bathroom. By the way, do you know who's in the woods? Julian's eyes narrowed. No one. There's a storm outside. case you didn't notice.

Right, it's just... I saw a red light out in the trees, like a flare? Maybe someone's in trouble. Julian shook his head. It's just your imagination. People see crazy things, and they're afraid. Julian's dark eyes bored into mine.

I knew he wouldn't hurt me, but there was something about him that made me feel uneasy. Like I was dealing with a cougar, not a man. I looked out the window. The red light had disappeared, as if it were never there at all. I turned around. Good night, Julian.

I walked towards the bedroom. He did not reply. Morning came, and the four of us headed to the kitchen to eat. I hadn't told anyone about my encounter with Julian the previous night. Thankfully, he didn't come to join us in the kitchen. Outside the windows, snow was still falling. but nothing like the previous day. We should head back to Palo Alto, today.

What about Yellowstone? Yeah, we've come this for. I looked helplessly at Slater, hoping that she would bail me out. Despite Julian's absence, I got the distinct feeling that he was listening in on our conversation. We can go back.

A lot of this coming stretch is pretty rural. We don't know whether the car will hold up in the snow. Is everything all right? I whipped around towards the hallway. It was Mave. Oh, oh, yes. We're fine. We were just thinking of heading out today.

We don't want to impose. She shook her head, suddenly stern. No, no, that won't do. The conditions outside are absolutely atrocious. No, I insist that you stay here until the roads are clear. If it's a matter of payment, I'm sure we can work something out. In fact, you can do. stay here for free, if you'd like.

That's very generous of you. I looked around at the group. Well, the snow is supposed to stop by noon. They'll probably plow the roads in the afternoon. Maeve nodded enthusiastically. It settled then. You'll stay here until it's safe outside again. I looked helplessly towards the door,

but everyone was already moving towards the couches in the living room. Maeve was going to teach them eukers, she said. reluctantly I joined Of all the decisions I've ever made I regret that one the most We passed the next few hours Playing various card games At some point

Mayve unveiled an ancient television And started playing a VHS copy Of a black and white movie Is Julian all right? Oh sweet of you to ask He's just resting He was up all night The poor thing

In fact I should go check on him. Mave stood up and walked off. On the floor beside me, Slater was nestled into Boone's shoulder. They were seemingly enjoying the film, Slater tossing pieces of popcorn into the air for Boone to catch like a seal. I decided to risk being heard. Do you guys get a weird vibe from this place?

Jay leaned in from the couch. What do you mean? Quiet. I mean, do you guys think that something is off with Mave and Julie? No, they seem like normal old people to me. Maeve reminds me my grandma. They're not normal. I went out into the kitchen last night to get some water,

and Julian was waiting for me with a shotgun. A shotgun? Teddy, that's not okay. Are you all right? I waved her off. I'm fine, but these people give me the creeps. We need to leave today. What are you four talking about? Maeve was standing right behind the couch.

She was very good. It's sneaking up on us that one. Just how much we like this movie. What's it called again? Rebecca. By the way, I made you all some hot cocoa. It's waiting in the kitchen. The four of us rose.

Slater, Boone, and Jay all took their drinks. Mave whispered to me. I noticed you didn't drink yours last time. Was it not to your liking? I shook my head. No, I'm... Lactose intolerant, my body can't handle dairy. Can't handle dairy?

What a curious thing. Still, she let the issue lie. As before, Jay drank my hot chocolate. The storm didn't pass by noon. In fact, it snowed until sunset, and the roads were as treacherous as ever. We still hadn't seen Julian. No need to rush off into all of that.

are welcome to stay the night. I'm sure that weather will clear up by the morning. My eyes were wide as I looked at my friends. Say something I wanted to plead. I knew it was crazy, but I would rather venture out into the storm than spend one more night here. Jay spoke up before I could. That's very generous of you. Come on, guys. The three of them headed towards the bedroom. I rushed to catch up with them. Jay, what the hell? We said we would and stay another night. What other option do we have? Look, I know the shotgun freaked you out,

and I'm sorry, but this isn't San Francisco. They're old, and they live in the sticks, and to them, I'm sure that toting guns around is perfectly normal. They don't want to hurt us, Teddy. I know you're scared, but I'd rather sleep here than risk dying out there on the road. Slater and Boone were nodding along with what Jay had said. Fine.

One night, but no one leave. the bedroom. We got changed and settled into bed. My friends drifted off to sleep while I remained awake. I knew Julian wouldn't break into our room. But how do you know that? I asked myself. Sometime after midnight, Slater began to stir. Boone followed, sitting slowly upright in his bed.

Beside me, Jay swung his feet off the mattress and planted them heavily on the floor. Guys, guys, it's the middle of the night. Go back to sleep. Jay stood up. I did too, and I put my hands on his shoulders to stop him from moving towards the door. His eyes stared right past me, blank and unrecognizing. Is he sleepwalking, I wondered? Are they all sleepwalking? Where are you going? You didn't hear that? Slater's voice sounded dreamy, far away as if she were asleep. Hear what? That voice. What voice? You can't hear it? Guys, are you fucking with me?

Stop fucking with me. It's telling us to follow the light. What light? Jay was trying to move, and I held him back with all my strength. Suddenly, I realized what it was. The red light. The one I had seen in the woods last night, whose existence Julian had denied.

What the fuck? is happening. I felt as though I'd fallen into a waking nightmare. I didn't know what else to do. I drew my arm back and I slapped Jay as hard as I could. He stumbled backwards and fell hard into the bed. Stay the fuck down! All of you back to bed! It must have been something in my tone because Slater and Boone seemed to snap out of it too. They got back into bed and slipped under the covers. Good, I thought, watching them. I leaned against the headboard and hugged my knees to my chest.

I was planning on staying up the whole night to enforce my edict. Slater could drive in the morning if necessary. But, despite my best efforts, I felt tiredness pulling down my eyelids like shutters. No, I thought, fight it, fight it! But I couldn't When I woke up, the door was ajar I sat bolt upright Boone was still asleep

But Jay and Slater were gone I leapt out of bed and sprinted into the kitchen My heart in my throat Jay Slater Quiet, you'll wake up the whole house I almost passed out from relief The two of them were sitting around the kitchen table Each clutching a steaming mug of Coco

You're all right. I collapsed into a chair beside Jay. I hugged him just to make sure he was really there. Yeah, of course. Are you okay, Teddy? Yeah, I'm fine. I looked out the window. The storm had stopped, leaving pillowy snow covering the ground.

I stood up. Whose footprints are those? I felt the fear surged back like a tsunami. What footprints? Those. I pointed. There were two sets of footprints heading off into the woods. Have either of you seen the halsteads? Jay shook his head. I went back to the bedroom and donned my heavy winter coat. Come on. Where are you going? To follow those footprints, you come in with or not? Jay sighed with exasperation. He went to grab his jacket, walking out wearing boons instead. It's fine. Let's go. The two of us headed outside, the snow swallowing our boots up to the calf. We followed the trail of footprints as they led into the woods. It was eerily quiet among the pines as though they were mourners at a wake.

I kept looking through the trees as though at any moment Julian would burst out with his shotgun and put two in my chest. I stopped. Don't come any closer. Go back to the house and call the police. Jay said nothing. I heard his footsteps crunching through the ice and snow as he ran back. I knelt down and felt the cold stinging my face.

Mave and Julian were lying in the snow ten yards ahead. Each of them was partially buried, but I could see that they were naked. I stood and approached them. They were clearly dead, their skin bluish. Their eyes were open and glassy. Their mouths were open too, and there were wormy trails of blue. blood dribbling from their lips. It almost looked like they were smiling. The police arrived an hour later, two male detectives who interrogated each of us separately. I was the last to be

interviewed. I barely remember what they asked. When it was over, the detective told me that I was free to go. We think it was hypothermia. The victims were found nude. It's pretty common in these sorts of cases. The victims get disoriented, confused, think they're burning when they're really freezing, so they strip. It's unfortunate, really. They seemed like nice people. We all got back in the car, too stunned to say anything. It was an unspoken agreement that Yellowstone was no longer happening. We would return to Stanford immediately. Still, I wanted to ease the tension. Hey Slater, I spy with my little eye, something big and white. I saw her frown through the rear view.

What are you talking about? I spy. Remember? Something big and white? She nodded. Oh, right. Is it the snow? It's me, babe. I think the joke is getting old, Teddy. When we got back to Stanford, it was as though the experience with the Halsteads had driven an invisible wedge between us. Jay and Slater seemed especially distant, hardly ever responding to invitations to hang out or grab food. A week after we returned, I found Boone sitting in the dark inside our room.

Is everything all right? Slater broke up with me. I sat down on the floor next to him. What happened? She told me she didn't love me. It came out of nowhere. He was silent for a moment. moment. Do you think there's something going on with her and Jay? What do you mean? You haven't noticed?

They've been spending a lot of time together. I didn't think it was a big deal, but, well, I heard from one of her friends that she was considering dropping out with Jay. That doesn't seem like her, does it? Or him either. Yeah, they have been acting strange since Idaho. Look, let me talk to Slater, see what's really going on. Boone nodded. You're a good friend, Teddy. I texted Slater that day, and she agreed to meet me for dinner at Tressetor Union. I arrived a few minutes late, just after seven. Slater was standing outside wearing a skirt.

I didn't even know she owned a skirt. Slater! Hey, Slater! She didn't reply. My stomach began to fill with ice. A theory began to form inside my head. No. I thought. No, it's too crazy. Still, I had to try it. Mave! She turned around and smiled at me. The ice was freezing around my heart now. I felt my heart sputter inside my chest as though at any minute it was going to stop beating. Sweat beat on my brow. Slater approached me.

Are you all right, Teddy? You look like you just saw a go. I noticed myself backing away from her just a bit. It's nothing. Let's eat. Hills have dispersed this night. Poetic works from darkness alight. We leave you with this a question on a theme. Is all that we see or seem but a dream within a dream?

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