A Walk In The Park

"There weren't always dragons in the Valley." Said Scott.

"What am I suppose to do with a line like that? Hell, we're nowhere near a valley, we're in the middle of the woods!" I respond.

Scott gives me his half-smile, "I'm just saying in a roundabout way that nothing exists until it does."

I roll my eyes, "yeah and nothing makes a sound until we hear it."

"Now, you've got it."

I let out a deep, slow sigh. We're in the middle of the woods, hiking a trail through a National Park in the midwest. I'm not even sure why I agreed to this because we're here over rumors and whispers about this specific trail. Rumors and whispers from customers traveling through. We both work for the National Park Service, I'm in the Visitor Center and Scott is a backcountry ranger. Both of us are only here for the summer, I've worked for several parks, Scott and I met last summer, at a different park and just happened to get on to the same one for this summer.

My name is Destiny, or Des as people like to call me, a gypsy by genetics and unable to stay put which is why I love this gig so much. Scott is only a few years older than I, we're both single, have no kids, and love the outdoors as well as travel. He had heard the rumors and whispers of this trail too but it wasn't until he ran into a couple hiking that rumors were starting to become a reality. I had heard the same story from the same couple and I'm not so easily convinced but one thing we agree on, is that something happened out here, something that scared them straight back to the trailhead and never look back.

"Des."

I shake my head slightly shaking away the thoughts that are filling my head, "yeah?"

"Honestly, what do you think they saw?"

"Well, technically, they didn't 'see' anything. They only heard something and that something was loud and it made the woods go quiet. I think it was an animal they weren't used to hearing and it was being territorial because of a young one that was probably nearby."

Scott nods his head and continues to look ahead, he is quiet but curious about all that is around us. "Do I dare ask what your thoughts are?"

He smiles slightly and lets out a low chuckle. "I think that your opinion is validated and that there was something out here that was being territorial."

"I sense a but coming on."

"But..." He turns and gives me a wink, "both of them have been out here several times. They know the wildlife and they know the sounds, plus they live in an area that thrives on seclusion so why would this sound make them run? IF it was just another animal being territorial."

A gentle breeze blows past us and I let out a slow breathe and take in the vast trees that tower above us. A look off my shoulder shows the darkness and depth that they consume. It is quiet, barely the sound of birds can be heard, and the sun is only visible through the small cracks that are opened by the breeze. I turn back to look ahead, the trail continues to twist and turn as far as the eye can see. "Your thinking bigfoot, right?"

He doesn't answer. A long silence falls between us and we continue to walk on. Several minutes pass before he says, "if not him, then who?"

I shrug, "someone with a sick sense of humor. I've been told rituals use to take place out here."

"Really? Why out here?"

"Can't get any more seclusion and closeness to nature than a National Park. But again, just another rumor, no evidence has ever been found."

"It's a long trail and people do go off of it, I could see this area being used for black magic." He adds a sinical laugh at the end.

I let out a sigh, "true magic is neither black or white, it is both because nature is both. It is the intention that turns it into something negative or positive."

He turns his head towards me, "spoken like a true Wiccan."

"Damn straight."

The trail begins to climb and we're almost to the point where they claim to have heard this noise, a little stopping point that hikers use to take in the view and catch their breath. Below a stream runs low and through the trees is a natural opening that lets you take in the vast mountains that surround you. We reach the top and stop, looking around, listening, and waiting.

"Nothing feels different," I say.

He nods, "yeah I feel the same. Just another stop on the trail."

I nod, still looking around, I glance down at the ground and something flashes in the dark a few feet below us. "What's that?" I ask and quickly move off the trail and down towards the water.

"What is what?" He asks and begins to follow.

There at the bottom of the slope, is a worn-down section of the grounds and the item that flashed is nothing less than a gun casing. I squat down and pick it up, examine it as I do. Scott is now next to me, leaning over and looking. "Tell me this isn't what I know it is."

He chuckles, "don't ask what you already know."

"Who in the hell is firing a gun in the National Park?"

"If it had been a ranger it would have been reported and there haven't been any. So we're talking civilian."

I shake my head, "this is why they shouldn't be allowed to carry them in here...or anywhere for that matter."

"Yeah, I..." he stops suddenly, quiet. I drop the casing into my palm and look over towards him, he has moved away and is making turns in a squat position, examing the ground.

"What? What is it?"

He stands up, "stand up and look at the ground around your feet."

I do as he says, and when I look around my eyes go wide, not just one but several casings are spread all over the ground. Multiple shots were fired and they were fired in different directions. "This looks like a firing range."

"Yeah, someone was shooting scared. Trying to protect themself."

"Why wasn't this reported? This many shots, someone, somewhere would have heard them."

He walks over to the corner of the open section, "unless whoever did the shooting never made it."

My breath catches in my throat and with a shaky voice I ask, "what makes you say that?"

He motions me over to him and I walk over, he points towards the ground, "that."

I follow his finger and there on the ground is a piece of fabric with spots of red on the edges. "Oh, no," I whisper.

"I think we just stumbled into a crime scene."