Myth Tour

Light be-smirks outline where the edges blur and form dissolves to shadow. I squint, at dusk, what a trivial action. The sun, tucking its final glow tidily behind the mountain, turns over embers to warm the other side. Unchallenged, frigid dark overtakes the riverbed.

“Where did you guys go?”

The din of insect chirps, irreverent to my plea, grows in concert with the river’s voice. A night-time bird’s song cackles overall.

“April! Matty! Where are you?”

Sshhick! ……… Sshhick!

Sharp, deliberate scraping sounds overhead. Once…, twice…, I strain to hear anything but arthropods.

A slivered moon fails to illuminate and gives, despondent, to accumulating masses of black clouds.

Eyes to the skies in reckless distraction I miss the warning falls of cobbles from above until too late:

Plummeting down toward me a large dark form shrieks and howls in most awful depravity, Iike rabid livestock.

Backward wheeling, stomach gurgling, I screech excitedly despite myself at Matty’s feigned attack.

He seems pleased with himself.

“Ha! Oh man you were so scared of just lil’ ol rocks rubbing together! Matty leers. Then without turning from his phone screen, “Hope you got that angle, April!”

Shielding Matty’s flashlight from my eyes, along with the stupid toothy grin spread across his face, I see April scrambling down from their hiding spot. She slips and hits her knee on unforgiving rock, I hear a crack. Impressively, she takes a minute and then gets up without a word. Matty is none the wiser.

“I wish this was streaming live! You’re going to be viral!” Waving his phone around like he’ll get a signal, knowing there is none.

“No, Mathew, I am not. That will be deleted. We’re not supposed to be here.” He doesn’t seem influenced by my voice.

April pushes ahead, I almost can’t see her limp.

“Are we almost there? I thought you said it was right after the river forks?”

April had been listening at the bar then. Maybe I’d misjudged her.

“Yes, April, you are almost done.”

April poses as a muscle woman, blood streaming down her leg while Matty takes her picture, he has me angle the flash light.

Truly a shot worthy of memorial.

“This last part is the steepest. Stay close and stop fucking around.”

The pair giggle.

“I think we paid enough for your illegal tour that we can fuck off as we wish” jabs Matty.

“Oh come on, be nice” quips April, “I think she actually believes the stories.” Her tone playful but not jeering.

“There’s no way she really thinks there’s a cannibal in a cave up here! She’s just exploiting the story, same as us. Am I right?” He asks, juicy index pointed at my nose.

“You are a fool. Up there, now, use the rope,” I order.

The pair giggles again, awkwardly.

“Start climbing, I’ll take your picture.”

Vainly obligated, they ascend slick rock face, consenting to ropes of sketchy fortitude and reeking decay. The camera flashes and I capture his sapphire wink, her painted-pink smile.

As promised, this part is steep. Poses and personas pause and we place each step with care, pace at a crawl lest we peril to the water falling away with the cliff. A bludgeoning wind wails we fall away too. I shepherd from behind.

April sees it first.

“A cave! It’s here, we made it!” She’s breathing in short, sharp pulls of air.

She’s really quite palatable, sporting blood and eager. “Hurry up, Mathew we’re here!” Her voice throws confidence.

Lumbering Mr. Mathew, whoops and rambles close behind his mate. They kiss a-front the threshold, pull out their phones then record their kiss again.

“I’ll be right there with the ropes.” I’m not sure if they hear me.

No wind breaches inside the cave, complete silence echoes heart beats in ear drums.

“Camryn still has my flashlight,” Matty realizes.

Cellular beams dart about the cave, too meek to penetrate the size of dark within and so they creep curiously deeper.

Sshhick! ……… Sshhick!

“Matty…”

April’s voice fails as something clicks and chirps in the vaulted ceiling. Frozen, thick silence conceals their company. Immobile. Waiting. Sour air curling nostrils.

“Let’s go get the flashli…”

The vast pitch swallows April’s cry as hungry bats begin their hunt. Matty’s cell light spins dramatically to a halt several feet away, having failed as a propelled weapon. Their laughter pleads relief.

“Check this out.”

Matty’s phone beacons atop a stinking mattress. A morgue of phones rest there. The first two phones do not turn on but the third screen flickers to light in April’s hands.

The lock screen blares a happy couple suspending rock face. So does the next phone, this couple is hanging upside down from their ropes like hogs in a slaughter house, smiling and waving.

“We need to leave, right now” hisses April.

“No, stay a while.” I can’t surpress my glee.

Clicking the flashlight on, I direct the beam into Matty’s eyes and kick-in April’s injured knee as hard as I can. She screams but Matty is too slow and I smash my sharpened stone into his skull and drop him with skillful efficiency.

My beam of light finds April’s slithering retreat. Her salivatory screams endure through binding wrist and ankles, finally muted by rotten rope wrapped tightly around her lips. She’ll keep fresher alive.

Sshhick! ……… Sshhick!

I sharpen my tools of harvest and wonder of tonight’s myth barer(s): where would they go to plead witness the screams of the forest cried out with the river? To whom would curiosity call?