12.08.02 - 1:04 am

it was dark. darkness blanketed thick with fog. alone and isolated from the road by yards of dying grass and a battlefield of mole hills, russell and i hastily attempted to cut through the steel beams of a blackberry bush. icy air hindered our efforts. the flashlight kit had no functioning light. the screwdriver part of the screwdriver flew from the handle into the abyss of the ground. russell used his wits to fashion pliers as pair of twisting machete scissors. i crept farther down the brambles, darkness stealing the comfort of the dim light i had as a guide. i found a plush grove of leaves and suddenly heard a rustle of a jacket somewhere behind me. my eyes shot blindly in the darkness of a thicket behind me, my anxiety needing to locate the sound of potential bodily harm. and then i saw it. unmoving and silent amongst the clutter of branches and darkness, a silhouette of a man standing. watching. his shape barely discernable, yet causing a burst of fear to ignite my flight response. i fled to the safety of russells side, only to see the figure slither from the thicket of dark, the light teasing his face just enough to tell who lurked beyond the reaches of the dark. my fear didnt fail me. it was him.

gary burt ferngren.