The Hole — Chapter 5

A Novel of Supernatural Apocalypse

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Elliot followed as the men dipped through streams, huffed over little hills, and jogged across a meadow. He got tight in his gut, thinking maybe this was a mistake, that he should have stuck to the path and seen where the cart tracks led.

Elliot held his course, praying they’d get where they were going soon. His stomach rumbled and his mouth felt dry. Every step he took deeper into the mountains, away from the road, was closer to getting dangerously lost. It might’ve been better, he thought, to stay by the truck and wait for Evajean to come back. But it was too late for that now.

Eventually they stopped. The terrain had grown denser, more rugged, and older. Thick trees, bent and weathered, grew between large rocks smothered with lichen. Near one of the rocks the man with the hat called a halt. He raised his hand to the others, crouched down, and brushed away moss and branches, revealing a gap between stone and ground. Elliot watched from behind his own large rock near the top of one of the small hills that formed a shallow valley.

Looking down he could see the group fan out around their leader. They spoke quickly and excitedly. Elliot wished he could hear what they were saying, but the…