Meet Me In The Woods

Logan breathed deeply, letting the autumn air flood his lungs. The hillside on which he stood was alight-bursts of red, yellow, and orange leaves coated the landscape, one of Maine’s primary tourist draws. He had selected a hiking trail through these beautiful trees as a meeting place. Pacing up and down a small stretch of the dirt path, he waited for Emma.

He had slept in a clearing not for from the trail last night, unwilling to venture back to town in the dark. Emma had agreed to meet him here, close to the main road but far enough into the tree line for them to not be seen by passing vehicles. Unlike Logan, she wasn’t familiar with the forest; having only moved to Buckner, Maine, a few months ago, Emma had never shown an interest in the wilderness.

As a breeze shifted the leaves around his feet, he shuddered and pulled his thick flannel jacket tighter around his shoulders. Logan was used to the cold, having spent all twenty-two years of his life in Northern Maine. His childhood here had been uneventful. His parents, owners of a local bed and breakfast, had provided him with a pleasant enough youth and sufficient attention. He had kept out of trouble in school, with average grades and a spot on the football team. He was an average kid- almost forgettable.

Nothing in his childhood had prepared him for the last few months, and nothing ever could have prepared him for meeting Emma. He would never forget the day he met her. It had been just another night spent at the bar in town, having a beer with a friend he’d known since he was a kid. She walked through the door, and everything stopped. Purple eye shadow framed deep green eyes, and her long black hair hung loosely around her shoulders. She had gone up and sat right next to Logan at the bar, fearlessly introducing herself. She was from Florida, she had come to Maine last week, and she was nineteen. She had confidently pulled out a fake ID from Georgia, ordering herself a whiskey on the rocks. Logan had been helpless.

Feeling more nervous by the minute, he began to fiddle with the buttons on his shirt. It was a habit that that had driven his mother crazy when he was younger; occasionally he would get so nervous that he would wear out a button and lose it. The shirt he was wearing now was missing three buttons.

Hearing a sound in the branches behind him, he spun on one heel to face the trail head. A crow burst from the leaves not ten feet away, signaling the approach of a man and dog from the main road. He looked about sixty five years old, slightly stooped and walking slowly with the golden retriever beside him. Logan thought he recognized him from town. The man gave him a nod as he approached, and Logan tried hard to dig up a polite smile.

“Morning.” The man stopped directly in front of Logan, the dog curiously sniffing around his heavy boots. Logan merely nodded in return. “You hear about the attack last night? Gotta be careful out here alone.”

Logan kept his voice steady. “No, sir. Hadn’t heard about any attack.”

He kept his ice blue eyes level with the old man’s. “Well, they found a guy not too far from here this morning, they think maybe a bear got him. I wouldn’t be out hiking today without Arthur here.” He said, indicating the dog.

Logan nodded. “Well thanks for the tip, sir. I’ll be sure to be careful.”

The man gave him a last wary glance, nodded in return, and continued up the trail. Logan raked his hands through his hair, and checked his watch for the hundredth time. Emma was now an hour late.

***

It had been a few years since John Lewis had seen such a brutal case. He had worked as the coroner in Buckner for over twenty years, and had rarely encountered cases involving bear attacks. Luckily for him, and the general public, the city had done a good job of educating tourists about the dangers of hiking in the woods. The few incidents he had dealt with had all been rough, but there was something different with this one.

As if the bear attack victim wasn’t enough, Dr. Lewis had another body in the morgue this morning. The girl had been brought in around 5am that morning, an obvious drug overdose. The sheriff had walked into Dr. Lewis’s office as he was starting the paperwork for her autopsy.

Sheriff Lincoln Peters, like Dr. Lewis, was a lifelong resident of Buckner. He had seen some tough cases, but had been enjoying the lack of crime in recent years. Things had been changing though; in just the last few months, people had been showing up from down south. The sheriff had watched helplessly as things had slowly gone downhill. Drugs like heroin and meth had been popping up in the local schools, and residents had informed him that a small group of people had been dealing out of the town’s main bar. He had been doing everything he could to stem the flow, but the girl in the morgue wasn’t the first to overdose in the last few weeks.

“Busy day, John.” Sheriff Peters sat down in a chair across from the cold metal desk. The coroner nodded solemnly.

“I was just getting started on the paperwork. Come on, we can head in and go over all the details.” They walked into the morgue, two tables in the center covered with white-sheeted figures. “The first one here is the young woman.” He pulled back the sheet to reveal her face for the sheriff. “Don’t know if you recognize her, her wallet was found with her but her ID is an obvious fake. We’re still working on identity.” The sheriff looked down at the girl’s closed eyes, lids darkened by purple eye shadow. Glossy black hair spilled around her pale shoulders.

“She does look familiar. I’ve seen her around, but I couldn’t tell you her name. I’ll start asking around as soon as I get back to the station.”

Dr. Lewis nodded, and pulled the sheet back up to cover her. “It was heroin. They found her back behind the bar, needle still in her arm.” He paused before looking over at the second slab. “Now this one, you’d better prepare yourself a little more.”

He pulled the sheet down to the man’s waist, revealing a chest covered in deep gashes. It took Sheriff Peters a moment, but he noticed what had caught the coroner’s eye earlier in the day.

The man, who looked to be about twenty five, had been bound at the wrists. The raw rope burns around his arms were visible through the numerous cuts.

“He was found in a clearing near the trail just above town. No wallet, just shreds of clothing.”

“I know this one- Tate Samuels, he isn’t a local but he’s been around the bar a fair bit. Once I start asking around I’m sure I can make a connection to find out who he is.”

“Alright, Sheriff. I’ll let you get on it, and I need to finish my work here. Keep me in the loop.” They shook hands and exchanged tired glances as Sheriff Peters walked out of the room. Dr. Lewis pulled the sheet back over the man and closed the door.

***

Logan was pacing on the trail as the sun passed the highest point in the sky. He had gone over what he would say to Emma dozens of times in his head, but he was struggling to think of a reason why she would be late. He would tell her it wasn’t his fault. That the man had come at him first; that he hadn’t had a choice, the deal had gone bad.

As the wind picked up, Logan decided he couldn’t wait any longer. Leaves swirled around his legs as he ran for his truck, parked near the tree line at the trail head. He took one last long look at the hillside before slamming the door shut and starting the engine.

An hour later, he was crossing the border into Canada. Next to him on the passenger seat sat a backpack full of clothing, a paper bag with food and supplies, and a leather wallet. The ID inside the wallet read Tate Samuels, and Logan used it as he crossed the border.