Setting: 1st Cove at 11pm, no moon
Small crowd, 1 lights out tent, 5 person tipsy group around their fire, our fire with Bob and I (and for a while two other guys), and a small dwindled fire 50yds away.
We begin to hear yelling. Not an argument, just one person. Something along the lines of "I'm sick of this," "I'm leaving." Around every 5min you hear a disgruntled comment, yell, growl, whatever, but only from one unseen guy.
Things still go on, us just thinking a drunk argument or something.
"Chris, F this you can walk home." and more ramblings.
Yelling guy's F-150 starts up and and tries to go up steep left hill with dog in back. Sits there for a bit at the base of the hill, turns around, and drives away.
We get to wondering what's up b/c who was he arguing with?
He comes back 10min later and starts honking horn, long and repeatedly.
Getting an odd vibe here.
Guys yells some stuff and leaves again.
Guy comes back 10min later parks, jumps out yells, some more, "Have it your way, Chris, you can walk home. Don't call me, I'm leaving your stuff!" Throws out a duffle bag, and as he drives away stops and asks someone if they've seen a girl with a dog.
Well at least we know he's not talking to the dog now. But wasn't there already a dog in his truck?
About 10 minutes go by, truck returns to area of bag drop. Can't tell what's going on, but now Bob and I have now discussed several story options trying to figure the whole thing out. Bob's gun is out. If the bag is still there we are going to check it. All but one of the people next to us are in their tent now.
Guys yells more, gets in his truck and as he's driving out again, stops and asks the lone camp guy if he's seen a girl with a bag. Camper says "No, sorry man, how old is she?"
Irrate guy responds, "What the F does that matter, either you've seen her or you haven't!" Jumps in truck and drives away.
Bob and I approach camper guy and try to see what's up and share story details. We take camperman and his flashlight and look around the area where yeller had been. We talk about scenarios while looking for a dead girl named Chris.
Did he kill Chris here? Maybe try to kill her and she barely got away badly bleeding somewhere?
Did he actually kill Chris at home, then drive out to nowhere but invent an alabi for himself that campers would have to say he was there with a woman, she got lost, but he tried to no avail to find her?
Was there even a Chris? Around the glowing embers from his fire is one solitary beer bottle. No one but him and his one vehicle was ever seen.
We continue looking around for a body. The bag that was thrown from the truck is not even there anymore. What is going on? New guy is pretty freaked coming up with his own story lines (a little buzzed still from his weed none the less). We finally give up the one small flashlight search. Bob and I will head a different direction out, we tell new guy not to be surprised if a bloody girl named Chris tries to get in his tent during the night. He says with big eyes nothing like that better happen.
Bob and I drive up the hill out of the cove, halfway expecting to see a dark lump in the road or something. Bob tells me to stop asking questions like "Do dead peoples eyes reflect back?"
We get to the top of the hill and an odd thought pops into my head.
"Bob, do want me to sceam like a girl?"
"Sure."
I lean out of the window and let out a blood curling (but totally non gay) scream as Bob continues driving.
"Wait Bob! Stop what's that."
"Dude shut up."
"No seriously, stop."
I heard it again.
"Shhh"
Bob kills the engine.
And then all we hear is the camperman below us down at the coves, out of tent now, franticly shouting at the top of his loungs, "Hey!!! Lady!!!!!!!!! H-H-Heyyyy!! L-Lady!!!!!
The kind of request shout you can tell does not whole heartedly want an answer to, but must call out just the same.
We hear the voice with perfect clarity bouncing up the canyon walls, first here then there, closer now, farther, steady calling in that broken scared voice. Minutes pass and the voice still calls. Wavering only once but in that silence we here him rouse his campmates and a quick muttering of a midnight's story. The calls start back up with the same, if not more intensity.
Bob and I think it at the same time, but both know it may take it to far. Should we yell, "Chris, don't you turn your back on me! Chris don't you ever f-ing turn...!"
*Gunshot* *Gunshot*
Tires spin and headlights spill.