Recorded April 19, 2017, 12:51 a.m.
The phone records only flat black. The sound of footsteps and breathing can be heard.
KYLE: I can’t see anything. I can’t even see the screen.
TRINA: Just hold on. That’s—that’s—
KYLE: Twelve. One more. You can do it.
TRINA: I can do it? Isn’t this hard for you?
KYLE: I’ve kind of got a lot of practice lately ignoring my brain’s bad ideas.
Trina laughs, a strangled sound, and then light floods into the camera. Everything is a blur as it adjusts; the forest is dimly lit when it settles, Anthony and Sara barely shadows ahead.
ANTHONY: Are you guys okay? Did you let go?
KYLE: Trina kept trying. Nice to finally be better at something than my sister.
TRINA: Shut up. Crap. I feel like I’m going to puke.
SARA: Me too. The others—
As if on cue, Jeremy, Mel, and Miranda stumble out of the wall of darkness. Jeremy pulls free of Mel with a string of curses, and vomits, bending over the side of the stone road. Mel sinks into a crouch, hands over her eyes, and Miranda steps away, pulls into herself.
Silence falls. Waiting gains a sharp edge. Mel is breathing through her teeth, gaze tipped up toward the stars. Sara wraps her arms around her middle, her hair hanging in front of her face, staring at the wall of dark. Ten seconds pass. Twenty. Thirty.
ANTHONY: Maybe we should go back in. They might have—you almost got lost, Sara.
TRINA: What?
ANTHONY: She let go.
SARA: I didn’t let go. I don’t think I let go.
ANTHONY: One of us did. The point is you went out ahead without me.
Sara swallows, nervous. But Trina’s expression betrays only concern.
TRINA: Are you okay? What happened?
SARA: There was something—there was a hand, and I thought it was Anthony’s, but it wasn’t. It tried to lead me off the road. But I got away. I got back to Anthony. We both made it through.
Nick and Vanessa step out of the darkness. Nick lets out a groan of relief.
SARA: There you are. Everyone made it, then. We’re all fine.
JEREMY: Hold on. We need to talk about this. You two let go. The rules said not to do that.
SARA: Maybe—maybe something was going to happen, but it didn’t because I got away.
JEREMY: Or we’re all going to get hook-massacred because you couldn’t follow a simple rule.
ANTHONY: Lay off. We’re safe. That’s what matters.
The camera has been focused tightly on the three of them. Now it swings around to capture the rest of the group. Mel has gotten to her feet, though she still looks queasy. Miranda has moved farther out ahead of the group, looking down the dark road ahead. Nick and Vanessa stand with their heads together, hands linked. Vanessa is whispering something, and Nick nods.
KYLE: You guys okay?
Nick takes a breath, looking indecisive.
VANESSA: Hm? Yeah. We’re fine. That was terrifying, though. I tripped and almost let go. And I lost my stupid glasses.
She squeezes Nick’s hand, smiles at him. He gives her a shallow nod.
TRINA: Are you going to be all right without them?
VANESSA: I’m not totally blind without them. I can tell where everything is, it’s just super blurry. I mean, don’t ask me to read anything, but I’m not going to walk into a tree.
KYLE: Oh, shit. Look.
The camera focuses on the landscape behind Nick and Vanessa. The phone’s flashlight barely pierces the darkness, but beyond it they can see the formless black is gone, and the teens stand just on the other side of the iron gate, at a distance of perhaps a dozen steps. No more.
Trina laughs, a high, nervous sound.
TRINA: Are we sure it’s too late to go back?
Behind them, farther down the road, someone screams.