Adam tossed and turned in his sleeping bag. The forest has always been my haven. A place I could let my guard down. He rolled over. Moira slept soundly beside him, her hair a spray of red tangles. I don’t know how I’m supposed to protect her. I can’t even protect myself.
Something passed through the door in the shack.
The ghost stood, looking down on him. Moonlight streamed through its body and almost washed it out completely. Baggy jeans and a checkered shirt hung on a gaunt frame. Its eyes were hollowed and fathomless.
Adam tensed, his body icy cold. “Get out,” he whispered.
It turned from him and wandered around the shack aimlessly for several minutes. As it passed through shards of moonlight, its image appeared and disappeared like the flickering of a silent film.
Adam sat up, his hand lingering at the edge of Moira’s sleeping bag. If it even begins to make its way over here again…
Finally, the ghost passed through the door the way it came.
He released a pent-up breath and lay back down again, his body tense. This isn’t going to work out the way I planned. And, like Moira, I don’t have a Plan B either. He moved his sleeping bag closer to Moira and placed his hand lightly on her hip.
She rolled over sleepily. “You okay?”
“Bad dream.” He let out a small sigh and shook his head. “No, that’s a lie.” Adam gave her an earnest look. “That ghost was here. It left.”
She studied him for a moment. Taking his hand in hers, she pulled him closer.
Adam buried his face against her neck.