Beau snorted.
“You’re insufferable,” I laughed.
“We’ve got eyewitnesses, camera traps, audio gear, and six people with varying degrees of courage and common sense,” Shane said. “Beau—you wanna give us some local flavor?”
Beau winced, keeping his eyes on the road. “Oh, I don’t know…”
“With us is local underwear model and cryptid wrangler, Beau Ward,” Shane said. “He’s going to tell us all about the local legends surrounding the Gloamstrider.”
Beau huffed a breath but played along, adjusting hisgrip on the wheel. “Alright, fine. The Gloam’s the part of the woods most people stay out of. Real dense stretch of forest, lot of fog, lot of stories. Time gets funny in there. Paths disappear. Some people swear they’ve seen figures, or lights, or heard voices that weren’t supposed to be there.”
“Has anyone ever gone missing?” Shane asked, eyes lighting up.
Beau shrugged. “Not officially. Few hunters got turned around, came back rattled…they say some folks have gone missing, but it’s more story than anything else.”
I turned around in my seat. “You know this is how atonof horror movies start,” I said. “Somebody’s gonna find this in ten years and sell the script to A24, while we rot in some monster’s den.”
“Noelle, if anyone is in danger here, it’s me,” Shane said. “I mean—you’re the final girl, obviously. I’m the instantly lovable gay best friend who dies first.”
I snorted. “You’re not instantly lovable.”
“Wow,” Shane said, clutching his chest like I’d stabbed him. “I’m wounded…but you’re not wrong.”
Beau reached over to turn down the radio, the sound of an old country song fading beneath his fingers. “If anyone dies first, it’s the guy who says he doesn’t believe in any of it,” he said, glancing at me with a grin. “So maybe Holden should watch his back.”
“Great,” I muttered. “That means I have to babysit both of you now.”
Shane was already leaning toward the mic again. “For the record, we are not actually expecting to die. This is a controlled environment. We have water, flashlights, a GPS beacon, and at least three people with basic survival knowledge.”
“Including Beau,” I added. “Who could probably wrestle a bear if he had to.”
“I’m not wrestling a bear,” Beau said calmly.
“You could, though.”
He just shrugged, which I took as confirmation.
Shane’s voice dropped again, going full spooky narrator. “Stay tuned, listeners. In the next segment, we’ll head into the Gloam, set up camp, and see if we can’t find evidence of the Gloamstrider itself. Audio will resume after we reach the trailhead and get settled.”
He clicked off the recorder and immediately went back to riffling through his bag, muttering something about batteries again.
I stared out the window, watching the forest grow darker and denser as the road narrowed. We weren’t far now. Just a few miles of winding gravel road left.
Beau glanced at me. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Just…”
I trailed off, my gaze catching on the dark spaces between the trees. Everywhere I looked, I could have sworn I saw eyes like twin moonstones in the shadows…
Beau’s hand found mine again and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll be fine,” he said, like he could tell exactly where my thoughts had gone. “Whatever’s out there, it’s just woods.”
I nodded, but I didn’t believe it.
Because something had been following me for years…and I had the sinking feeling I was about to come face to face with it.
CHAPTER 20
Beau
