A Dead Sleep

It's funny how twilight never bothers to sneak past the boundaries of the canopy. As such, the two hikers fondled their way through underbrush. They moved cautiously and stopped often to untangle loose clothing from the clutches of thorny vines, or to allow vulnerable eyes to adjust to rapidly falling darkness.

The path had been abandoned hours ago, and against Jason's better judgment. He was the level-headed one. The joys of hiking were enough to keep him occupied without having to search for additional thrills. For Devlin, however, the journey was often not considered an adventure until you faced a substantial element of danger.

"I don't know where the hell we are," Jason grumbled. "What the hell's a burial ground look like anyway?"

"What do you think it looks like?" Devlin was tired of the bellyaching by now. "You never been to a cemetery before?"

"They're Native Americans, Dev. You really think we'll stumble over a headstone or something? And even if we do, what will we do when we get there?"

"Don't you ever stop whining? If I wanted to hear this crap I should have brought my little sister."

"If I wanted to have any fun I should have stayed back with your little sister."

Devlin grabbed Jason by the collar and pulled him within three inches of his face. "You better take that back right now!" Jason broke free of the hold and pushed Devlin straight into a thorn bush. Guilt bit at his heels before his friend even hit the ground.

"Look, I'm sorry," he said, offering Devlin a hand to pull him out of the tangled mess. "I didn't mean it. I'm just tired, is all."

"Well, let's set up camp. No point in searching blind, right? We'll continue at first light." The two hikers set up their tent beside a tall oak tree and climbed inside as twilight succumbed to the reign of a full moon.

"We never should have left the trail," Jason said. "We'll be lucky if we ever find our way back."

"Will you relax?" Devlin responded with a chuckle. "We have a compass and we'll have some light in the morning. We can't be far from the burial ground anyway."

"Burial ground? Will you give that up already? I'm through searching for that nonsense. Tomorrow I'm heading straight back to the trail and then on to base camp. I'm not spending another night up here trying to scare up a bunch of ghosts that don't even exist."

"Ok, ok. Keep your pants on. Get some sleep and we'll talk in the morning." Devlin used this strategy almost exclusively. Jason called it his delay method, kind of the equivalent of a parent's "we'll see."

But as Jason nodded off to sleep he could do nothing but remind himself of how badly he wanted to find the trail and make it home safely.

After about an hour of restless sleep, most of which was interrupted by Devlin's nasally snoring, Jason decided to get a bit of fresh air outside the tent. As he reached for the entry flap he heard a distinct crack, as if someone or something had taken a rare misstep through the brush. Jason froze and then he slowly and cautiously unzipped the flap to reveal no more than a half inch hole he could peer through. He placed his eye to the hole and panned left to right. Nothing.

He began to unzip the tent further. Snap. His heart pounded in his chest. A lonely bead of sweat rolled from his temple and disappeared off his cheek. He grabbed Devlin's foot and began shaking him awake, but his friend didn't budge. His body seemed cold and lifeless.

Jason zipped up the flap and dove into his sleeping bag, shivering. He remained dead silent; hoping whatever lurked outside the tent would pass on without notice. After a few minutes and no result, Jason decided his own paranoia was getting the best of him and he closed his eyes and nodded off once again.

It didn't take long, however, before more rustling from the brush jostled Jason awake again.

"Dev, you up?" No answer. He grabbed his friend and shook him. No response. "Devlin, wake up!" Nothing. "Dev!" More rustling. "Oh my God, Devlin, stop messing around!" An army of feet were approaching. Sticks and

twigs snapped all around him. "Dev!" Something brushed against the outside of the tent. A sudden gust of wind swirled and sent dried leaves and dust bouncing off the canvas. Devlin did not budge. His eyes darted back and forth beneath closed eyelids, the only sign of life.

A low hum rose slightly above the footsteps outside the tent, growing in volume. Jason could barely make out solitary voices buzzing within it in a language he could not decipher. Devlin was about as mobile as a damp log.

All at once a great wind swept through the camp. It whistled through the trees and brush, and then split the tent open from the top like a stale bag of potato chips. The wind raced off through the trees and the low hum, now a distinct chant, rose in intensity around him. HEYYYAA! HEYYYA! heyaHEYAheya!

Halfway transparent forms danced around him in a circle beating small drums, stomping mocassined-feet into dry earth, and staring blankly behind thick war paint. HEYYYAA! HEYYYA! heyaHEYAheya! There was a chill in the night air which bit at the cheeks and ears, but it was pure fright which held Jason frozen to the spot. HEYYYAA! HEYYYA! heyaHEYAheya! Before he could move even a fraction of an inch, one of the forms broke from the ranks and was upon him.

The ghostly brave held a strong, brown hand to Jason's throat and a heavy stone weapon poised for use at his right temple. "Devlin!" Jason tried to shout, but any hint of sound was choked out by the strong hand and the rising intensity of the chant. HEYYYAA! HEYYYA!...

The ritual seemed to last for hours. HEYYYAA! HEYYYA! heyaHEYAheya! Jason could barely breathe. He could not move or communicate. HEYYYAA! HEYYYA! heyaHEYAheya! Tears and sweat combined on his cheeks and poured down through the semi-transparent hand and onto Jason's chest. HEYYYAA! HEYYYA! heyaHEYAheya!

Then the chant came to a sudden stop and all the forms froze on the spot. A chieftain with a headdress of hawk and falcon feathers stepped forward and handed Jason's captor a small, stone chalice about the size of a tea cup. The captor held Jason down with a knee to the throat and lifted the receptacle high above his head. The rest of the tribe responded with a series of shouts and whoops. Then the chalice was placed beside Jason's temple and the stone knife made contact with the skin.

Jason could feel the warmth trickle down the side of his head and run into the chalice. He could feel life and energy and love running out of his body all at once. He could see the moon and all the shapes growing darker and darker still, until blackness was all that surrounded him. His eyelids fell shut and all was lost.

Jason did not regain consciousness until the first rays of light from the morning sun fell upon the Earth and the twinkling banter of songbirds filled the surrounding forest. He opened his eyes slowly and was met immediately with a view of the tent's ceiling and the sound of Devlin's snoring.

"Dev, wake up," he said in a hoarse whisper. This time his friend grunted and opened a single eyelid the width

of a stray hair. When Devlin's bearings came back to him, he shot upright as if he were spring-loaded about the waist.

"Boy, am I glad to see you," he said to Jason as he rubbed sleep from his burning eyes.

"You don't even know the half of it," Jason responded.

"Yeah, well, I had the most bizarre dream."

"So did I. I was trying to wake you up all night but you were colder and more lifeless than a week-old corpse."

"Wait a minute. I think you're confused. I was trying to wake you up all night. I was practically screaming in your--"

But Devlin never finished his sentence. He was distracted by Jason's hand as it traced a small circle around the swollen patch of red which crept just beyond the hairline near his right temple. Instinctively and almost trance-like, Devlin stretched a bony index finger to his own temple and applied the slightest bit of pressure. Soreness. Just as he'd feared.

"I think it's time we head back to base camp," Devlin mumbled. Jason, eyes wider than saucers, issued nothing more than a nervous half-nod. The two hikers packed up their equipment in the blink of an eye and were gone. They never returned to the spot or spoke about their bizarre experience to anyone, and they never left the safety of the trail ever again.

But sometimes as Jason and Devlin hiked and the twilight failed to cast anything more than dark shadows beneath the forest's canopy, they would swear that a nearly imperceptible hum was snaking its way through the brush behind them. HEYYYAA! HEYYYA! heyaHEYAheya!