2. Chapter Two

Chapter two

The road twists deeper into the Payette National Forest, each turn drawing me further away from my life's chaos. Away from Mark. The forest grows denser, a lush canopy knitting tightly above. The evening light filters through leaves in dappled patterns. It’s beautiful and alien, like stepping into a parallel world where my problems can't quite reach me.

I’ve driven this path before, many times, chasing shadows and footprints. But tonight, there's a flutter in my stomach, a whisper in the back of my mind: This time will be different. I can feel it. I’m going to find Bigfoot.

Pulling into my usual camping area, I kill the engine and step out into the twilight. The air is crisp, filled with the sharp scent of pine and earth. The immediate drop in temperature makes me shiver. The familiar sounds of the forest at night greet me — crickets chirping, the occasional rustle of small creatures in the underbrush, the distant call of an owl. This place is more home to me than my house with Mark ever is.

I get to work, my movements automatic. First, I secure the area, checking for signs of recent animal activity. I don't need a bear wandering through tonight. Next, I pop open the back of the campervan, pulling out my portable kitchen. It's nothing fancy — just a small stove and a cooler packed with provisions — but it's enough. I set up a foldable table and chair. My little enclave where I can jot down notes and refuel with a hot meal. Once that’s done, I prepare my research equipment. Night vision goggles, audio recorders, and plaster for footprint casts. I line them up neatly on another table, my outdoor lab under the stars. I’ve learned the hard way that being organized out here makes all the difference.

As the shadows stretch and the sky deepens to a dark blue, the whole forest comes alive with noise. Crickets get their groove on, squirrels scamper home, and possums make a late-night booty call. At least someone is getting laid tonight…

It’s getting cold. The chill of the evening sneaks through my jacket, so I zip it up all the way, watching my breath fog up in front of me. I sweep the beam of my flashlight around, making the shadows jump. It’s too dark to do any investigating tonight. I should probably head to bed.

I shuffle into the campervan, feeling the cool night air nipping at my heels as I close the door behind me. The routine is simple — brush my teeth, change into some comfy pajamas, and pull down the small bed. It’s surprisingly cozy in here, even with the drop in temperature. I’m usually knocked out the minute my head hits the pillow. But not tonight. Tonight, my mind races.

I roll over, adjusting my position, trying to find that sweet spot on the cool side of the pillow. But it’s not working.

Come on Emily. Just sleep. It must be my argument with Mark still playing in my subconscious. Twat. Even out here, he’s ruining my calm.

Eventually, after what feels like hours of battling with my thoughts, my body succumbs to sleep. My eyes finally close, my mind slowly quiets, and then the dreams come…