Emmett

"What's up with you and Siena?" asked Isaac as he and Emmett hiked back to the cabin from Alpenglow.

It was late. Emmett was tired and regretting not taking the whiskey with them. He hated answering questions about Siena when he was sober.

He kicked a loose rock. It bounced down the rest of the granite slope and disappeared into the forest. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. You're weird together."

Emmett almost laughed. Luckily, Isaac was behind him and couldn't see his face. "Is that so?"

"She your ex?"

"You could say that."

"I mean, either she is, or she isn't."

This little shit.

The shock of orange across the western range was tenuous, and Emmett slowed, fishing his headlamp out of his daypack to avoid answering a question far more complicated than is or isn't. There were high school sweethearts. A college girlfriend who lasted a handful of months before growing bored with him. There was the Greek girl he had followed around Europe after his undergrad. Those were the exes Isaac meant, not an ex like Siena.

"Do you have exes?" Emmett asked.

"I have mistakes," Isaac said.

Emmett had guessed as much. Isaac was old enough to have mistakes, but not old enough to have fucked up a seasoned relationship as deeply as Emmett had.

Emmett pushed a branch out of the way as they dipped into the grove of pines between the incline and the cabin. "Want advice?"

"Uhh, sure?"

"Don't get engaged until you've gotten all those mistakes out of your system."

Emmett could sense a thousand questions boiling up inside the kid, and braced for something else related to Siena.

"Why'd you go corporate?"

Somehow, this was worse. But at least Emmett could answer honestly. "Money."

"That's... that's it?" Isaac's voice brimmed with disappointment.

I'm not a role model, kid,Emmett wanted to say, but bit his tongue and thought up a more gracious answer. "I get that you're aspirational. And I think it's great... really. Being a scientist is hard. But sometimes, work is just work. It's how you afford the things you really care about."

Or how you lose the things you care about. But Emmett would leave that part out.

He looked up and stopped short. Isaac ran into him.

The mountains swallowed the last dregs of sunlight, and all Emmett could see were shadows. But one stood out to the left of the path, just beyond the range of his light—a dark, nebulous patch between the trees.

"Do you see that?" asked Emmett.

Isaac stepped around him and craned his neck. "See what?"

Emmett blinked several times, but the shadow was still there, stone-still and hovering five or so feet off the ground. As he stepped off the trail, his pant leg caught on underbrush. He startled before kicking it away and creeping deeper.

A trick of the light. The tension eased in his chest. He just needed to confirm nothing was really there.

"Where are you going?"

Emmett held his hand out, motioning Isaac to stay. He carefully maneuvered over tree roots and chokecherry. The shadow retreated just beyond his light. His vision wasn't playing tricks on him; the shape was far too dark—onyx against the night—like someone had thrown a bucket of black paint against an invisible wall.

Emmett took another step, and then another, quickening his pace until he was jogging through the woods. He tripped over young growth and punched the taller shrubs out of his way. He'd reach the damn thing if it was the last thing he did.

And then the shadow stopped. Emmett didn't.

A blinding mist washed over his face and arms. Emmett stumbled to a halt as his headlamp flickered out. His inner ear sang, the mist hitting the back of his throat when he tried to breathe. His cough was silent; he could hear nothing but the dizzying shriek that grew until he thought his head was going to split open.

A strange sensation filled his abdomen. It felt like an emotion, like guilt—a deeply rooted guilt he had only experienced once before, right after Siena left him. That guilt had almost killed him then, and now...

The shriek died. Emmett choked down air, coughing and sputtering. With his hands on his knees, he caught his breath and shivered. The light from his headlamp wavered against the bare dirt.

He touched his face. His skin was cold, but dry. Whatever he had charged into had evaporated.

What a trip. Something this weird hadn't happened to him since he was young and stupid and thought experimenting with salvia was a good idea. And even then...

He moved his head upward, following the light as it cascaded over a gnarled tree trunk. The bark was smoother than the scaly foxtail pines surrounding the cabin, the tree itself as massive as a cypress. But giants didn't survive at this altitude, not with the wind as it was.

Something crashed through the woods behind him. "Dude, what the hell?" Isaac called.

What the hellwas right.

Emmett caught a flicker of movement near his feet. He dragged his eyes down the trunk, just as the shadow disappeared into a hollow.