was deep below me, but it reflected full moonlight dappled across the tiny, rippling waves.
How far down? I looked about the bridge for
a stone to toss over, but found nothing large
enough to make a sound that would reach
me. I glanced over the bridge railing again, but
again all I saw was the full moon reflected on
the inky surface far beneath me.
I shrugged my shoulders in an effort to relax
and hefted my gas can.
I looked ahead and took a seemingly significant step away from the bridge when the
tree frogs stopped. The sudden lack of noise
startled me, and I spun around again to look
in the direction of my vehicle (which was now
hidden through a bend in the road). From this
angle just beyond the bridge, I saw where the
landscape sloped downward. Plant growth
gave the concrete a wide berth along the path
surely used both for maintenance crews and
for high school kids wanting to sneak away
for skinnydipping in the canyon river. Looking along that path made me appreciate how
deep the river was, but that would have to
wait.
When I turned back to the highway, I noticed a
light zipping between trees in the forest to my
right. Any other time, I would have left it alone,
but it looked like a flashlight, and I knew there
was a state park in the area. Maybe a park
ranger? Maybe something else, but I doubted
the region had a history of many axe murderers. I was frustrated enough to take a chance.
I reached into my jacket and thumbed my
phone to life for good measure. No bars, no Gs.
I cupped my hands over my mouth and bellowed a grand, “Hey!” into the woods. I stepped
closer but stopped at the tree line. If it was an
axe murderer, they would have to take me out
in the open. “Hey!” I repeated. “I just need to
get back to town if you can help.”
The lights paused. Still no answer. My frustration grew, and I was already turning back
to the highway in defeat when they moved
again. I looked again and watched the light’s
approach, hoping to see a reflection of a
badge among the trees. The flashlight blinked
as though the batteries were dying, but then
the woods lit up again. The light then moved
faster than I expected, weaving through the
trees with alarming speed. I cried out and fell
to the gravel by the side of the road in surprise
as another speeding car passed in the opposite lane, blowing an angry horn but otherwise
never slowing down. I scrambled back until
INSIGHT’S HALLOWEEN INTERACTIVE FICTION
You have made a fatal error in judging that the
gerbil wants to eat you. He hungers only for
destruction.
YOU DIED.
As he kills you with a surprise pickaxe attack,
some of your blood gets in his mouth and
he dies. After all, you didn’t lie; you are made
entirely of poison.
If you'd like to go back in time to before
everything went horribly wrong, you can
always go back to page 12.
INSIGHT
FINAL SCORE: BITTERSWEET VICTORY!
October 2014
25