HORROR CAMPING TRIP 🕷 🕸 (part 1/2)

Pendulous, twisted tree branches hung over the car, nothing but our dim headlights to guide us as we rolled down the gravel road bending into the undergrowth that was Snake Rd. From beside me, Casey whined and shifted in her seat. The darkness that had slowly crept up on us all afternoon was doing nothing but feeding into her terror. In the back sat Alex and Rivers, the eighteen-year-old twins. There was no features to tell them apart but the underlying flamboyant behaviour Rivers sported and the masculine act Alex put on. Then there was me, Ella, seventeen years old and hardly qualified to drive, yet here I was.
"Alex, can you pass Casey the Twizzlers, she's getting all upset-"

BANG!

We all audibly gasped and jumped at the loud noise. The car had stopped abruptly in the middle of the gravel road. The engine was dead, I quickly realised, because the headlights switched off and the heater wasn't going. Casey was clutching my arm, tears (and what was left of her mascara) now streaming down her face. 

"Blowout," Alex remarked, finally breaking the eerie silence. "Quick, go fix it!" Rivers yelped, waving his hands dramatically.  His twin sighed, opening his door and stepping out into the cold open. "Alex, be safe!" Gwenmelon cried, totally petrified. Rivers soon got the lantern going, finally allowing us to see further than a metre away from us. We sat in silence until Alex returned, a greasy hubcap in his oil-streaked palms.

"Yep, definitely a blowout. Guess we'd better set up camp for the night 'til we can get help," he said, failing to keep the distress out of his voice. Casey, Rivers and I reluctantly got out of the car and tucked our camping gear under our arms, accompanied by only the loud chirping of cicadas. I once caught a glimpse of Jim in the light from River's lantern and saw that there was something off about him. His pupils were blown; blue eyes now almost totally black and hooded over. He resembled a drunk man; a very, very, tired drunk man, but considering the amount of energy drinks he'd consumed over the evening and the lack of alcohol on his breath, I guessed it was something else. 

Twenty long minutes later and the campsite was nearly set up. Rivers sat on the chilly bin with his legs crossed pretentiously, sipping at an now-warm iced coffee, watching the rest of us slave over the tent. Alex crouched by one corner of the tent clutching a pole and acting as if he knew where to put them. Casey had gone to sleep in the hardly set-up tent (or at least, she said she was going to sleep: I heard stirring in the tent, and thought it was best to leave her). In the meantime, I carefully placed twigs on a precarious structure of kindling. Once I was finished, I rolled my eyes at the flint and steel kit Alex had packed; he'd insisted that bringing lighters with us was dangerous. 

"Alex, can I have some help here, please?" I asked. Jim seemed glad to have a break from tent-erecting and jogged over. 

"Oh, this? It's easy, all you have to do is-" 

Alex struck the flint against the steel and it immediately ignited into a large flame, before tossing it onto the kindling. I tried once for myself, unsuccessful. In the end I had to watch Jim finishing lighting the fire. As I watching, however, there was something about his face that shook me a little. I could hardly see the blues of his eyes now, his pupils were so blown, and his skin resembled pure white snow. Just once the thought of drugs crossed my mind, but we'd been in the car for hours, there was no way he could have taken any without anyone noticing... or smelling, for that matter. But, alas, Alex seemed fine, and I was getting tired, so I didn't question it. 

Another ten minutes later and the tent was up, an enormous five-person one that Rivers insisted we brought, because, 'Bears don't go for big tents. They go for little ones.' to which Casey replied, 'Where did you learn that from?" and Rivers told her that his middle school science teacher called Mr. Hecox told him. Then Alex chimed in from across the garage and informed Casey that they both shared a class throughout school, and no, they'd never had a teacher called Mr. Hecox. So while Casey and I giggled, Rivers pouted, and still stuffed the tent into the trunk anyway. 

"Ah! Finally finished." Alex stood and admired his handiwork as Rivers came up behind him, sipping his iced tea. "It's missing something," he frowned, with a puzzled expression. "Huh?" 
The twins simultaneously tilted their heads, and then back again. I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, alright, you twats, I brought marshm-" 
"AAARRGH!" 
Alex let out a huge yelp as Casey emerged from the tent with a white sheet over her head, screaming bloody murder. Rivers stood unimpressed. I rolled my eyes, and Alex leaped onto his twin brother's arm. 
"Nice try, Casey, but you're gonna have to try a little harder." Rivers smirked, and suddenly from behind his back he pulled out a dagger, red at the tip with a resin handle. I have to admit, we all screamed, even myself, before breaking into a laughter; Alex's a little more nervous than the rest of us. 
"Ella, get the marshmallows. It's time for horror stories!" Casey cheered. Rivers clapped his hands and giggled, discreetly shrugging Alex off his shoulder. 

"-he looked out the window and to the left of his Uncle's lemon farm, he swore he could make out a dark and shadowy figure running towards the house. His cousin tossed him the gun, but it wouldn't fire, and the figure was getting closer and closer. In the meantime, downstairs, the banging on the door would not cease. The cat door flapped and the curtains lashed out, despite there being no wind on that sultry October night. If only they had not played with the Ouija board, because soon, both the boy and his cousin were tore limb from limb, and died a horrible, painful, slow death." Rivers growled in a deep, menacing voice. "The end!" he suddenly cheered, clapping his hands. 

"Hold on... that gives me an idea."  

(Part Two posted tomorrow!)