They went back to the camp to relax and eat before their second trip of Day 2 in this mysterious forest. The scent of roasted rabbit and fish lingered in the air as Ethan roasted them over the fire. Maya leaned back on a log, her hands clasped loosely in her lap, taking in the warmth. Rory sat across from her, scraping the last bits of fish from a bone with a small knife he had in his pocket. Sam was fixing his palm-leaf tent more securely, and Lena was sitting by the river, submerging her ankle in the water.
The more Maya found herself watching Rory more than she realized. It was subtle at first—a glance at his hands, the way his long blond hair fell across his forehead: she was actually looking forward to being around him. A small, private warmth curled in her chest whenever he laughed at his own jokes, even the terrible ones. She forced herself to look away, pretending to examine the fire, but her mind kept drifting back.
"You've gone quiet," Rory said suddenly, glancing up at her with a teasing grin.
"I'm just… thinking," Maya said quickly, hoping her voice sounded casual.
"Thinking about how to steal my knife when you get the chance?" he asked, smirking.
She rolled her eyes, though she felt the corners of her lips twitch. "Maybe," she admitted, her voice quieter than intended.
She then paused, escaping her fantasy moment, "Wait...where did you get a pocket knife?" she asked.
Rory looks at the knife, then back at her, "I had it in my pocket."
Maya looks at the others, then turns back to him, "Were you wearing that outfit before you woke up here?"
Rory nods, "And I keep a knife in my pocket every night if that's what you're wondering. It's for self-defense if someone so happened to break into my apartment while I slept."
"So you were sleeping before you got here?" she asked.
"Yes," He responded, "and you?"
Maya tries to recall, but nothing, "I...still can't remember. But I was still wearing this black shirt and jeans."
She then looked at Ethan, who was rationing the fish skewers on some leaves, "Ethan...do you remember what you were doing before you woke up here? And were you wearing that same outfit?"
Ethan looks up at her, surprised by the question, "My memory is still foggy, but the last thing I remember was being in an Uber on my way home to my wife and son. My car was at the mechanic's at the time. I don't remember what happened after that. And yes, I was in this outfit. I still have my wallet, but there is no use for cash in this place."
Maya placed her hand on her chin, thinking: If we were kidnapped and brought to this place, why do we still have our belongings?
She then walked over to Sam and Lena, who were lingering at the riverbank, "Sam, do you still not remember anything from before?"
Sam looks up at her and sighs, "Nope. Still nothing. Maybe I was studying for finals, but I'm not sure. But what's strange is that yesterday I realized I still have my mini notebook I carry everywhere."
"Hm..." Maya nods, making sense of the situation.
Lena looked over them and spoke, "I already told y'all about my last memory yesterday, but I do find it strange that I still have my phone. But the battery is dead, and there is no service," she then continued, uncomfortable, "...and I'm sick of this work outfit now. I wanna change, but no extra clothes."
After a while, they ate dinner while personally thinking about the oddness of the situation.
As evening drew near, Ethan proposed they move further east to see if anyone else was around. Lena, Sam, Rory, and Maya agreed, the group moving with caution and energy.
The journey was slow. Branches snagged their clothing, and the occasional rustle of unseen creatures kept nerves alert.
Ahead of them, Ethan led the group with practiced precision, mapping the forest mentally, calling out landmarks, and checking the sun—or what passed for it—in the east direction. Lena occasionally paused to examine plants or note unusual patterns in the terrain, while Sam stayed close, keeping an eye on the group, writing unseen words in his notebook.
Maya found herself walking beside Rory more than she intended, their shoulders brushing at times. Each accidental touch sent a warmth through her she couldn't explain, and each time he laughed at one of her small jokes, she felt an odd, fluttering sense of ease.
By dusk, they came upon a clearing that was startlingly different from the rest of the forest. Torn tents lay scattered, torn with holes circling an unlit campfire. Canned food, surprisingly intact, sat in piles near overturned crates. It was clear someone had been here before—and left in a hurry.
"Looks like a camp," Lena said softly. "People were here."
Maya felt her stomach tighten.
Ethan scanned the area for movement, but saw nothing. He approached the clearing with caution. His eyes widened as he saw drawings and maps scattered on the ground. He examined the maps, running his fingers along the hand-drawn trails and markings. "This forest is bigger than we thought," she said. "Look at these paths… they go far past what we've seen."
They scattered, each searching a different area.
Rory's face darkened as he opened a journal left on one of the crates. "There are diaries too," he said.
Maya leaned in, reading over his shoulder as he flipped through the pages. One entry stood out, but no date.
Rory felt a shiver down his spine as he called over the others and read aloud:
"We survived for two months. The forest gives food and water if you know where to look. But disasters struck—floods, storms, illness. Only two of us remain. We are searching for the door, the way out. Haven't seen the others in days. I feel I am being watched."
They all looked at each other.
Lena swallowed hard, scared, "Someone lived here… they tried to escape."
Ethan rested his hand on his chin, "...and a door...what door?"
Everyone was left puzzled, unsure of what the letter was talking about.
They decided to stay for the night, gathering wood to start a fire and scavenging the tents for supplies. The canned food seemed safe enough, though Sam made a mental note to check expiration dates.
Night slowly came. Maya stepped outside the small camp, staring up at the stars. She traced the familiar constellations, trying to reassure herself that the day had passed normally, that the forest was just… a forest.
But then she noticed it: the stars repeated themselves in the same formation as the night before. She froze, heart hammering. The same pattern. The same constellations. They hadn't moved.
Rory emerged from a tent he claimed, noticing her posture. "You awake too?" he whispered.
She nodded.
He looked up at the sky, but then a sudden rustle in a nearby tree caught his attention. He sighed when it was just a squirrel, but then he suddenly glanced at a specific tree, and he felt chills.
He gently tapped Maya's shoulder, his eyes wide in horror, "Look," he said, pointing. A faint red light blinked from among the branches of a nearby tree. It was small, rhythmic, like a warning or a signal.
Maya's stomach dropped. "What… is that?"
Rory shook his head, face tense. "I don't know. But we need to keep our eyes open."
For a long while, they simply watched the light together, the forest around them eerily silent.
Maya leaned slightly closer to Rory, unconsciously seeking comfort, even as a creeping chill ran up her spine. Her heart was pounding for two reasons now: the fear that someone—or something—was watching, and maybe she wasn't being paranoid after all.