Chapter 36: The Rusty Truck
The forest finally began to thin as Adam and Henry pushed forward, their footsteps crunching on dry leaves. The tension from the Whispering Grove lingered in the air like a bad memory, but the eerie silence of the forest gave way to the distant hum of insects and the occasional chirping of birds.
"I think we're getting close to the edge," Henry said, his voice tinged with hope.
Adam squinted ahead. The sunlight filtering through the trees was brighter now, revealing patches of open sky. His heart lifted slightly as he spotted what looked like a dirt road cutting through the trees.
"Finally," he muttered. "A way out."
They emerged onto the road, its ruts deep from years of use. The scent of damp earth mixed with the faint smell of rust. A little farther ahead, something caught Adam's eye—a dilapidated truck parked at an odd angle by the side of the road.
The vehicle was ancient, its red paint faded and peeling. Moss clung to its tires, and the windshield was cracked, but the truck seemed oddly intact given its apparent abandonment.
Henry whistled low. "You think it still runs?"
"Doubtful," Adam replied. "But maybe there's something useful inside."
They approached cautiously, the forest unnervingly quiet again. Adam couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched.
Henry reached the driver's side door and tried the handle. It groaned but didn't budge.
"Locked," he said, stepping back. "You got any tricks for this?"
Adam smirked. "A few." He pulled out his phone.
"Manual locks. Easy enough," Adam said, pulling his multitool from his pocket.
Henry raised an eyebrow. "You just carry that around?"
"Always be prepared," Adam said with a grin, wedging the tool into the gap by the lock. With a few forceful jabs, the lock gave way, and the door creaked open.
Inside, the truck smelled of mildew and old leather. A few faded maps were strewn across the passenger seat, and a rusty toolbox sat on the floor. Adam grabbed the maps and flipped through them, noting the detailed markings of roads and trails in the area.
"These might be useful," he said, handing them to Henry.
Meanwhile, Henry rummaged through the toolbox, pulling out a crowbar and a flashlight. "Jackpot," he said, tossing the flashlight to Adam.
Adam inspected the flashlight. It was old and battered, but the bulb still flickered to life when he turned it on.
"Not bad," he said. "Anything else in there?"
Henry shook his head. "Just some loose screws and a lot of rust."
As they backed away from the truck, a faint sound made them freeze. It was a low, rhythmic thumping, coming from somewhere down the road.
"Do you hear that?" Henry asked, his voice tight.
Adam nodded, his eyes scanning the dense trees. "Yeah. Sounds like footsteps."
The thumping grew louder, accompanied by the sound of labored breathing. Adam's grip tightened on the flashlight as a figure emerged from the shadows—a man, hunched and disheveled, dragging a sack over one shoulder.
"Who's there?" Henry called, his hand on his sword.
The man stopped, his bloodshot eyes darting between them. His face was gaunt, and his clothes were tattered. He looked like he hadn't eaten or slept in days.
"You shouldn't be here," the man rasped.
Adam took a cautious step forward. "Neither should you, by the looks of it. What's going on?"
The man's gaze flickered to the truck. "That's mine. Leave it."
Henry exchanged a glance with Adam. "Doesn't look like it's gone anywhere in years."
The man's expression darkened. "You don't understand. This road... it's cursed. That truck's the only thing keeping it at bay."
Adam frowned. "Cursed? What are you talking about?"
The man dropped the sack, revealing a collection of crude charms and talismans. "The forest doesn't let people go. The truck... it's a safe haven. You leave it alone, or you'll regret it."
Adam pulled out his phone, stepping slightly away from the man.
Adam slipped the phone back into his pocket. "Look, we're not here to cause trouble. We just need to get through the forest. Can you tell us anything useful?"
The man's eyes narrowed. "There's no way through. Not unless you make a deal."
"A deal with who?" Henry asked, his tone skeptical.
The man gestured vaguely toward the trees. "Them. The forest spirits. They control everything here. You step off the road, and you're theirs."
Henry scoffed. "Sounds like a load of—"
Adam cut him off. "Thanks for the warning. We'll keep that in mind."
The man glared at them for a moment longer before hoisting the sack over his shoulder and trudging off into the woods.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Henry let out a low whistle. "That guy's got a few screws loose."
"Maybe," Adam said, "but we shouldn't ignore what he said. This place has already thrown enough weirdness at us."
Henry nodded reluctantly. "Fair point. Let's stick to the road for now."
They continued down the dirt path, the rusty truck fading into the distance behind them. The road stretched endlessly ahead, winding deeper into the unknown.
End of Chapter 36