The Haunted Traveler Vol. 1 Issue 1

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and disappeared off his cheek. He grabbed Devlin’s foot and
began shaking him awake, but his friend didn’t budge. His
body seemed cold and lifeless.
Jason zipped up the flap and dove into his sleeping bag,
shivering. He remained dead silent; hoping whatever lurked
outside the tent would pass on without notice. After a few
minutes and no result, Jason decided his own paranoia was
getting the best of him and he closed his eyes and nodded off
once again.
It didn’t take long, however, before more rustling from the
brush jostled Jason awake again.
“Dev, you up?” No answer. He grabbed his friend and
shook him. No response. “Devlin, wake up!” Nothing. “Dev!”
More rustling. “Oh my God, Devlin, stop messing around!”
An army of feet were approaching. Sticks and twigs snapped
all around him. “Dev!” Something brushed against the outside
of the tent. A sudden gust of wind swirled and sent
dried leaves and dust bouncing off the canvas. Devlin did not
budge. His eyes darted back and forth beneath closed eyelids,
the only sign of life.
A low hum rose slightly above the footsteps outside the
tent, growing in volume. Jason could barely make out solitary
voices buzzing within it in a language he could not decipher.
Devlin was about as mobile as a damp log.
All at once a great wind swept through the camp. It whistled
through the trees and brush, and then split the tent
open from the top like a stale bag of potato chips. The wind
raced off through the trees and the low hum, now a distinct
chant, rose in intensity around him. HEYYYAA! HEYYYA!
heyaHEYAheya!
Halfway transparent forms danced around him in a circle
beating small drums, stomping mocassined-feet into
dry earth, and staring blankly behind thick war paint.
HEYYYAA! HEYYYA! heyaHEYAheya! There was a chill in
the night air which bit at the cheeks and ears, but it was
pure fright which held Jason frozen to the spot. HEYYYAA!