episode 1 – ominous pathA wrong turn at night leaves a couple lost in unfamiliar backroads, with a failing GPS, vanishing landmarks, and growing unease in the dark woods.
A wrong turn at night leaves a couple lost in unfamiliar backroads, with a failing GPS, vanishing landmarks, and growing unease in the dark woods.
Loosely based on actual events
Meandering Roads
A text message alerts Karim of a motion detector fault in his new home. Soon afterward, he receives a call from the security service. After verifying credentials, he must answer the question: “Do you want us to send police to check the premises?”
“No. I’m less than 20 minutes away. The system keeps faulting. Can you schedule a tech support call for tomorrow?”
“Certainly, Mr. Campbell. Be safe.”
Karim hangs up and locates his wife at a black-tie gala, saying, “Daphne, it’s getting late. We should get going.”
Noticing their haste, a friend approaches. “Leaving so soon?”
“Yes, Richard. We’ve had a great time. I need to check on an alarm that went off at our house.”
“I hope it’s nothing serious. Do you want me to follow?”
“No. It’s likely faulty wiring.”
“Then call me when you get home.”
“Sure thing.”
It’s been only a few weeks since the move from the city to this quiet, wooded suburb. A bigger house, a slower pace—but the roads twist like vines, and everything looks different at night.
In the car, Daphne is distracted by her phone. Karim figures it should be easy enough to backtrack from memory. But with no clear route to the onramp, he gets turned around. After thirty minutes, they’re deep in unfamiliar territory.
Daphne looks up with furrowed brows. “Richard is texting me. Shouldn’t we be home by now?”
“It seems so. I must have missed the off-ramp in the darkness. I’ll take the next exit and use the GPS.”
The exit, miles away, lands them on a side road without signage. So they are dependent upon turn-by-turn navigation. On an unimproved single-lane rural road, the directions indicate they should head 5 miles into the darkness.
With high beams cutting through the night, their eyes flick nervously at the dense trees lining the road. “Turn right for 3 miles.”
Karim finds relief in the full gasoline gauge as they drive deeper into the pitch on a curved road. Then the signal drops, cutting off navigation. His grip tightens on the wheel as his heartbeat thuds in his throat.
“Daphne, there’s no room to turn around on this narrow road. Should we just keep going forward, hoping the signal will return?”
“Yes, of course. We can’t stay here!”
They pass a bonfire with the distant voices of revelers smashing beer bottles.
“The last directions said to travel 3 miles. It’s been 5.” With diminishing confidence, he says, “We must have missed a turn.”
Spinning Their Wheels
The car keeps going until the tires jam. No signal. No road signs. Just gravel. Trees. A bright light fills the sky, followed by vibrating thunder and a rapid downpour.
Karim offers a reasonable option. “The wheels are spinning, so we have to stay put, at least until the rain stops.”
“And then what? I don’t want to stay here until sunrise.”
“Let’s just see.”
The rain stops after 30 minutes when Daphne asks, “Do you think the people at the bonfire could help?”
“It’s the only sign of life we’ve seen. I could hike back to them.”
“You’re not leaving me out here. I’ll go with you.”
“Okay. We can use the light from our phones to stay on the path.”
Twigs snap in the brush as Daphne’s heels sink deeper into the mud.
“What’s that?” she asks in a panic.
“It’s probably just a small animal—like a squirrel.”
“Or a coyote,” she adds while tightening her grip on his arm.
After walking another 30 minutes, they can’t find the bonfire.
Karim asks in the faint scent of ash, “The house should be around here. Do you think the rain put out the flames?”
“I don’t know. But I’m not dressed for all this walking. Maybe we should go back to the car. We’re just bait for wild animals.”
“That’s a better plan. The signal should be stronger in the morning.”
The faint coyote howl punctuates Daphne’s fears and hastens their steps, despite exhaustion. Back at the gravel patch of road, their car is missing. In the distance ahead, they see what could be the taillights of their vehicle.
“Did someone steal my car?” Karim asks angrily.
“Did you leave it unlocked?”
“Are you blaming me? How could I know anyone was out here? Come on. This way.”
Would arguing or being supportive yield the best results in this situation?
By the time they reach the car, the lights are off and the tires are missing.
“Why move the car just to remove the wheels?”
Still no signal. They get inside and lock the doors with anxiety, keeping them awake.
Searching for Help
Daylight comes, and the only thing that changes is the color of the trees. They’re dense, dark green, not black. Karim puts his suit jacket on the backseat and steps out, holding up his phone and searching for a signal.
He suggests, “There must be something beyond the trees. We could be standing near the front yard of the ranch. On both sides of the road are ditches. Hold my hand while I slide down.”
“Okay. Be careful.”
She can’t support his weight. Their hands separate, and Karim falls, muddying his pants.
“I’m all right,” he shouts.
He hikes for a half hour through thistles in the darkness before reaching a fence with an unfriendly “No Trespassing” sign. Karim decides to chance it. After ripping his pants while climbing over, he walks toward a barn. Closer, and lights from the house next to it come into view.
An old man with a plaid shirt is standing on the porch, aiming a rifle in his direction. Karim extends his arms to show he’s not a threat, not wanting to mention his four tires next to the armed stranger.
“Hello, neighbor. My name’s Karim. I just moved into town and got lost. Can you help me out with a sip of water and some directions?”
The man lowers the rifle, asking, “How’d you get past the dogs?”
“Dogs? I didn’t see any.”
“They ain’t doin’ their jobs. Must not be hungry nuff. They ain’t gettin’ no supper tonight.”
“About that water. I’m parched. Can you spare any?”
“Fetch it yourself—over yonder.”
Unwelcoming Discovery
When Karim returns, the man is gone. “Could he be in the barn?” A tap on the door yields no response. After peeking through the window, he turns the unlocked doorknob, thinking, “This might be the worst mistake of my life.”
“Hello? It’s Karim.” More deliberate steps, and he asks, “Can you give me those directions?”
While slowly walking through the house, he passes the rifle—a good sign that he won’t get shot. A cell phone on the coffee table looks like it has a stronger signal. He hesitates, then peeks into the kitchen. No one is visible.
As he turns, his eyes lower. The old man is sprawled on the floor, clutching his chest. Karim freezes—standing in a puddle of urine-soaked fear.
Continued…
Return twice weekly for miniseries. Use of this material for generative training or republication in any format without authorization is prohibited. Any relation to actual persons or events is coincidental. Login provides the most immersive experience. About 2300 total words. Audio may include sound effects that alter reading time.
