When did something happen to you that was straight out of a horror movie?
The Encounter and the Chase
When did something happen to you that was straight out of a horror movie? I was hiking my favorite trail when a hand reached out behind a bush and latched onto my arm, scaring the crap out of me. A skinny, filthy woman hiding in the dirt whispered, “Please help me”.
She looked like she’d been living in the woods for weeks with matted hair full of leaves, dirt caked under her fingernails, and clothes that were basically rags hanging off her skeletal frame.
She said her name was Samantha, and she’d escaped from a cabin where a man had kept her chained for three months. He was out looking for her right now because she’d only gotten away an hour ago. Her wrists had raw red rings where restraints had been, and she kept looking over her shoulder, flinching at every sound in the forest.
I immediately gave her my water bottle, which she drank so fast she choked. And I told her we needed to get to my car and get her to the police. She said the man knew these woods perfectly because he’d hunted here his whole life and he’d find us before we made it down.
I’d started hiking at 5:00 in the morning to beat the crowds, so there was literally no one else on the trail who could help us. I pulled out my phone to call 911, but had no signal this deep in the trail. Samantha started crying, saying he’d kill us both if he caught us, that he’d already killed other women, and she’d seen their bodies in a freezer in his basement. My hands started shaking as I realized we were three miles from the parking area with no cell service and apparently a killer hunting us.
Samantha could barely walk because her feet were cut up from running barefoot. So, I gave her my extra socks and boots from my pack even though they were too big. We started down the trail as fast as she could manage, but she kept stumbling and I had to support her weight.
Every bird that flew up made us both jump, and every branch that cracked made Samantha whimper and try to hide. She said he had dogs and rifles and knew every shortcut on this mountain.
About a mile down, Samantha grabbed my arm and pointed through the trees at movement on the ridge above us. I saw a figure up there, too far to make out details, but definitely watching us. Samantha started hyperventilating, saying that was him, and we needed to run, but she could barely walk, let alone run, and the trail was steep and covered in loose rocks.
We kept moving and I kept checking behind us and the figure was following along the ridge, staying parallel to us, but up higher where he could see everything. Samantha said he was waiting for the trail to curve back toward his position because he knew the mountain better than anyone.
My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears as we tried to move faster, but Samantha’s legs kept giving out. I heard a dog bark somewhere above us, and Samantha completely froze, shaking so bad she couldn’t take another step. She said he used the dogs to track the other women who’d tried to run.
The barking got closer and now I could hear multiple dogs, maybe three or four, and they sounded like they were heading straight down the mountain toward us. I pulled Samantha off the trail into thicker brush, hoping to hide, but she said the dogs would find us by scent.
We kept pushing through the undergrowth, branches tearing at our clothes and skin, trying to put distance between us and the barking. The sound of the dogs suddenly got much louder, and Samantha whispered they’d been released. They were running loose now.
I could hear them crashing through the brush above us, getting closer every second. We reached a small creek and I remembered something about water throwing off scent. So I pulled Samantha into it even though she was crying that it was too cold.
We waited downstream the icy water. Samantha barely able to stay upright on the slippery rocks. Behind us, the dogs reached where we’d entered the water and started barking frantically, circling and sniffing.
Then I heard a man’s voice calling out, “Samantha, I know you’re close.” “Just come back and I won’t hurt your friend.”
We kept moving downstream, but the creek was getting deeper and Samantha couldn’t swim. The dogs had found our trail again. I could see them now through the trees. Big German Shepherds, and behind them, a man with a rifle.
He was maybe 200 yards back, but closing fast. Samantha slipped on a rock and went under, and I had to grab her and pull her up, both of us gasping from the cold. When I looked back, the kidnapper was much closer and he’d raised his rifle.
I heard a crack and a bullet hit the water next to us, sending up a spray. Samantha screamed, and I pulled her behind a boulder as another shot chipped rock fragments off right where we’d been standing.
The man yelled, “Next one won’t miss.” “Come back now.”
We were trapped behind the rock with freezing water rushing around us. Samantha going hypothermic and this psycho with a rifle getting closer. The dogs had reached our position on the bank, barking and snarling just 15 feet away.
And I could hear the kidnapper walking toward us. Samantha was barely conscious. Her lips blew, unable to move. I could hear him loading another round into his rifle, his footsteps getting closer, maybe 30 feet away now.
The footsteps stopped right above us, and I heard the metallic click of him working the rifle’s bolt. Samantha’s whole body went slack against me, and her breathing got so shallow I could barely feel it against my chest.
