 Madison Rose McClain crossed her eyes to watch a single droplet of water run slowly down from her forehead to the tip of her nose, then land in her lap with a plop. She had never felt so childish or foolish in her life. Having already gone through four of the five stages, anger and indignation, excuses, second thoughts, Maddie had landed here in the land of I'm such an idiot. After being pushed back into the only dry corner of her leaky tent, she surveyed the rain through the open tent flaps. While it might sound logical to tie the tent flaps open, watching the rain gave her something to do, besides think. Cell phones rarely worked up here, so she observed the water dripping from boughs of the huge evergreen surrounding the small clearing where her tent was staked. Maddie had made the three-hour trip back home from college this morning for her mother's birthday. Things started off well enough, but began to devolve after lunch, slowly at first with questions about her now ex-boyfriend. He was a cheater, Maddie. I told you he was. Her mother remarked as they loaded the dishwasher, probably implying that Maddie was unwilling or unable to see what was obvious to anyone with half a brain. Maddie's irritation blossomed immediately into resentment due to the absolute truth of her mother's statement. She had caught Todd cheating with a pretty blonde polysci major. Found her coming out of his dorm room, adjusting her clothes with a startled and guilty look on her face. Her perfect blonde face. The argument escalated from there. It ended with her mother saying that Todd was no great loss and it was okay just to be by yourself for a while. Maybe you're right, mom. Maddie said, making an attempt to hold her voice level and calm. Maybe I do need a little time for myself. I think I'll head up to the trailway campground for the night. Having made up her mind, Maddie headed into her old bedroom to hastily gather her camping gear. Her mother stood in the kitchen, looking down the hallway after her. Throwing her stuff in the car, she'd quickly backed out of the driveway. Her father in the garage had given her a puzzled look. Lowering the window, she gave her dad a half-hearted wave and said, Going camping, be back tomorrow. Okay, be careful, he said. Twice on the drive up to the old trailway campground, she'd almost changed her mind. But stubbornness won out. 40 minutes later, arriving at the near-empty campground, Maddie took notice of her immediate surroundings. There was an older couple just packing up to leave and a family with three little kids, one of which looked to be in the early stages of a temper tantrum. Grabbing her gear from the trunk, she made a quick decision to hike to a more peaceful campsite. Making her way up the trail, the sound of a two-year-old screaming, I can't make me. In that high-pitched, ear-piercing tone, affirmed her choice. With her eyes on the trail, she reviewed the morning. Why did everything her mother said always feel like a jab? Maddie knew she didn't mean it that way. But they had settled into a child-slash-adult tug-of-war relationship in high school, and Maddie couldn't see her way out of it. Everything settled her. The day was cool with a soft breeze. The wavering leaves filtered the sunlight into a soft, dappled flow. The path occasionally led close to the edge of a steep drop-off. From here, she could catch the distant glimmer of a river winding its way through the valley. Her family had come up here often to camp on summer weekends. Maddie smiled to herself, as she remembered being six or seven and refusing to get in the car to leave. Her mother had coaxed her with promises of chocolate chip ice cream on the way home. She paused at an overlook and tried to call home, but there was no signal. Stopping momentarily, she considered going back. But the day was beautiful, and to be honest, coming here had taken her mind off her miserable train wreck of a love life. After hiking for just shy of an hour, she noticed a small clearing through the trees, a short distance from the trail, and decided to set up camp. There was even a circle of rocks at the center she could use for a fire. When her tent was set up, Maddie took a short hike to check out the area. Her ten-minute trek through the woods ended abruptly at a steep overlook. Maddie rested here on a large flat rock and looked out over the valley below. On her way back, she gathered brush and kindling, then started a small fire to cook the hot dog she had picked up on the way here. Using sticks held over the fire, she had barely had time to heat the food before heavy clouds rolled in. Gathering up her backpack and supplies, Maddie headed into her tent to wait out the storm. The rain came in torrents, and the ground beneath one side of the tent began to dampen and puddle. Realizing too late that her sleeping bag was taking on water, she crammed everything over to the dry side. After an hour, the rain changed to a drizzle and then stopped altogether. With her sleeping bag wet and useless, she checked the large pocket in her backpack and with a huge sigh of relief pulled out her hammock. About 30 feet further into the forest, she found two trees just the right distance apart with no brambles or poison ivy underneath. Leaving everything but her flashlight inside the tent, she set up the hammock. Fully, dark now, Maddie was exhausted and the hammock was comfortable. Covering herself with her jacket, she soon fell asleep. She woke. To the sound of Brandy, her dog, scratching on Maddie's comforter. Brandy always scratched before circling around, then settling down to sleep. Through the fog of Maddie's sleep-addled brain, she knew that wasn't right. Brandy had died two years ago. Half-opening her eyes, she could see the gentle movement of leaves as she felt cool night air brush across her face. Maddie wasn't afraid, just calmly trying to place where exactly she was. As it slowly came back, her mom's birthday, the fight and the flight to the campground, Maddie noticed that she could still hear scratching. But it wasn't constant, there were long pauses in between. It sounded like someone was running something sharp, slowly down one side of her tent. Now, she came fully awake. She did not move. Heart pounding, her panic-infused brain could only come up with two possibilities. It was either a bear or a serial killer. If it was a bear, she had left her bear spray and her knife inside of her tent 30 feet away. If it was a serial killer, she had left her bear spray and her knife inside of her tent 30 feet away. Maddie made a quick assessment of what she did have. Other than her flashlight, she had her jacket with two zippered pockets. Inside one was her car keys, inside the other was her cell phone. That's it. She could try to make a run for it, but the intruder was between her and the trail. If Maddie went in the opposite direction, then she was heading toward the edge of a cliff. She decided to stay put and stay quiet. Right now, 30 feet of trees and shrubs were keeping her hidden, at least for now. Okay, she had a plan. Maybe it was a slightly pathetic plan, but it was something. Her rapid breathing slowed, beginning to calm, and ever so slowly, inch by silent inch, Maddie lifted her head and leaned up on her elbows to see if she could identify the intruder. The sky was still mostly cloudy, but as the darkly billowing forms flew across the face of the moon, there were moments of enough illumination to see the clearing. A large oak tree blocked the view of half the tent, but if she leaned just a little to the right, there was something on the ground at the base of her tent. It was about three feet around, and if it had been dark in color, she would have assumed it was a small bear. But it was pale, and instead of fur, there was skin. And when one long pale arm suddenly jutted up toward the peak of her tent, she realized that it was crouched down, peering through one of the slices it had made in the canvas. She sucked in a huge gasp of breath, and then, catching herself, immediately silenced her breathing. Maddie didn't think that it could hear her, there was a constant slow breeze moving across the leaves, but hadn't she noticed a slight tilt of its head in her direction? A horrifying thought entered her mind. Maddie's father had told her that people can feel something staring at them, even from behind. It was a kind of ancient sixth sense programmed into our DNA. Immediately, she clamped her eyes shut. But with her eyes closed, her imagination ran wild. Maybe it knew she was here, maybe it was only pretending. Several minutes passed, and she became absolutely certain that the moment she had closed her eyes, that pale fleshy thing had begun to move silently towards her. Frozen in terror, Maddie was sure that when she gathered the courage to open her eyes, its face would be inches from hers. The image was so clear in her mind, and she began to feel its hot-fetted breath on her cheek. Perhaps Maddie would have stayed frozen, eyes tightly shut, all night, if not for the thump of something heavy smashing against a nearby tree. Her eyes flung open to a flurry of movement ahead. Things went flying out of her tent, her cooking gear, extra clothes, and shredded backpack were flung about, landing scattered on the wet ground. Something on all fours moved quickly out of the tent flap. Its angular head rapidly scanned the clearing and the woods beyond. Then it went rigid, head tilted to one side. Listening, Maddie held her breath. Making a series of clicking sounds, it rose up on two long emaciated legs and stood well above the top of her tent. It remained motionless for what seemed to Maddie like an eternity. Then, ducking under a low branch, it moved silently into the woods. After 20 minutes, Maddie wondered if she could try to get to her bear spray in the clearing in case it came back. But what if it wasn't really gone? What if it was waiting for her? Crouched down only a few feet into the forest. Waiting for her to come back to the clearing. She made a quick decision to stay hidden until sunrise, make her way silently back to the trail and then run like a bat out of hell. But it would be hours before dawn. What if she never made it out of here? Never saw her mom and dad again. Her chest and throat tightened with overwhelming regret. Wide awake, but keeping perfectly still, her mind was flooded with memories. Mostly, she thought about home. She remembered getting brandy as a puppy on her eighth birthday, the tiny wet nose nestling her hand then promptly falling asleep on her lap. In all of those camping trips, Maddie and her mom making homemade beef jerky and granola with nuts and dried berries. Dad teaching Maddie how to start a fire and how to make sure it's out before you leave. Taking turns telling scary stories around the campfire, her dad was the best at that. And always, just before turning in, Maddie would beg her father for just one more story. And he would tell her about the Manitou experimental forest. It was a huge tract of fenced off land just west of here. He would make up stories about an enormous concrete compound hidden far into the forest with level after level running deep underground. That was where they did their experiments. A lab of Dr. Frankenstein's creating living monstrosities that were never meant to see the light of day. But what if one gets out? Maddie would always ask. Her dad would reply solemnly. That's what the fences are for. Then, laughing, he would ruffle her hair and zip her into her little princess sleeping bag for the night. Once, years later, while on a hike with her dad, they had come across a high chain link fence topped with razor wire. There was a sign on the fence that read, Manitou experimental forest, private property, absolutely no admittance. She had looked at her dad then and asked, so what's really in there? Smiling, he replied, it's just a branch of the forest service. There are quite a few around the country. They study wildlife changes and watershed and they watch out for signs of new invasive species. This sounded reasonable, but as they hiked on, Maddie thought to herself that the security for just another branch of the forest service was a bit over the top. Now, cold and scared, her back aching from sitting in the same position for hours, the Manitou experimental forest took on a more sinister meaning. The clear brittle sound of a branch snapping behind her jolted Maddie back into reality. As she tried to leap out of her hammock, her left shoe caught on the fabric and she tumbled to the ground, landing hard on hands and knees. Jerking her head upright towards the sound, Maddie saw the scampering backside of a large white-tailed deer. Heart pounding, she watched it run for a good 30 yards before disappearing. It took her a minute to realize that she could now see a good distance into the woods. The sky was beginning to lighten. Rising to her feet, she looked around. Then, as quietly as possible, began to move through the trees, keeping well back from the clearing. When Maddie caught a glimpse of the trail, no longer able to hold back, she broke out into a full-on run and didn't slow down until reaching the campground parking lot. Doubled over and gasping for breath, Maddie straightened up long enough to fish out her car keys and open the door. She slid inside, slamming it closed and hitting the locks. The lot was empty. With a clear view of her immediate surroundings, she started up the car and gave herself a few minutes to catch her breath before pulling out onto the road. But it was a good 10 minutes of driving before her pounding heart began to return to normal. Maddie played it over again and again in her mind, always reaching the same conclusion. If she had been inside the tent, it would have killed her. This, she was sure of. Maddie was lucky to be alive. She was going home. But before she did, she had a stop to make. Pulling into her parents' driveway, Maddie saw that the garage lights were on. After depositing her bags on the kitchen table, she went through the breezeway into her father's workshop at the back of the garage. Her father was there, coffee in hand at his work table. Maddie smiled. Seeing her, he said, You're back early. Everything okay? I'm fine, but dad, Maddie paused for a moment. Promise me, you won't go hiking up at trailway campground. And that you never go alone. As an afterthought, she added, and always bring a firearm. What's brought this on? He asked. Maddie hesitated for a moment, knowing that what really happened would just sound like an overly vivid nightmare. She needed to make this believable. There was a warning posted at the trailhead. There's a mountain lion with cubs in the area. And I thought I saw something. Just promise me, okay? Alright, I promise. I wasn't planning on hiking anytime soon anyway. Smiling, he brushed a lock of hair out of her face. Want to see what I'm working on. Later, she smiled. I've got something I need to do. Maddie's mother woke to the smell of fresh coffee. Stepping into the kitchen, she spotted a triple layer cake at the center of the table, beautifully displayed on her grandmother's antique cake stand. Is that? She started. A dark chocolate cake, layered with strawberries and whipped cream, topped with grandma Ellen's world famous fluffy white frosting. Maddie finished. Her mother laughed, gave Maddie a big hug, and whispered, It's the breakfast of champions. Can we have a piece now? Maddie nodded. You're the birthday girl. They sat together in the sunlit kitchen, talking and laughing. Late in the afternoon, when the time arrived for Maddie to head back to school, both her parents stood in the driveway. As Maddie started the car, her mother ran over and gave her one last hug through the open window. With tears in her eyes, she said, This was the best birthday I ever had. I love you, sweetie. I love you too, mom. And with one last wave, Maddie pulled out of the driveway. Stopping at a gas station, Maddie realized she had one last thing to do. After looking up the number to the trailway campground, she reported a sighting of a cougar with cubs. They would post a warning at the trailheads, and that should put everyone on alert. It was the best she could do, telling them what really happened wasn't an option. They would never believe her. Two blocks down, Maddie entered the freeway, merged into traffic, and headed back to school. A song she loved began to play on her iPhone, and smiling, it occurred to her that she hadn't thought about Todd once in the past 24 hours. She was over him. It had only taken a mutated escapee from a secret government lab, but it had done the trick. A few moments later, Maddie began to sing.