You Really Don’t Want to Break Down in the Mountains, Pictures Included

My years of experience camping in Colorado’s forests makes me almost uniquely qualified to say just how absolutely screwed I am.
I can already hear you saying: “Derek going out into the wilderness to look for your sister in sub 0 temperatures isn’t a game.†Game or not, I’ve certainly lost.
Freakin’ Tara. She knew there’d been historic snowfalls during the past weeks. She’d known that the temperatures were going to be hitting high’s of -10 degrees Farenheit all weekend. So what does she do? She plans a weekend camping trip with her stupid boyfriend Jessie who’d never so much as slept in a sleeping bag before.
They left two days ago. This morning I got this message from her on my phone:

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Derek, We’re in a bit of a pinch out here. Last night Jessie got up to grab something from the car and left one of the lights in my car on. With the light and the low temperatures last night, our battery died. My phone’s almost dead too. We’re down Lake Como Road near Alamosa. Be careful on your way down here, the roads are bad. In the meantime we’ll try to keep warm. -Tara

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So, like the great older brother I am, I set out in my truck. It was a few hours drive from my home to get here, but after a few hours of driving I made it.

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HERE’S A BIT OF THE FOOTAGE FROM THE DRIVE OUT THERE

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I was, without exaggeration, hours from anywhere. I kept asking myself why Tara had to camp in the most remote area possible, but that’s just how she was.
I saw her car pulled off to the side of the road, so I pulled off myself. I followed their tracks in the knee-high snow until I reached their campsite.
It looked absolutely trashed.
Camp chairs were thrown everywhere, and I the snow had been kicked around. I saw something dark on the ground. I flipped on my headlamp and saw that it was a dark red color.
The tent was the only structure still intact. I called out, but heard no response. I opened their tent flap and saw their sleeping bags still on the floor.

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PICTURE OF THEIR SLEEPING BAGS

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I was starting to get extremely worried. Tara wasn’t an idiot, but I couldn’t think of any good reason why they’d leave their campsite otherwise. The wind was bitter cold on my cheeks. I checked my watch, and even while still on my wrist it displayed a 0 degree temperature.
Not good.
I traced a perimeter around their camp, and found a set of three snowmobile tracks in the snow, leading off into the woods. There were at least six or seven sets of footprints surrounding them. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Best case? They were some forest rangers who’d stumbled across them. Worst case? I didn’t want to think about it.
I started following the tracks in the rapidly darkening twilight. The snow made travel difficult, but after almost half an hour of walking I saw a wooden structure up in the distance.
It definitely wasn’t a ranger station.
It was a decrepit old wooden building. I stayed low, flipping off my light and walking forward towards the house. I couldn’t see details, so I took a 3 second exposure picture on my phone to get a better look at the house.

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PICTURE OF THE HOUSE I CAME ACROSS

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I couldn’t hear anything. Not in the normal sense of “nothing caught my attentionâ€. If you’ve ever been in the woods after a heavy snowfall you know just how silent the world can get. The soft zip-zip sounds of my snow pants were like gunshots in the relative silence.
I made my way around the building, listening for the sounds of my sister. I was listening so hard, I didn’t notice the little boy until he spoke.
“Why are you walking around my Poppa’s house?â€
I jerked to my right. A boy, no older than seven, was sitting down against the wall of the cabin. He wore an absolutely filthy t shirt and jeans, and was barefoot despite the snowy ground. He stared at me with a curious expression.
“Uh, no reason,†I said. I was pretty sure I’d seen blood at the campsite, so I didn’t want this kid to alert anyone inside, regardless of their intentions. “Hey kid, did you see a woman and a man around here recently?â€
“Oh yeah, Silas and Virgil and my cousins grabbed them earlier today.â€
I nodded. “And where are they now?â€
“I dunno, they’re probably with the visitors by now.â€
I paused. No use freaking out, so I forced my voice to remain calm. “Who are the visitors?†I asked.
He looked at me sharply. “I can’t talk about them. Poppa’d whoop me.†His expression relaxed. “Don’t worry, the visitors only get new people once a year. It’s not like you’re gonna be here next year so you’re fine.†He settled back with a smile.
I looked around. “So, where do you give the people to the visitors?†I asked.
The kid pointed into the woods. “There’s a cabin that way that we use. The visitors grab ‘em from there.†I saw a few snowmobile tracks heading in the direction.
“Thanks,†I said. “Do me a favor, would you?†I pulled out a ten dollar bill. “Don’t tell your Poppa that you talked with me. It’s like you said, no new people for another year, right?â€
He looked at the bill, his eyes growing wide. “Sure, whatever mister.†He jumped up and snatched it from me.
I turned away and started walking in the woods. I’d been walking for what must’ve been twenty minutes along the trail when I heard a new noise for the first time. Snowmobile engines. I turned to my right, and jumped off the trail, tramping through the snow. When I’d gotten as far as I dared, I jumped flat onto my face and waited, motionless.
I heard a series of snowmobiles race by beside my head. None stopped.
When I got back up to start moving again, I stayed off the main trail. I also started recording a video.

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VIDEO OF ME WALKING THROUGH THE WOODS TOWARDS THE CABIN

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I saw the cabin in the distance, and picked up my pace. I also began hearing sounds in the distance. They were hard to describe, but I’d say they were a mix of growling and clicking. It sounded almost like a lion at the zoo. I flipped off my light and paused in the snow, and eventually they receded.
I flipped my light back on and made my way towards the cabin, not sure what I’d find.
I found nothing. The cabin only had three walls, and when I turned the corner I saw that it was empty, holding only a bedframe.
Well, not empty-empty.
A frilly scarf, just like the kind Tara always used, was on the side of the bed. I checked for more tracks, but the only ones I could see were the ones leading to the snowmobile tracks.
That meant that Tara had to still be with the kid’s family. Unless... I wondered what the kid meant when he said ‘visitors. Maybe there was something else in these woods.
I left the cabin behind, making my way back through the woods to the road, following it down to my car. All four tires had been slashed, my windows had been broken in, and long scratches had been carved into the sides.
Deep scratches. It looked like a bear had taken a claw to the hood of my car, four nails at a time.
I opened the door and shut it behind me, shaking my head at the fact that it was nearly worthless as a shelter.
So yeah, I’m pretty screwed. I’m a hundred miles from civilization with barely any water, no food, no transportation, all in way below zero temperatures.
But the worst part?
I think I'm starting to hear those growling sounds again.


Source.