Ryan Wiley - Disappearance

When I make my way through this final path, I go as far as I have with the previous three but still see no signs of the cabin or the woods ending. I continue walking, going much farther than I have with any of the previous trails. I reach a point where I know there’s no possible way I went this far into the woods. My body collapses down by the nearest tree.

My plan has failed. One of the four paths I took should have taken me out of here. The only thing I can do now is continue going further with the paths I’ve already taken, but I have strong doubts this will make a difference. Is this some magical forest that’s impossible to get out of? With the way things have gone lately, nothing would surprise me. Whoever hid the body I found earlier put it in a safe spot; there’s no getting out of here.

Lying next to this tree, I realize just how exhausted I am. I’ve done a lot of tree chopping. I close my eyes and try to relax myself as much as possible, but I know there’s very little hope left of making it out of here today.

As I keep my eyes closed, minutes go by and I begin to wonder how much daylight I have left. How long have I been stuck out in these woods? I get my answer when I feel something brush up against my leg.

“Meow.”

I’m startled by what I see when I open my eyes.

“Hey little Tabby, where did you come from?”

Getting lost in the woods, I had completely forgotten about my black cat theory. Before I went in the woods, I was planning on sitting outside in the cabin’s backyard to see if a cat would arrive. In a way, I’m glad it happened this way. Now I know without a doubt my theories are true. There’s no way a freakin’ cat would be here unless I was in some fantasy world.

Tabby rubs her face against my leg, which I have to admit is pretty cute. This lifts my spirits — who knew the company of a magical mystery cat could cheer me up this much.

I start petting her, which she seems to like because she starts purring. I do this for a couple minutes and then I realize this is the first time during these past few days she’s allowed me to pet her. Every other time she’s been too scared for me to get anywhere near her. This time she doesn’t seem to want to leave!

I continue sitting by the tree and as I do, Tabby lies on my lap and takes a nap. I didn’t know it was possible for cats to purr while they sleep but she proves to me they can.

As much as I would love to lie here for the next couple hours and take a nap, I really don’t want to spend the night in the middle of the forest. If I don’t get a move on it, then that’s exactly what I’m going to end up doing. There’s only a few hours of daylight left.

I have to admit, Cujo is another thing that’s been crossing my mind. Will he still come even if he’s dead? From what I can tell, he has shown up around six o’clock everyday. Tabby’s appearance proves it doesn’t matter where I am; Cujo will always come. With just an ax and one good arm to protect myself, I wouldn’t have a chance to fight him off today. I’m also not a tree climber, so I don’t have the option of heading for safer grounds.

To sum it up, I’m screwed if Cujo does come. If I can get to the cabin within the next two hours, I can grab a gun to protect myself.

I pull the little kitty off of me, feeling bad I woke her from her peaceful sleep. She seems to wake up quickly though and lets out a big stretch. On the last two paths I took, I went much farther than the first two. I figure my best course of action would be to turn back to the base tree and go down that first path again, this time going farther.

I get to my feet and shout out in pain, as I have to move my ribs in order to accomplish this. I take a step forward but once I do, Tabby runs out in front of me and I almost step on her.

“Watch where you’re going!”

I step over her and continue walking but she moves ahead of me again and starts hissing. I don’t have much experience with cats but I do know if they hiss at you, you’re in trouble. While cats and dogs may come in small sizes, they can be pretty vicious when they get upset.

“What do you want from me?”

I try to walk around her again, but she seems determined to prevent me from going this way. It can’t be normal for a cat to do something like this. I make one last attempt to go around her, but she jumps up at me and starts hissing again.

“Seriously, what is your problem?”

The cat walks up and rubs its face against me. I’m annoyed so I find it less cute this time, but then she starts walking behind me. She’s walking a little to the right of the last trail I was going then turns around and looks at me.

“What do you want me to do, follow you?”

This is ludicrous; I’m not going to follow a cat. It’s probably just looking for a good spot to poop. Besides, if I get lost — cat or no cat — it could be days before I figure a way out and by then I might die.

Nevertheless, the thought of going back and continuing down trails I’ve already made sounds exhausting. I’d rather be completely lost with Tabby than be stuck alone in the woods again. I walk toward her just to see what she will do. Sure enough, this crazy black cat that appeared out of thin air wants me to follow her like she’s the leader and I’m just a little boy scout.

Cats were made to live outside, so I’m sure they have better survival instincts than I do. It’s like birds that have internal GPS systems they use to travel south every year. Animals can do some extraordinary things without the use of human technology.

As I walk toward her she keeps about a ten-yard pace ahead of me, never looking back. I stop walking for a moment just to see what she’ll do. Sure enough, she turns around almost instantaneously and starts meowing at me. How incredible and weird this is .

We walk together for what seems like forever when I see it, the end of the forest. My pace picks up as Tabby runs forward. By the time I catch up to her again she’s lapping up water from the creek I bathed in a few hours earlier. I look up and see the familiar cabin. I did it! Well… we did it. I’m never going back in those woods again!

I squat down and pet her as she continues lapping up water.

“Good kitty. Good girl!”

I used to hate cats but now I will have a lifetime appreciation for them. I’m not sure if I ever would have made it out of the woods without my furry friend. Knowing where I am now, I realize I would have had to go a long way down my four paths before getting out of the woods. There’s no way I would have made it out today.

I make my way to the garage to check the time, Tabby runs along next to me. I open the car door and check the internal clock – a quarter after five.

That means I have around forty-five minutes — give or take fifteen minutes — before my friend Cujo is supposed to arrive. That’s just enough time to get myself prepared and ready. My left arm still hurts, but I think I can bend it enough to aim a gun at him.

I go downstairs to grab the gun. It takes awhile but I figure out how to open up the chamber. As for bullets, I take the first box I see and put one in the chamber to see if it fits. To me, it looks like it fits fine, but I really have no idea. Guess I’ll find out — I load the gun and make my way upstairs.

I decide I’ll stand by the garage door and wait for him. If he comes after me, I’ll be able to get one good shot in. If I miss, I can go back in the house and close the door. He can sit out there and bark all night. As long as I keep the outside and basement doors closed, there’s no way he can get inside no matter how angry he is. This is all assuming I miss, but I don’t plan on missing.

I stand by the door and wait, gun in hand, ready to fire. The cat continues to purr and rub against my leg, obviously not understanding the seriousness of the situation. This is added motivation to hit Cujo with the shot I have. If I miss and he attacks Tabby I’ll be like a mother protecting her young.