Camping Tip #2: In case you didn't know. People are crazy, so watch out for that.

And so, here we are.

All I wanted was a nice camping trip with my best friend for a couple of days. That's it. I didn't ask for any of this. Yet, here I am, on this fine spring evening. The sky is clear, the moon is full and it would be pleasant if it wasn't for the fact I was about to die. I'm not even trying to be dramatic.

My head is pounding. It feels like there are a thousand hammering drums in my head that will never end. My throat is parched and every time I try to swallow it's like I'm eating sandpaper. It's not the hefty fire that crackles and pops ominously before me or the weird shrieking noise that's getting louder and closer with each passing second or even the fact that my once long black hair that fell to my elbows has been cut so it now barely brushes past my jawline. No, the thing that catches my attention first and foremost is the fact that my back is against a pole and my arms and legs have been tied securely to it with a rope.

"Peryn," says a raspy voice belonging to my best friend.

I look over at her, her once long blonde hair has been hacked away too, leaving a badly cut bob and like me she's been tied to a long metal pole.

"Hi, Per," she stares at me with wide eyes, "Can...you...Can you hear the birds singing?"

"Are you still hopped up on those berries?" I ask, she giggles and I frown.

"Oh wow, the night is...so pretty," she giggles again, her head swaying a little.

She's tied between her brother and his best friend who've also been fixed to the poles. They're both unconscious, I start praying for them to wake up soon.

"Wait," she says all starry-eyed, "can you see them?"

"See what?"

"The fairies," she whispers, "they're so pretty!"

Fear has fully settled in, clawing away at me as I see the dark figures of our captors coming closer and closer. How the hell did this happen? This was supposed to be a pleasant and peaceful camping trip. We were supposed to be spending five days camping in the wilds surrounded by nature, not five days of running for our lives from a crazy bear, rabid wolves and almost dying in a lake. How did it turn into such a horror fest? I'm exhausted, I'm hungry, my clothes are ripped and dirty, I have bruises in places I didn't even know you could get bruises, I haven't slept for forty-eight hours, and I'm pretty sure that angry bear is still stalking us.

"Oh my God," I breathe, frantically trying to undo the ropes but no matter how I hard I try they won't come off. It's no use, they've really knotted it tightly. It's beginning to cut the circulation in my hands and legs.

The sound of footsteps approaching pulls me out of my thoughts. The flickering light of the fire makes the duo look even more sinister. They step into the light of the fire and my jaw drops when I realise who the creepy pair are.

"You!" I gasp as I stare wide eyed at them, "you bastards!"

Flo Jo and Crud are wearing long white robes and a lot of wooden jewelry. I take in the long sticks they're carrying, the hats that look like – what I hope aren't real – deer skulls and the white swirling lines drawn onto their faces. This should bother me, this should really worry me but I've seen and done so many weird things these past few days that nothing seems to faze me anymore. This, I realize with horror, has become normality.

"What the hell is wrong with you people?" I ask, "You need help! Who does this?"

"Be quiet!" Flo Jo snaps.

"This evening!" Crud screeches as he raises the stick in the air, "this evening your bodies and souls shall be sacrificed to the great moon spirit above!"

I'm starting to think that maybe this camping trip was a bad idea after all.

"Oh great moon spirit above!" Flo Jo claps her hands and starts rubbing them together, "Accept our first human sacrifice and bless our lives with your mighty power!"

Crud reaches into his robe and pulls out a long dagger, the sharp metal glints in the moonlight. He passes it to Flo Jo with a curt nod. She pulls the knife to her lips and whispers something and then kisses it. Crud takes her staff and watches as she takes slow, mechanical steps towards me. My heart pounds so loud in my chest I'm afraid a heart attack is coming.

"No, no, no, no," I shake my head, "Stop it!"

"Relax child," she whispers, "I'm only going to slit your throat and drink your blood."

"You're fucking insane!" I scream. I shake and wiggle but the rope has been tied so tightly it's almost impossible.

I turn my face away and squeeze my eyes shut as she raises the dagger and –

A deep, growling roar cuts through the silence and we all freeze. Flo Jo's head snaps back and forth as she tries to find out where the noise came from. The roar sounds again, it echoes in the night and makes Crud jolt behind her.

"Honey, go check what that is," she says, "I think it's coming from the garage. It might be those damn wolves again."

Crud's sweaty face has turned ashen. "Uh, wolves? Honey, I don't think –"

"Go!" she hisses at him.

He jolts again and takes off running down the lane, disappearing into the darkness. Flo Jo huffs and turns back to me. She raises her knife and then, suddenly, comes to a stop. Her eyes slide shut as her knees buckle and she collapses face first into the hard ground. I look up, my heart in my throat, to find Jack standing before me, holding a shovel in his hands and wearing the same shocked expression as me. He takes his hardened gaze away from Flo Jo's unconscious self and glances at me. The steely look in his eyes melts away.

"Peryn," he says, dropping the shovel and stepping closer to me. "Are you okay?"

I nod and blink away the tears. Relief is a wave of warmth as Jack places a hand on my cheek. He leans forward and gives my forehead a quick kiss before he walks behind me. For a short, terrifying second I think he's run off somewhere but then I feel his hands tugging at the knots of the rope. I sigh. It takes longer than I would like but he soon cuts through the rope with something sharp and frees my hands and feet. I let out a long sigh as I step away from the pole.

"Where did you get the shovel?" I ask as I rub my wrists, their red raw from the rough rope.

"There's a small hut back there," he nudges his thumb to the patchy trail behind him, "They got all these weird tools. Do you know they have bayonet?"

I nod and look over at his pole and see the ropes lying on the floor.

"Okay but how did you get out?" I ask as he heads over to Callie.

"This," he says, waving a gold-plated pocket knife, "I had it in my back pocket."

I say, "Oliver's pocket knife?"

"No...no, that's JFK's pocket knife guys," Callie whispers like it's a great conspiracy, "Kam-Kaminiski isn't supposed to have that, it's like an American historical artifact or something. Y'know...y'know it's on the market for like fifteen thousand dollars? I...I don't even get how he got it...Kaminski's so, so shady, guys like what the hell? I mean, what's he doing with a dead president's pocket knife?"

Callie continues to ramble on as Jack starts cutting into the ropes tied around her. I walk over to Oliver who is still passed out against his pole. The firelight flickers across him, deepening the shadows on his face and giving him an ominous look. We have to be quick. Crud is going to be back any second.

"Oliver," I pat his cheek gently. "Oliver."

He doesn't move, his head just lolls to the side.

I pat his cheek again. Nothing. I frown and I smack him so hard across the face it leaves red mark on his cheek. His eyes snap open. He gasps, his hazel eyes flitting all over before they land on me.

"P-Peryn?" he splutters, "What the hell is going on?"

"Oh you know, the usual," I say, "We got drugged by a creepy married couple who want to sacrifice us to some great moon spirit."

He just stares at me, "What?"

I walk behind him and start tugging at his ropes but it's useless. I look over at Jack, he's freed Callie from the pole and is now holding her up since she's still feeling the effects of the berries. They won't be fully out of her system for another three hours. I wonder how we're all going to get away quickly with Callie so intoxicated on those berries. I'm really starting to hate camping. Oh, why did I think this would ever be good idea?

"Jack, give me the knife," I say.

He holds onto Callie with one arm on her waist and digs into the back pocket of his jeans with his free hand. He pulls out the knife and chucks it to me. I catch with it ease and turn back to Oliver. I cut through the ropes around his shoulders, then the ones on his hands and finally, I bend down and cut the ones around his feet. Oliver stumbles away from the pole with a long sigh.

"Is that mine?" he asks, spotting the knife in my hand.

"Uh, yeah," I say and hand it over to him.

"Oh my God," he grins, turning the pocket knife over in his hands, "Stanley, my baby."

Callie's eyebrows draw together as she watches him, "You're so weird."

Oliver ignores her and continues to shower the pocket knife with love.

"We need to go now," Jack says, "Now."

"Jack, look...I'm fine," Callie says, prying herself from him.

He says, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm good," she says, taking a deep breath, "I feel weird but...I'll be fine."

She wobbles for the first couple of steps and despite the small limp in her walk, she's fine. I look around and see that the light from the fire shows a pathway between a pair of great oak trees.

"Let's go then," I say.

We stay close together as we start walking down the path. Callie comes up beside me and slips her hand in mine. I squeeze her hand and she seems to relax a little. The gravel crunches beneath our feet and in the distance, there is the sound of owls hooting and crickets chirping. It would be pitch black if it wasn't for the moonlight filtering through the trees and illuminating the way. Everything has an eerie glow this time of night. It feels like there's something hiding in every corner, waiting to pounce.

"What time is it?" I ask.

Oliver glances at his wristwatch, "it's three in the morning."

As we keep on walking the trees and the thick foliage gives way to open space and the path becomes steeper downhill. Below, we see the farm house, bathed in moonlight. Jack's eyes light up and I follow his gaze, wondering what he's seen. That's when I spot the black SUV sitting in the driveway and I grin.

"C'mon," Jack says, as he starts jogging downhill.

He comes to a screeching halt when a figure jumps out of the bushes and into the moonlight. It takes me a second to realise it's Crud and he's holding a shotgun in his hands. He points it squarely at the four of us.

"I don't know where you kids think you're going," Crud says, taking a step forward, "but it's the wrong way."

Jack opens his mouth to say something but a great, rumbling roar cuts him off. I gasp. It's the same roar from earlier. Crud looks around panicked, aiming his shotgun at the sky, at the trees, anywhere and everywhere as he tries to pinpoint where the sound came from. 

Oliver the takes opportunity to chuck his pocket knife straight at him. Crud turns just in time to let it smack him right in the eye. He screeches and the shotgun falls to the floor as he goes to cover his eye. Crud glances down at his hand, there's splotches of blood smeared across it and he gasps. He looks like he's seconds away from fainting.

My eyes flick down to the gun. He's too preoccupied with his bleeding eye to notice so I let go of Callie's hand and run to pick up the shotgun and Oliver's pocket knife. As I throw the knife back to Oliver, Callie runs forward and kicks Crud in the groin as hard as she can. He screams and falls to the floor.

"You bastard!" she shouts and kicks him in his stomach. Again and again. "You creepy son of a bitch! Kiss my foot! Kiss it!"

"Callie!" Jack grabs her arm and pulls her away, "That's enough! You're going to kill him!"

"Do you even know how to use that?" Oliver says, noticing the shotgun in my hands.

"It's not rocket science, Oliver," I say as I check if it's loaded. It is. "You just pull the trigger right? Plus, I've seen enough Walking Dead episodes to guess."

Oliver grins. "Alright then."

"Guys, c'mon," Jack says, tugging Callie down the path, "do you want to be sacrificed the great moon spirit above?"

We take off running through the last bit of the wooded path and out into the open space.