Gosh, are we lost? Ashur saw the sun start to set. They had gone off roads and he couldn't figure out where their new secret beach was. It was right around here, he had to remember. Marcel truly had fallen asleep and so had Lin.

"I swear to God, if your ass got us lost," Indira growled. "I'm going to kill you."

"Or a serial killer will," Erwin added.

They were deep in the woods, Ashur mistook it as a local road. He wasn't feeling positive about their situation but wanted their summer to go well. But so far, it has been a summer gone wrong. Utterly wrong.

"Thanks a lot, guys," Ashur grunted as the van came to a halt. What the heck? Ashur started the engine again, but something felt off. "Hold on," he said, unbuckling his seat belt. He opened the door, walking around the van to see what was wrong. "Oh no, this isn't good."

A sleepy Lin poked her head out of the window. "What? I-I..." Lin dozed off.

"A flat tire, it looks like we can't get far," Ashur sucked in a deep breath. Why is everything going so wrong? "Can someone wake up Marcel? Maybe he'll have some better advice."

"We're all here," Erwin pointed out as the FFs filed out of the van. Lin flinched at the sight of the flat tire as Indira gasped. Marcel groggily jogged over to the flat tire, sighing. "No good news?"

"Nope, all bad news." Ashur cursed. "We're stranded in the middle of nowhere."

"Crap. We need to call a mechanic or our parents," Marcel fretted, his hands on his hips. He reached for his phone, but Lin shoved it away.

"No, we can't! I lied to my mom about coming here, I said I went over to Indira's house to paint our nails!" Lin blurted as the FFs stared blankly at her. "Please, she'd kill me. She'd never let me go to MIT."

"It doesn't matter," Erwin said, holding up his phone. "There's no signal here."

"A serial killer is going to murder us, starting with me and Erwin, the white dudes because that's how all horror films start," Marcel muttered and Ashur bit back a fit of giggles. "But Erwin's gay, so he has a head-start. Dammit."

"The film industry is wonderful with their inclusivity," Erwin kidded.

"Guys shut up, we need to get help," Indira snapped, massaging her temples. "God, I feel a migraine coming."

The FFs knew that Indira never joked about her head-splitting migraines. Lin grabbed Indira's wrist, guiding her to the van. "I think I have some Advil pills around here," she mumbled.

"Do you have a spare tire?" Marcel asked.

Ashur was embarrassed. "No, last summer, the same thing happened to my family. We forgot to add another tire to the trunk afterwards."

"Thanks a lot, Adeoye family..." Marcel grumbled. "But no offense to your Granny Adeoye, she's great friends with my grandmère."

The boys mucked around with the flat tire for a few minutes, but it became clear that they weren't getting on the road anytime soon. The sun was low and light was now scarce. Erwin scrunched up his button nose. "Maybe we walk around?"

"Into the forest?" Ashur retorted, turning to Marcel. "Back me up, Marcel—"

Marcel went pale as he opened the van's doors. "Get now, get in now," he demanded, alarm blaring in his eyes. Ashur and Erwin were quickly ushered inside the van with Lin and Indira. "Close the windows," Marcel said, slamming the doors shut.

"What's going on?" Indira asked groggily, waking up from a nap. "Where's M-Marcel?"

"I don't know," Lin frowned. "Ash, where's Marcel?"

"I don't know either! He just told us to get into the van, he looked spooked," Ashur said, craning his neck to see Marcel outside the window. He was trembling, staring at something in the distance. Shit, is it actually a serial killer? "Marcel, get your butt back in the van—"

"GO AWAY!" Marcel yelled, running forward. A sudden jerk moved the van as Marcel's screams rippled throughout the air. Marcel, Marcel, Ashur was dazed, slamming into the driver's seat.

"What the hell happened?!" Lin cried out as Indira unlocked the van's door. She kicked it open, running out. "Indira, Indira, come back! Indira!" Lindsey also hopped out of the vehicle, disappearing out of view.

"Oh shit," Ashur muttered, swinging the door wide open. He ran out, stopping short. He gasped, staring at Marcel's corpse. An axe was pierced through his ribcage, blood gushing out from his chest.

"Call for he-help!" Erwin stammered, behind Ashur. "Holy cow."

"Indira, move away," Lin said, her voice wavering. She paled, looking like she was going to vomit. Ashur grabbed ahold of her wrist, steadying her, his eyes still full of fear. "We need t-to find help for...Oh God..."

"FFs..." Marcel murmured as Indira cried. She held his chest, trying to stop the blood. Erwin rushed over, dropping to his knees, trying to steady Marcel's head. Marcel's eyes went a milky white, blank and unalive. "Indy..."

Marcel Fontaine was dead.

"No!" Indira screamed until her lungs gave away. Her shoulders sagged as she sobbed. Erwin wiped Marcel's blood off on his pants, shell-shocked. Lin pulled away from Ashur's grasp, he let her go, and she joined Indira. "He's d-dead."

"What happened?" Ashur couldn't stop staring at Marcel's body. It was so tough and rigid, it was unnatural. He tore his gaze away from Marcel and to the remaining FFs. Erwin was sitting on the striped grass, holding his head with his blood-dried hands. Lindsey was crying with Indira, wiping Indira's tears with the edge of her sleeves. "Who...who put that axe in Marcel's..."

He couldn't finish his sentence.

"I don't know, but someone hurt h-him," Indira spat, her lips quivering. "And I want to make them pay."

"We're not hurting anyone," Erwin protested, standing up. He grabbed Marcel's ankles, dragging him away to the van. They stared at him as if he was insane. "Let's face it, FFs. Whoever killed M-Marcel, they'll be back to also kill us in Bombard Forest."

Ashur went pale. "B-Bombard Forest? Oh crap, I-I didn't realize this was Bombard."

Lindsey stood up, helping Indira up as well. "Bombard Forest?" she asked, dusting her miniskirt off. "I never heard of that name before, I would expect a Hawaiian name or something."

"Bombard Forest is dangerous," Ashur said quickly, his palms becoming sweaty. Grandma Adeoye had told him the tale of this forest many times when he was a child, saying to never enter. "Long ago, some white men came to Honolulu, Oahu, way before the tourist boom for resources in this forest. They had slaves of all races, mostly native or half Hawaiians I believe, to cut lumber here. The slaves didn't know they were enslaved, all they knew was that these powerful white men were promising them land.

"Of course, safety regulations weren't a big deal to them until a man died on the property. His name was Graham Johnston, I don't know how he was killed, but the owners were freaked out that someone would catch onto their scheme. So they closed everything up and the remaining slaves were left with only a few pennies."

"Okay, that's obviously sad, but how does that respond with our friend ending up with an axe in his chest?!" Erwin shouted, flinching at Indira's miserable expression. "Sorry, Indira."

Ashur licked his lips. "Grandma Adeoye said th-that Graham Johnston is still looking for revenge on the slave owners for lying about the land, they never had any to give to the slaves. Graham carries the axe he was buried with and stalks Bombard Forest, preying on visitors."

"Great, this forest is haunted," Lin muttered. "Haunted or not, we have to find help. I say that we find an exit from the forest, get some help or find a phone, and come back for the van and Marcel after—"

"No, no, we can't leave Marcel," Indira cried out, wrangling from Lindsey's grasp, and heading to the trunk of the van. She sank to the ground and sobbed. "We can't l-leave him, I'll stay with him."

"Indira," Ashur said, coming over. He had never seen Indira Singh, the toughest girl in the world, hurt so badly. It gutted him. He grabbed her shoulder, pulling her up. "We can't stay here, and if you stay alone, the killer will come back. Marcel's gone, but he would want you to come with us."

"We all miss Marcel," Lin added.

Indria wiped the tears from her face. "Okay."

Erwin crossed his arms. "Graham Johnston isn't real, right?"

Ashur sighed. "If I only knew."