Page 18 of Obscurity (Pros and Cons Mysteries #5)

T he trail began to descend, offering a small amount of relief for their weary muscles.

“Not much longer.” Max’s voice carried forced enthusiasm. “Just another few miles to paradise.”

Just as he said the words, a man materialized from the forest like a ghost given flesh.

Olive sucked in a breath, and several people gasped or let out soft screams.

One moment the trail ahead had been empty. The next, this man stood blocking their path, emerging from what looked like a solid wall of rhododendron and mountain laurel.

No rustling branches had announced his approach, no snapping twigs. He simply appeared as if the forest itself had birthed him from its shadows.

The entire group stopped as if they’d hit an invisible wall, the cheerful chatter of the hike dying instantly.

Several people took instinctive steps backward. Maya’s phone, which had been recording almost constantly, trembled in her suddenly unsteady hands.

The silence stretched, broken only by the sound of nearly a hundred people trying not to breathe too loudly.

Olive observed the man a moment. He was lean and weathered, probably in his sixties.

His sun-carved features spoke of decades spent in these mountains.

His clothing—faded flannel, worn denim, and boots that had seen countless miles of rough terrain—marked him as someone who belonged to this wilderness rather than someone merely visiting it.

But his eyes were what made Olive’s breath catch. They held the stillness of a predatory cat, taking in every face in the group.

Behind him, just visible through gaps in the foliage, other shadows shifted. Not wind-blown branches or forest debris—movement that was more deliberate.

The Dark Watchers?

Were these the men she’d seen last night from her bedroom window? Had they sabotaged the shuttle?

Her heart pounded harder.

How many? Olive couldn’t tell.

But the message was clear: This wasn’t a chance encounter with a lone mountain man.

Jason moved closer as if ready to protect Olive if needed.

Funny, as of late Olive was usually the one doing the protecting. But she liked the idea of someone watching out for her—maybe she liked it a little too much.

“Y’all heading down to Grayfall?” The man’s Appalachian accent was thick with generations of mountain life.

“That’s right.” Max’s hand moved instinctively toward his radio. “Just taking some friends to see the old mining town.”

The man’s eyes swept the group. “Awful strange place for carryin’ on like that. Been happenings down yonder in town that ain’t natural-like. Things that don’t belong nowhere near decent folk.”

“What kind of things?” Maya’s voice trembled as she asked the question.

The man’s gaze fixed on her. “The kind that sends folks with a lick of sense packin’ back the way they come. Everyone knows six people died in them mines. Their spirits still haunt the place, not ready to go home yet.”

A chill swept over Olive.

His warning was loud and clear.

This area wasn’t safe.

What Olive wasn’t sure about was why.

Max stepped forward, his posture shifting into something more aggressive. “Sir, I appreciate your concern, but we’re on a tight schedule. We don’t want to keep people from their plans.”

“Plans got a way of changin’.” The man didn’t back down despite Max’s intimidating stance. “But some things, once they get to rollin’, ain’t no stoppin’ ‘em.”

The Grayfall Guardian, Olive mused. That became this man’s nickname in her mind.

As he spoke, Olive glanced into the woods. This guy had at least three friends with him. They were no longer hiding.

In fact, they all stood close, as if on standby in case things went south.

Or in case they wanted to make things go south.

Her heart pounded harder.

“Hey, hillbilly. You got any moonshine?” Frat Boy yelled from the back of the group.

Olive’s muscles tightened.

A round of hoots and hollers came from a few of his friends.

Maya scowled before turning back to the Grayfall Guardian. “Do you live around here?”

“All my life. I protect these here woods. Someone’s gotta.”

“Protect them from what?” another man asked.

“Predators.” The word hung in the air.

“Predators?” someone echoed. “What exactly have we gotten ourselves into? Did you guys hire this lunatic to add to the backwoods experience? Please tell me you did.”

“No, sir,” Max said, lifting his radio to call this in.

“We did not. But we have every right to use this trail. And the county gave us permission to use Grayfall. We’re paying a pretty penny for it.

Not only that, but we hired locals to help us set up.

We gave them jobs where there weren’t any. You guys should be grateful.”

“Grateful, my foot.” Grayfall Guardian turned to the crowd, his weathered face grave with unspoken knowledge.

“I reckon at least some of y’all got good sense, so listen up.

Y’all are fixin’ to head into somethin’ you don’t wanna mess with in them thar hills.

Still time to hightail it back to wherever y’all came from afore it’s too late. ”

With that cryptic warning, he and his friends melted back into the forest as suddenly as they’d appeared. They left the group staring at the empty trail and wondering what exactly they were walking into.

But all Olive could think about was the possibility that this man—someone who kept an eye on everything going on in this area—might know something about Chloe.