The Rules:

An Appalachian Trail Horror Story

By Howlietzer

Part 1: Scene 3

The camera faces the parking lot and the sun is over the horizon. Antwone mumbles incoherently into the camera mic. The sound of little wheels on the rolling on the sidewalk pleasantly rap in his brain as he approaches Lance’s ford escape.

Lance stood up against the trunk, arms crossed, his dark sunglasses making him look a bit intimidating. But from experience, Antwone knew he was asleep.

“Hey wake up!” Antwone shouted over.

Lance flinched. An exasperated moan escaped.

“Not so loud, dude.”

“Hung over?”

His face twitch slightly in a, no-shit-sherlock kind of way. Antwone grinned. He was a bit hungover himself.

“Breakfast. Denny’s?”

Lance grinned, but Antwone could tell it hurt more than frowning.

“Surprised I’m the first one here.”

“No, Ned’s here. He’s just already inside.”

Ned popped his head out the window. “We were supposed to be gone 26 minutes ago.”

“Yeah…” said Antwone, “My bad. Too much to drink last night.”

“My offer to drive still stands,” said Ned. He didn’t drink.

Lance winced. No one drove his car but him.

“Did you text Judy?”

Lance looked annoyed, “Yes.”

“Dude chill,” he turned around in the parking lot. “Where’s Dave?”

Lance shrugged.

Antwone mumbled into the mic. “Damn, guy. geeze… Ah, there she is! Little miss sunshine!”

Judy and Libby came marching towards the vehicle. Large rucksacks on their backs.

“Whoa!” Antwone focused in. “Suddenly I feel like I underpacked.”

Judy laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty of supplies for everyone.”

“I can share too,” Lance said hastily.

Antwone went from Lance to Judy, then to Libby.

“Libby, you party too hard last night?” said Antwone.

“Oh my god, Antwone!” she screeched rubbing her temples, “Shut the fuck up!”

“God damn,” he mumbled. “Catching strays all over the place.”

He panned back over to Lance, who seemed to be having a belly laugh.

“Well, I’m glad you’re in a better mood. What are the seating arrangements?”

“I could sit on someone’s lap, if needed,” said Libby.

“No comment,” Antwone mumbled.

He turned the camera to Ned. “I need to sit in the back, driver’s side.”

“Oddly specific.”

“Judy,” said Lance, “Could you sit…”

“Shotgun!” shouted Dave, sprinting towards them.

“What were you going to say, Lance?” said Judy, setting her rucksack against the back.

“I called shotgun,” Dave said to Lance.

Lance looked at the camera, his good mood evaporating. “He called shotgun. I was hoping you could help navigate, but…”

“I can navigate bro,” said Dave.

“But Dave called shotgun. So, I guess he’ll help,” said Lance, annoyed.

“Oh, okay,” she said cheerfully, “No worries.”

Lance glared into the camera.

“God damn…”

“I can still sit on someone’s lap,” said Libby.

“I think your shampoo will make me car sick,” said Ned

“I gotta navigate,” said Dave, finger guns and nodding.

“Honestly,” said Judy, “I think we can all squeeze in the back.”

“I’ll just chill in the trunk with the luggage,” said Antwone.

Camera goes black.