Noah held a daisy in his clenched fist as he stared down at the gravestone. Its polished surface caught the low rays of sunlight trickling through the trees, a reminder that the day was rapidly approaching its end. He threw a glance over his shoulder at his friends picnicking a ways back at a wooden table as his fingers unconsciously tugged at the few leaves studding the flower’s stem.
With a sigh, he knelt and laid the flower before the stone. He paused with his head bowed, breaths quickening as overwhelming loss swept over him. He squeezed his eyes shut and stood in quiet remembrance as the sun slowly lowered towards the horizon.
He eventually rose and meandered back to his friends, winding between rows of nearly identical gravestones to the table where three figures were unpacking sandwiches. All of them, himself included, were students of Oakridge Community College. The school was situated down the road from the cemetery in the suburbs of the city of Glenmore.
“This better not be bologna,” the girl named Leah said threateningly as she took a wrapped bundle from the backpack her brother Brian had set out. Both siblings had fair hair cut to slightly above shoulder length and reddish-brown eyes.
“It’s all bologna. The whole container went onto that sandwich,” Brian said with an evil smile.
Leah narrowed her eyes at him and opened her sandwich to reveal sliced turkey and cheese. She grinned and immediately smacked Brian before chomping into the food.
Noah smiled as he sat down beside Brian. Noah had decided on a whim to be an orientation leader back during the beginning of the fall semester, as he was currently in his second year of college and felt confident enough in his own knowledge about campus life to do a decent job introducing new students to the lay of the land. Brian had been one of a dozen kids assigned to his group, and Noah had rapidly grown attached to the good-natured and surprisingly capable young man. They had made arrangements to room together (along with another random first year whom Noah still barely knew, two months later) and had grown to consider each other like brothers in that short time. He’d met Brian’s sister in the first week of classes and found her to be equally good company.
The small form of May sat across from him, laughing with a hand over her mouth at the siblings’ antics. Noah hadn’t technically invited her on their outing, as he barely knew her. She was good friends with Leah, however, and Leah had asked if she could tag along. She spoke very little, though Noah had noticed she did seem to sneeze a lot. She had a very pretty face with East Asian features.
Noah glanced at her warily as she began to lean back for the upteenth time, inhaling sharply. She explosively sneezed once more, quickly stifling herself and rubbing her bright red nose.
“Sorry,” she squeaked. “I promise it’s just allergies.”
Leah nudged her playfully. “We’ll see about that in three days, huh?”
“Don’t even joke. I get like this every year, you know,” May grumbled.
Noah glanced away. They were of course referencing the Wager, the incurable illness capable of killing a man through arbitrary, almost supernatural means. Precisely seventy-two hours following infection, a victim would either die abruptly of overwhelming and body-spanning organ failure, or be left wholly unharmed and go on with their day (likely with a new appreciation for life). A runny nose was the sole symptom.
The Wager may have been a rare illness, but the first case had occurred just a few years ago. Its recent emergence paired with its mysterious nature made it a hot topic of speculation around the world. Noah’s mom had come down with it exactly one year and three days ago.
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That fact must have suddenly occurred to Leah, for she glanced over at Noah apprehensively. He just waved a hand. The Wager was far too popular a subject of discussion for him to have not long since grown inured to its mention.
Brian looked between them before grabbing an armful of sandwiches from his backpack and distributing them around the table. Each one was wrapped very neatly in a checkered blue and white cloth, in typical Brian style.
“You, uh, doing okay?” Brian asked hesitantly after Noah had gratefully received his sandwich.
Noah nodded as he lifted the fold of cloth, carefully unwrapping it. Something about it being so nicely packaged made him want to handle it with the same care Brian put into putting it together. Once the sandwich was framed by the unfurled petals of the cloth, Noah smiled and looked at his friend. “Yeah. I miss her. Of course. Thanks for coming out here with me.”
Brian took a large bite of his sandwich and nodded seriously, then opened his mouth and started talking. Unlike May, he didn’t cover his mouth, so the action sprayed Noah with food detritus. “I don’t know what I would do if I lost someone like that. You seem to handle it pretty well, but… uh, we’re here for you, you know? What kind of lousy friends would we have to be to leave you alone today?”
Leah nodded vigorously along with his words, and May smiled supportively despite only having met him a scant few hours earlier.
Noah grinned at Brian and bit into his sandwich. “Hmm, I only invited you for your expert cheffery. I would definitely be despairing all by my lonesome right now if you didn’t do such excellent work with these sandwiches.”
Brian scoffed and lightly punched him while May and Leah laughed at him.
Silence soon overtook the table as the four of them focused on finishing their food. By the time each of them were shaking the crumbs out of their napkins, the shadows had lengthened enough to make Noah glance around at their darkening surroundings and roll his cloth napkin up pointedly.
“I don’t want to be stuck out here when it really starts getting dark. Way too many small hard tripping hazards lying around this particular environment.”
“Yes, that seems like a highly ironic way to go out,” Leah agreed as she stood up.
The other two followed suit without complaint, with Brian carefully re-folding everyone’s napkins before placing them one at a time back in his backpack.
They collectively made their way onto the cemetery’s gravel path. It wound around the edge of the clearing before veering into the woods, cutting through a small section of it to eventually end up at a paved road.
Noah tried to take one last look at the gravestone marked by a freshly cut daisy, but it was already too dark to make it out among the rows of identical grave markers.
Walking into the trees was like passing into a dark veil. They had severely underestimated how dark it would be in the woods. Noah followed his friends down the path nearly blindly, gazing around at their surroundings ineffectually. His vision was like a bad camera in the dark, full of shifting grainy artifacts.
Nearly a full minute passed before Brian suddenly blurted, “Hey, I’ve got flashlights!” His tone implied he had only just remembered this fact.
They all stopped as he fished them out of his backpack, pulling out two. They had a slim handle that widened into a square socket. Noah knew they were both dull black metal despite it being too dark at the moment to properly see their color. Brian carried them around everywhere, although Noah had never seen him actually use them until now. Brian gave one to Noah and kept the other for himself.
Noah flicked his on and shone it around. The gravestones cast long, square shadows in gridded patterns as he swiveled the light back and forth.
They walked quickly, all of them eager to get back to the main road. The gravestones were soon left behind and replaced by thickly growing trees curving over the path.
After about thirty seconds Brian began to slow down for no immediately apparent reason.
“Why are we stopping?” Leah wanted to know.
Brian silently thrust his flashlight forward. Noah peered ahead, realizing with an unpleasant jolt of surprise that the path diverged into two, the gaps in the forest staring back at them like hollow eyes.
“I don’t remember a fork in the path,” Brian said.
