“Um, Sparks, do you get the sense we’re alone?” I whisper to my faithful Bengal cat, as I quietly inch down the zipper and stick my head out the opening of my tent. I can see the embers still glowing an ashy orange in the fire pit from s’mores last night. As I survey the campsite I don’t see any lights in the other 2 tents where my brother and my parents were staying. What is odd though, is that there are no shoes at the entrance of their tents.

Sparks slinks out of our tent and starts sniffing the air with his expert nose. I cautiously slip into my crocs left outside my tent and do the same. All I can smell is the faint smell of campfire, and the citronella from the nearly gallon sized candle that mom insisted on bringing to keep away the mosquitoes. Sparks has obviously picked up on something more than I have and his whole body goes stock still as he stares down the trail that leads to the falls.

“Something doesn’t feel right here. It’s too still.” I say to Sparks, who has already started down the path to the Kaaterskill Falls. As I slip on my jacket, I look up to see that it is nearly dawn. The sky is a very faint gray now, but there is no sign of the sun. I wouldn’t be able to see the horizon anyway because the trees are so tall and densely packed where I am. Oaks, pines, firs, aspens, in all their Catskill glory.

I grab my tacti-pen, a ridiculously useful multi tool, turn on the flashlight end, and walk slash jog to catch up to Sparks. I am trying to convince myself that Mom, Dad and Chris decided to hike up the to falls to get a view of the sunrise, but as I look down the trail I see something that stops me dead in my tracks. A message, one that I know was left for me by my brother. Three sticks laid across each other to form a wobbly “A”.

“Holy shit,” I exhale. This letter A tells me all I need to know. “Sparks, we’ve got trouble.” The A means Alice is back.

I no sooner get the words out of my mouth when I feel an arm hook around my neck and simultaneously my feet swiped out from under me. As a curtain of black comes over my vision, the last thing I hear is “I told you I’d be back.” Then I’m out.

As I come back into consciousness I realize that can’t move my body. I open my eyes a slit and realize that I am tied to a tree! I’m seated with my back to the trunk of a tree, my wrists are bound behind me.

“ Oh good, you’re awake. As I was saying, that house is mine and has been in my family for generations. You have no right to keep me from what is mine.” Alice turns in circle to menacingly look each one of us in the eye. I see my father, mother and brother all in the same predicament as me.

She must have taken them one by one, I think to myself. What Alice lacks in stature and strength, she makes up for in storytelling. She is truly a master of manipulation, unrivaled by even the most two-faced politicians of our day.

Her words are not the most worrisome thing on my mind at the moment. I see that she’s casually holding a gun. Alice has a tendency to talk with her hands, and the gun is haphazardly pointing in every direction. I see each of my family members flinching as she wildly gesticulates.

“But I’d actually like to thank you all.” Alice spins as she says this. You have made this a lot easier than I thought it would be. Court battles can go on and on, but this is a much easier solution. All I had to do was get you morons out here in the mountains and the rest is history.

I think back to the gift card for camping gear that was left on our doorstep 3 weeks ago. A note accompanied the card, and said simply, “For all you do for the community.” We assumed this was a thank you for Mom and Dad’s work with the church and the food bank. I should have listened to my gut.

out of words!