Something flickered out of the corner of my eye that caught my attention as I was walking by. I knew every nook and cranny of this hiking trail. Every rotting tree that had fallen off to the either side, every ridge, every path that wandered off into the woods, some of which I had cut myself. I knew where every cluster of tree was and what type of tree they were, every fissure in the rock face and even the small caves where an animal could sleep for the night. Having been hiking this trail for the past twenty years, this was something very unusual. It wasn’t a colorful bird like a cardinal darting from the branch of a tree or a squirrel leaping quickly across the forest floor. I had experienced that many times before on my hikes. No, this was a glint off to my left that happened in a split second. It came from just beyond the old rotting birch stump with the green moss growing on top of its once smooth, paper thin bark. It was strange because the chances of a ray of sun breaching through the green, dense summer leaves and flickering off an object as I walked past, was one in a million. Whatever the chances were, I made my way over in the direction of the old tree stump.
I could tell by the broken branches of the young saplings that someone or something had been this way quite recently, forming a small trail in the underbrush. The old birch stump was about fifty feet from of edge of the trail and just below a ridge of rock that rose up sharply about ten feet or so. From the base of the stump I cast my eyes along the ridge thinking the glint must have come from there but did not see anything which would reflect the sun in such a way. There must be something shiny like a shard of glass or a piece of metal lying on the ground close by. As I was making my way carefully through a thick patch of ferns, staring intently at the ground, my lungs choked up suddenly as I came across a body lying face down in the underbrush.
The body was splayed out on the ground with both arms outstretched above the head and the legs were lying straight out and flat with each foot propped up by the toes of the boots. On the left wrist was a watch with a silver plated wrist band. I realized that this must have been what the sun had reflected off of as I was walking by.
Based on the the build of the body, it wasn’t hard to tell that this was the body of a man. His skin was white and he looked to be between twenty to forty years of age but it was hard to tell for certain since I could not see his face. He was not clean shaven and had dark stubble running down the side of his face to the edge of his throat. He had reddish brown hair, not too short, enough to run a comb through and it was cut square at the back about half an inch above the top of the shirt collar. He had a black jean jacket on and was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans. His hiking boots were light brown and I could tell from one of the raised pant legs, that he was wearing a pair of white socks. How did he die, was the first question that came to mind and the second was, how long had he been lying here face down in the dried up leaves and pine needles.
I was completely perplexed on what to do next. Did I hike the two miles back to the car where there was a clear enough cell signal to call the police or did I roll the body over to see if I knew him and try to figure out how he died, whether I knew him or not. Tampering with a body at a potential crime scene though, no matter far out into the woods you may be, was still illegal and considered a crime but my curiosity was overwhelming me.
Sitting down with my back against the old tree stump, I pulled out my bottle of water from my back pack and took a few mouthfuls. My mind was racing with so many questions. How did he end up face down, two miles down a trail and fifty feet from it? Was he murdered and brought up here to become one of those missing persons you read about that never return? Here is an opportunity to experience a real murder mystery case like the books I enjoy reading so much. I could be like the detective at the scene of the crime cracking the case. Surely I know how to go about doing an investigation, how hard could it be. Just think of all the help it would provide the authorities when I called it in. I might even be rewarded for my efforts. Besides, what if I left and some wild animal came along and dragged the body off somewhere. The opportunity to do the right thing would be lost.
Looking at my watch, it was coming on noon. It’s a good forty five minute hike to get back to the car. After I make the call to the police, it will take them at least forty five minutes or maybe even closer to an hour to find me because I‘m off of the main road about a mile in, where the trail begins. By that time, it will be almost two o’clock and then add on the time it will take to hike back to the location of the body, it’s easily going to be closing in on three o’clock. This means that the best of the afternoons sunlight will be on its way out, so how good of an investigation are they going to be able to do under a canopy of leaves that are starting to cast shadows. Not to mention that it’s going to be an all night affair once the investigation starts. I’ll be giving them a good head start and saving them a lot of trouble. Screw it!
I picked up a large branch that was lying near the tree stump to push the body over onto its back. As soon as I rolled it over, a rush of anxiety ripped through my stomach and my heart leaped into my mouth. Indeed this man had been here a few days at least and I did not recognize him. The maggots and worms had already started eating out his eyeballs which were staring out cold and empty into the pale blue sky. He had a black t-shirt on with the word, Metallica, written across the top. His stomach had been sliced open and his guts had spilled out. They were also being consumed by every vile creature that slithers in the ground. The sight made my stomach heave and puke.
Taking a moment to collect myself, I wiped my mouth off with the sleeve of my jacket, took out my cell phone and started to take pictures of the body and the crime scene. The ground under the body was not wet in a pool blood which could only mean that it had been a few days that the body had been lying there, like I suspected. The weather had been quite hot the past week, with little rain, so the blood must have seeped into the ground and dried up. I didn’t want to touch the ground to examine it. Contaminating the crime scene with my fingerprints would be a bad move and not something any good detective would do who was worth his salt.
With my pictures taken and a short video documenting my findings, it was time to hike back to the car. As I turned to make my way back to the trail, I was immediately seized with fear, a cold sweat ran across my forehead and a chill ran down my spine. There he was standing about eight feet in front of me carrying a gas container in his hand. I knew that I was staring into the eyes of the cold blooded killer who had murdered this man, lying not more than two feet away from me. The killers face was harsh and his teeth were clenched as he snarled at me in disgust.
He had seen my car parked alongside the trail. I knew instinctively that he had already made plans on how he would deal with the person who owned that car, if they had discovered the body. I put my arms out it front of me and started to back up slowly as he dropped the gas container and pulled a hunting knife from the sheath under his jacket.