Page 310 of Chaos has a Name
It was rare that his gut was wrong.
This time, he hoped it was.
There wasn’t a lot of cover for them in case this went to hell in a handbasket, and they couldn’t outrun two Natives in the woods who spent all of their time here.
Callen was scanning the terrain not only for traps, but for Natives.
In this case, it was better safe than sorry.
“Ditto,” he admitted.
The words were no sooner out of his mouth when they both heard it.
Oh, and it sent chills through their bodies.
It was a whistle.
And it was coming from…somewhere.
At first, everyone froze in place, and safeties were clicked off in anticipation of the bad shit heading their way.
When nothing happened at first, Gene was to the point.
“We need to move quicker,” Gene said, as both he and Callen picked up the pace to get them to the clearing where they found the original remains.
As they hustled, the whistle continued, but it was not in one location.
It surrounded them.
“It’s coming from a couple of places,” Gene whispered, his finger on the trigger as he pointed it at the ground while they walked.
Callen was in the same defensive position, ready to shoot in any direction an arrow came from and at them.
“It sounds like it’s in front of us, and then behind us.” he said.
One of the other agents got their attention.
Agent Brooks Noto kept his voice low, and since Callen and Gene were right next to him, they heard him.
“I don’t like this. We’re being watched. The hair on my arms is standing up.”
Oh, they knew.
That’s the weirdest whistle they had heard in their lives. It didn’t sound like a person making the sound. It was…hollow-sounding.
That’s when Gene got it.
“CJ, it’s a bone,” he whispered, praying it stayed light enough for them to get back to the camping clearing, and get the fuck out of there.
He wasn’t going to be happy until they were at the cabin, safely tucked inside.
Callen listened to it.
“There was that carved bone in the pit,” he said. “Maybe they do this all of the time with the remains. It’s sick that they eat them, desecrate their bodies, and now are making whistles out of them.”
On that, Gene agreed.
“The Hollow,” he whispered. “It’s what the bone sounds like. It sounds hollow.”
