2. Road Trip

Jocelyn raises her hands - this is not what she had been hoping for.

"Like I said, sorry to barge in on you like this, Mister". She backs away a little, "I was just hoping I might be able to stay at least until it gets light again. I mean there could be anything out there, wolves, bears. Something worse even."

Jocelyn is leaving. She still hopes he might change his mind though.

"Oh no... We can't start searching for missing students with some of us disappearing too!" he says, standing up.

"Blaine! We need to find Jocelyn, she didn't spend the night in the house! Nobody wander off alone, let's stay in groups!"


He opens the back door facing the back yard.
"I'll look at the back. Trent, Ellis, wanna come with me?"

Marcus points at the two obvious outbuildings in the back of the house: the outhouse and the large barn.

"I think the barn. Let's search there, even if to exclude that Jocelyn's in there. Check the ground for footprints, too..."

He approaches the barn with Trent, observing the ground for tracks as he does so - and careful not to step on any.
Let's see... Jocelyn's footprints would be of a smaller size than the men's...

Once at the barn, he will call out, then push the door open to look inside.

"Come on mister," Jocelyn puts her hand on her hips now, taking on an entirely different posture, "Look at the state of me. It's night-time, my feet are all bloody from traipsing through the forest barefoot. I'm a girl and I'm hardly a threat to you. I'm not a werewolf with your wolfsbane or a vampire with your garlic. And though I'm a mess, I'm hardly Baba Yaga with your knotted rope!
I'm clearly a damsel in distress and you, mister, want to kick me back out into the night instead of offering me a seat or a bowl of water for my feet. Really?"

MARCUSThe morning sun floods the back yard with warm light. There are trails to and from the outhouse. It had been used by the students through the evening, and even this morning.

The collapsed barn lays broken at the end of the yard. The tall grass engulfing part of it. It's dark stained roof peaking out above the seed heads.

Marcus scans the field spreading out towards the maple forest. The sun catches the dew just right and it highlights a trail leading past the outhouse and into the trees. The footsteps in the soft mud are small, delicate, and unshod. It's highly likely that this is Jocelyn's footprints.

All the colour drains from Jocelyn's face. Typical of a man to go for the witch argument, she thinks.

But she's not going to argue the toss with the open end of a shotgun barrel. She backs away, ready to duck and bolt for it if she needs.

Marcus beckons the others, calling out to inform them. "I found her footprints! Over here! Call Blaine and the others, let's focus the search in this direction!"

He waits for them to regroup before going further into the woods where the tracks lead.

With the immediate danger gone, Jocelyn suddenly feels incredibly tired. She looks around to try and work out which way is home. Then she puts one foot in front of the other...

He waits for Trent and Ellis before starting their search.
"Stay within earshot!" he tells the other groups before advancing in the woods.

As he walks, he starts calling loudly, "Jocelyn! Jocelyn!!!"

MARCUS
Marcus, Trent and Ellis charge through the trees. The path that was clearly visible in the tall grass is much more difficult to follow along the forest floor.

Jocelyn's name can be heard echoing out among the trees as the teams spread out. The calls grow faint as the groups move apart.

Progress is slow. The trail breaks time and again, but Marcus manages to hold onto the vaguest of signs. A footprint here. A broken branch there. The possibility that they are no longer following Jocelyn's trail nags at him.

A hare bounds into a clearing to their left. It stops and tastes the air, ignorant of the scent.

Movement at the treeline behind it.

A large rat breaks from the undergrowth, downwind. It shuffles along slowly, moving closer. It's dark, greasy hindquarters shine in the dim light.

It rises to it's hind legs. Advances - upright. Stepping carefully, one foot in front of the other. Hunting.

It turns slightly, presenting it's profile.

Tentacles extend out from it's snout - tasting the air, thin and active. They writhe - reaching out, then pulling back.

The rat lifts something from it's side. The light catches it - a blade.

It continues forward. Unaware of the spectators.

"I most certainly am, Mister!" Jocelyn replies with her grimy hand shielding her forehead. "I'm looking for the MacLearan farm. Am I headed the right way?"

Marcus drops down low, trying to pull his companions to the ground too. He gestures to be quiet.

He feels his hair stand on end at the sight.
Rats don't walk upright... They definitely DON'T have tentacles, or use blades... What the heck is this thing? Is it dangerous?

Doubting his eyes, he whispers softly, "Do you see it too?"