Chapter 9 – Welcome to Kruger Town
Morning came softly, almost lazily, spilling through the curtains in a golden haze that touched everything it met. Dust motes floated lazily in the sunbeams, making the air feel alive and delicate at the same time. Laughter began to fill the room, bright and warm, cutting through the remnants of last night's chaos. Backpacks lay open on the floor like defeated soldiers, clothes half-folded in haphazard piles, shoes kicked aside as if they had lost all purpose in the excitement. Sam wrestled with his bag, zipper snagging repeatedly on a stray strap, while Marty sat on it, bouncing slightly, laughing until his stomach hurt.
"Bro, if this bag explodes, I'm blaming you," Sam said, tugging the zipper for the fifth time, his face red from effort.
Hana moved gracefully around the room, tying her hair up with practiced ease, strands escaping to frame her face. She smiled at Sam, a teasing glint in her eyes. "You packed like you're moving there forever," she said, brushing a few stray threads from her forehead.
Laura held up her phone, framing the group with precision. "Group photo before we leave. Come on," she called, the camera ready to immortalize the moment in a single click.
They gathered together, arms over shoulders, sleepy faces mixed with wide smiles, hair slightly mussed, eyes still holding remnants of dreams. The camera clicked, a bright flash reflecting off the polished surfaces of the room, capturing energy, youth, and a fleeting sense of invincibility.
This was it. Their last big trip together before life pulled them apart in all directions, scattering them like leaves in the wind.
Outside, their car waited patiently, hood dusted with frost, engine idling quietly in anticipation. Music blasted as they hurled their bags into the trunk with reckless energy. Michelle passed around snacks—chips rustling, chocolate wrappers crinkling, energy drinks popping open with satisfying fizz—while Luna adjusted the playlist, fingers flying over the phone screen with practiced ease.
"Mountains, snow, freedom," Luna said, leaning against the car, eyes bright with anticipation. "No deadlines. No stress."
"Just vibes," Marty added, tossing a bag into the backseat and catching a candy bar mid-air.
They climbed into the car, laughter bouncing between the seats like ping-pong balls. The engine hummed low, a promise of adventure as the city slowly disappeared behind them. Excitement filled the air, thick and intoxicating. Windows were rolled down slightly, letting the cold air rush in, tousling hair and stealing warmth in equal measure. Music thumped through the speakers loud enough to drown out thought, carrying them forward, further from responsibilities, deeper into the unknown.
The road stretched ahead, smooth at first, then winding, curving around hills and low ridges.
---
Hours passed.
The scenery changed gradually, almost imperceptibly at first. Buildings gave way to trees, towering and solemn, their branches reaching skyward like ancient fingers. Highways narrowed into long, twisting roads lined with snow-laden hedges. The first hints of snow appeared at the edges, delicate at first, thin crystals catching the fading light. Slowly, it thickened, dusting rooftops and curbs, turning the world into a muted, white canvas. Phone signals dwindled from full bars to two… then one, fading into nothing.
"Anyone else losing signal?" Michelle asked, her voice hesitant, breaking the monotony of the tires crunching over frosted asphalt.
Sam checked his phone, scrolling through the frozen maps. "Yeah. It's fine. We downloaded the map," he said, trying to sound confident, even as the unease began to creep in.
The sky dimmed faster than expected, clouds thickening, curling around mountain peaks that rose like silent sentinels on both sides of the road, their summits hidden in ghostly wisps of fog and mist. Shadows crept along the curves, turning trees into looming figures, street signs into ominous markers.
They stopped at a small roadside diner, its exterior painted in faded reds and blues, neon lights flickering weakly, struggling against the encroaching darkness. Inside, the air felt heavy, weighted with silence that pressed against them as they stepped over the threshold. A few locals sat quietly, eyes lifting with interest when the group entered. Laughter softened, conversations dipped into whispers. The woman behind the counter watched a little too long, her gaze sharp, unblinking, carrying a subtle edge of warning.
"Six burgers and fries," Marty said, trying to keep the air light, words bouncing off the walls that smelled faintly of fried oil, old carpet, and the lingering scent of coffee left too long on the burner.
The woman hesitated, her hand hovering over the order pad. "You're heading north?"
"Kruger Town," Sam replied casually, trying to meet her eyes without letting his own worry slip.
The diner went quiet, the kind of quiet that makes your skin crawl, where even the clinking of utensils feels loud, invasive.
The woman's face tightened. "You should leave before dark," she said flatly, voice devoid of humor, a warning dropped like a stone into still water.
Laura laughed awkwardly, forcing lightness into her voice. "Is this some local joke?"
"No," the woman said, tone clipped, leaving no room for argument. "It's not."
They ate quickly after that, silence hovering like smoke around them. Conversations dried up, replaced by the occasional shuffle of feet and the muted scrape of cutlery against plates. When they stood to leave, an old man near the door spoke without looking up, voice low, like a warning carried on the wind.
"After six, the mountain doesn't belong to you anymore," he said, the words soft yet heavy with meaning, lingering like a shadow.
Marty forced a laugh, masking the chill crawling up his spine. "Thanks for the warning."
No one laughed back.
---
The road into Kruger Town felt… different.
The trees grew closer together, branches stretching over the road like twisted arms, forming a tunnel that swallowed headlights, turning the world into a maze of black and white. Snow fell heavier now, clinging to the windshield in patterns that distorted the view, making even familiar turns seem alien. The faint glow of the car clock glowed in contrast to the darkness, time ticking onward with deliberate inevitability.
6:27 PM
"Weren't we supposed to reach earlier?" Hana asked, frowning at the shadows stretching along the roadside, her voice barely louder than the hum of the tires over frost.
"We're fine," Sam replied, though tension laced his words. "Just a few minutes late."
The first sign appeared ahead, half-buried in snow, its edges jagged with rust, the paint flaking. Bold letters read:
WELCOME TO KRUGER TOWN
Scratch marks ran across the metal, deep and uneven, like something had clawed at it repeatedly. Luna shivered, a quiet movement, her hands brushing along her arms instinctively.
"This town looks… dead," she said, voice hesitant, eyes scanning darkened windows and shuttered doors.
They drove in.
Shops were closing fast, lights flicking off as they passed, the soft click of switches almost sinister in the growing quiet. Curtains twitched, faces peered briefly, then vanished. The streets were empty in a way that felt intentional, like the town was holding its breath, waiting for something unseen.
Their phones buzzed at the same time—signal bars dropped to zero.
"No service," Michelle muttered, her voice catching slightly in the cold air seeping through the cracked windows.
Then they saw him.
Their tourist guide stood near his vehicle, bags already loaded, engine running quietly, his posture rigid, eyes darting toward the horizon. He looked tense, checking his watch repeatedly, each glance sharp, impatient, almost nervous.
Sam pulled over and stepped out. "Hey! We made it."
The guide's face fell, expression tightening instantly. "You're late," he said, voice short, clipped.
"Only thirty minutes," Marty said, trying to maintain levity. "Come on, you're staying with us, right?"
The guide shook his head immediately, shoulders stiffening. "No. I don't stay after six."
Hana frowned. "But you're our guide."
"I did my job," he replied sharply, tone final. "I got you here. That's it."
Laura tried to soften things, offering a smile. "At least help us get settled?"
The guide hesitated, thumb hovering over his phone, then pulled it out, tapping quickly. "I sent you the map. Check your DMs."
Sam's phone vibrated briefly before going silent again. The map loaded halfway, frozen, the lines faint against a blank screen.
"You already have the keys," the guide continued. "Follow the route exactly. Don't take shortcuts."
"Why are you so scared?" Marty asked, curiosity tinged with irritation.
The guide met his eyes, jaw tight, expression unreadable. "Because I know better."
He got into his car.
"Wait," Luna said, voice almost pleading. "What about tomorrow?"
The guide started the engine, red tail-lights glowing like warning beacons. "Tomorrow is your problem."
His car rolled forward, turning into the swirling snow, lights fading into the dimming horizon. Within seconds, it disappeared, leaving them alone in the growing cold.
Silence followed, heavy and biting.
"Well," Sam said finally, forcing a grin, trying to keep spirits up. "That was dramatic."
They got back into the car, the engine starting with a hum that felt too small against the vast emptiness of the town.
---
The map led them deeper into Kruger Town.
Roads narrowed further, snow muffling every sound, the world outside growing quieter with each turn. Streetlights flickered intermittently, throwing sudden, erratic shadows that twisted across old, dark houses. The windows of the houses were black voids, hollow eyes staring at them as they passed.
"Does anyone else feel like we shouldn't be here?" Michelle asked quietly, voice trembling slightly, eyes scanning the darkness outside.
Marty scoffed, a faint laugh breaking through. "You've been watching too many horror movies," he said, though his tone didn't fully hide a flicker of unease.
As they turned a corner, another sign appeared.
NO ENTRY AFTER 6 PM
The sign was bent, half-buried in snow, leaning like a tired sentinel.
They drove past it anyway, hearts thudding slightly faster.
Far above the town, hidden among the trees, something watched, silent and still, a presence waiting.