Footsteps in the Snow

I hurried from the bridge as fast as I could without looking like I was running away. I should have been smarter about this, but I was so caught up trying to get it done. I found the map about two weeks ago and it took some time to figure out where it led. I called an old Boy Scout friend of mine who was pretty good at orienteering and we went over the map at his house. We figured that what this is directing us to was somewhere in the woods next to the wooden footbridge we used to jump off in the summer. I thanked him and told him I’d go it alone from there.

Somehow, I managed to head out in the coldest damn day of the year. I trudged through the snow, following the markers my friend and I marked on the map. I found what we believed was the spot and started digging through the snow. It was over three fet deep at that point since we had steady snowfall for the past week. Around the two foot mark, my fingers brushed against something solid. I began to sweep away the snow with the side of my hand until I found what was underneath. Once I uncovered some of it I froze in stark terror. With a shaking hand I looked over the map again, unsure of what to do. I crumpled it up and stuffed it next to my macabre discovery and left.