Fall Frenzy Writing Contest

The Iron Ghost

“I’m so done with this!” Avery sat down. 

The hillside, full of sumac and golden currant, was a fiery orange that had glowed in the dusk sunlight on our way out. Now the fog had rolled in and we couldn’t see more than 10 feet in front of us. We’d been wandering around lost for hours.

A few feet away, Marco tripped over something – an old railroad tie. 

“Let’s follow these, they’re bound to hit a road at some point,” he said to the group. Everyone nodded, exhausted and spooked by the sudden change in weather. 

We rounded a corner and saw that the tracks led into an abandoned tunnel. Avery and I walked, arms linked, behind the boys. We entered the tunnel slowly, and immediately I wanted to bolt back to the relative light of the forest behind us. 

“Something feels off,” I said under my breath. 

A high pitch squeal pierced the air, then silence. The boys hadn’t stopped walking but their footsteps were gone. 

It was at that moment I remembered the story my grandpa used to tell us, the last whistle of the Iron Ghost. And tonight was a new moon…