The Boy Scout troop entered the forest under a clear sky, the setting sun casting long shadows through the trees. It was supposed to be a warm summer night, perfect for camping in the Oregon wilderness. The troop, led by their scoutmaster, Mr. Harris, had been planning this trip for weeks. Twelve boys, all around fourteen or fifteen, eager for adventure. They pitched their tents near a gentle river, its waters sparkling in the fading daylight. Everything seemed right, like it was going to be the perfect weekend.
But Oregon’s forests had a way of hiding secrets, even from those who thought they knew them well.
