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The black military SUV completed a nearly impossible U-turn on the narrow mountain road, its heavy wheels grinding over the wet gravel with an ear-piercing screech.
The two crimson taillights were soon completely swallowed by the churning thick fog.
The world fell silent, leaving only the whimpering of the wind through the pine forest and the cold moisture.
Parked by the roadside was a weather-beaten police car.
The blue and white paint on the car's body had long since faded, revealing the grey primer and mottled rust underneath in several places.
A corner of the bumper was noticeably dented, as if it had once had an intimate encounter with something, and there was a spiderweb-like crack in the bottom right corner of the windshield.
The car looked like a veteran about to retire but forced to work overtime, exuding a sense of exhaustion and powerlessness from every part of its frame.
Two local police officers sat inside, boredly puffing away on cigarettes.
After their identities were confirmed, Noah and Leon sat in the back seat of the police car.
The sound of the car door closing was like a rusty iron coffin lid being shut.
The space inside was cramped, the air a mixture of the pungency of cheap tobacco, the sour rot of sweat, and the smell of an air freshener that only served to highlight what it was trying to hide.
The car radio was playing lively and passionate Flamenco music; the spirited guitar strumming and loud singing formed an absurd and eerie contrast with the gloomy, oppressive scenery outside the window.
The police car restarted, the engine giving a reluctant cough before slowly crawling deeper into the mountains.
The fog in the mountains grew heavier, a vast expanse of white with visibility less than ten meters.
The headlights feebly illuminated the thick, inseparable Chaos; where the beams reached, the ancient trees by the roadside, wet with fog, appeared twisted with splayed branches, like hideous claws reaching out from Hell, trying to grab something.
"I can't believe my vacation is ruined just like this."
In the driver's seat, the older police officer finally broke the silence.
His name was Manuel, and his face, carved with deep lines by wind, frost, and alcohol, was written with displeasure.
He sized up the two uninvited guests in the back seat through the rearview mirror, his tone carrying undisguised complaint.
"Coming all the way from America, it must have been hard on you, gentlemen."
In the passenger seat, the young police officer Ricardo also turned around. He had slicked-back hair, wore glasses, and had a playful smile at the corner of his mouth.
"But just what kind of big shots are you that the Chief would personally call and drag us out of a bar to be your drivers?"
Leon remained expressionless as he took a photo from his jacket and handed it over.
"We're looking for someone."
Ricardo took the photo and glanced at it by the dim light of the dashboard.
In the photo was a young girl with brilliant blonde hair, smiling brightly at the camera.
That smile was full of youthful vitality and innocent purity.
"Wow, what a pretty girl."
Ricardo whistled and handed the photo to Manuel.
Manuel glanced at it and muttered, "For you to come looking for her with such a grand display, she must not be the daughter of an ordinary family."
He returned the photo to Leon, his tone still lazy.
"But then again, just the two of you?"
Ricardo's eyes swept back and forth between Noah and Leon, filled with suspicion and contempt.
"These mountains aren't the kind of national park you're imagining."
Noah had been silently looking out the window; hearing this, he slowly turned his head.
"What else?"
"Are the four of us supposed to sing, dance, and RAP together in these deep mountains and old forests?"
The smile on Ricardo's face froze.
Manuel also cast a surprised glance through the rearview mirror.
He clearly didn't understand that English word, but he understood the blunt mockery in the sentence.
The atmosphere in the car stagnated for a moment.
A few seconds later, Manuel suddenly burst out laughing, his laughter as hoarse as a worn-out bellows.
"Ha! Interesting kid!"
He didn't seem to mind Noah's rudeness; instead, it was as if he had found some amusement.
"Alright, since you're so confident, I'll tell you a secret for free."
His laughter subsided, and his tone became somewhat mysterious.
"The terrain in these mountains is very complex; there are many places even local hunters won't easily enter. In the past few months, quite a few hikers have gone missing here—no sign of them alive, no bodies found."
Leon's eyes suddenly sharpened.
"In other words, you're already used to people going missing?"
Manuel and Ricardo glanced at each other.
They didn't answer, only simultaneously wearing meaningful smiles before turning their heads back, as if the previous topic was just a boring joke.
Silence fell over the car once more, with only the Flamenco music still tirelessly howling.
Without realizing it, the sky had turned completely dark.
The headlights became the only source of light in this boundless darkness, illuminating the road ahead in a deathly pale white and making the flickering shadows of the trees around them seem even more eerie and terrifying.
Suddenly, the screech of brakes rang out.
The police car stopped by the side of the road.
"Damn, I can't hold it anymore."
Manuel cursed as he unbuckled his seatbelt.
"I'm going down to take a leak."
"What's wrong, Manny?"
Ricardo teased, "Is your prostate as old as this car?"
"Screw you, Ricardo!"
Manuel snapped back, pushed open the car door, and his figure quickly disappeared into the dark woods by the roadside.
"Hahahaha!"
Ricardo laughed triumphantly. "It's fine, old man, take your time. Prostatitis patients are the reason God gave us to wait patiently."
He pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lit one for himself, and then extended the pack toward the back seat.
"Want one, American friends?"
Leon and Noah both waved their hands in refusal.
Ricardo shrugged indifferently and started smoking on his own.
Noah took a pack of chewing gum from the side pocket of his tactical backpack, tore open the wrapper, handed a piece to Leon, and then conveniently handed the remaining half-pack to Ricardo in the front.
Ricardo was stunned for a moment, looking at the exquisitely packaged gum and then at Noah's calm face before hesitantly taking it.
"Thanks."
He stubbed out his cigarette in the car's ashtray, tore off a piece of gum, put it in his mouth, and began chewing vigorously.
Before long, a series of hurried footsteps and the snapping of stepped-on branches came from the woods.
The car door was suddenly flung open, and Manuel scrambled back inside, slamming the door shut with a loud bang.
His face was deathly pale, his breathing ragged, and his forehead was covered in cold sweat.
"Shit! It's so damn cold!"
He panted, his eyes staring in terror at the bottomless darkness outside the car.
"I... I just felt like someone was watching me."
"Haha, what's wrong, Manny?"
Ricardo was amused again. He spat out his gum and said with exaggeration, "Is that girl Isabella from the bar so in love with you that she followed you all the way into these deep mountains and old forests?"
"Oh, that was indeed a wonderful night." Manuel seemed stimulated by the topic; he straightened his back, forcing a trace of manly pride onto his face.
But his slightly trembling voice betrayed the fear in his heart.
He stopped talking and tremblingly turned the key.
The police car groaned in pain again, then lunged forward like a stray dog that had been kicked in the rear.
The speed was much faster than before.
Manuel gripped the steering wheel tightly, his eyes unblinking as he stared at the small white area illuminated by the headlights, as if some man-eating monster would leap out from the darkness beyond that area at any moment.
The police car bumped along the dark, rugged mountain road.
At some point, the Flamenco on the radio had been replaced by a mournful and melodious folk song; the weeping-like singing sounded exceptionally creepy in this dead-silent night.
No one spoke in the car anymore.
The four men, encased in this cramped and swaying iron box, drove into the thick fog...
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