Stalk the Lantern

Brett and Ntendeni cut imposing figures against the wall in the dining room of  the sparsely furnished Karoo farmhouse. A battered old unlit lantern stood at the head of the table in front of them. They were both dressed in black. Their clipboards, hiking boots and upright, feet-apart stances reminded the group of teenage boys seated around the table who was in charge. The rules at Unplugged Adventure were simple: No phones, no swearing, no fighting and no whining. This was the end of day three and screen-based dopamine withdrawal was in full swing. They had just finished a potjie kos meal that they had all had a hand in making on a fire made from wood they’d chopped themselves. 

Ntendeni, the taller of the two, cleared his throat and the hum of conversation among the boys died down. His skin was almost as black as his clothes and his pronounced ears looked to some of the boys like bat wings. They’d be comical if the rest of him weren’t so frightening. 

“Right guys,” his sonorous voice filled the room. “You’ve done the hike, the solitude, the orienteering. We’ve done trust-falls and the obstacle puzzle. You’ve all done very well so far. But that was during the day and we were  cooperating. Now it’s dark and we’re going to be competing…”

“Sorry, Ntendeni, before we start, I feel we should just warn the boys about Mr. Klaasens,” Brett interjected. Ntendeni’s teeth flashed as he drew air between them. He gestured for Brett to continue. There was a murmur among the boys. He held up his hand in a placatory manner. “You probably won’t see him. I should just warn you about him in case you do,” he said.

“So who is he?” one of the boys asked. 

“You mean who was he,” Ntendeni corrected.

“A ghost?! We’ve been hearing weird noises during the night. You could’ve told us earlier!”

“This sounds a little bit like whining,” Brett said to Ntendeni, loud enough for the boys to hear.

“A ghost though! We’ve spent two nights in this creaky, echoey house, sleeping under these ugly grey blankets and all along there was a ghost you didn’t tell us about?!”

“And you think that would have helped? We’re on a busy schedule and you guys need your rest,” Brett replied. “Besides, the house itself isn’t actually haunted. All old houses make weird noises. Mr. Klaasens is only ever seen outside. He died before the house was built, so more than a hundred and fifty years ago. He was the surveyor on the construction of the road to Ladismith. One night his horse got spooked and bolted. He left the camp to look for it and never returned. It’s said that his spirit is still wandering the renosterveld looking for it.”

The hollow tocking of the grandfather clock was the only sound in the room for a few moments until Brett shifted his weight and said “Sorry Ntendendeni, I interrupted you.”

Ntendeni nodded and continued. “We’re going to be outside tonight. We’re playing Stalk the Lantern. Anyone here played it before?” The boys looked at each other, shrugging and shaking their heads. Satisfied that this was a first for all of them, he said “Okay what’s going to happen is first Brett will take this lantern to the top of the valley on the far side of the farm. We hiked up there yesterday so you should have no problem knowing where to go. The game is very simple. Get as close as you can to the lantern without being seen by Brett or myself. If one of us gets you in our torch beams and identifies you, you’re out. You can either join us looking for others or you can go back to the farmhouse. You’re allowed to approach the lantern from any direction but you can’t leave the boundaries of the farm, so that means no climbing over any fences. If you hurt yourself, turn on your torch to attract our attention. Otherwise it’s in your best interests to leave torches off.” The boys exchanged glances, some of excitement, some of trepidation. One of them raised his hand. “What do we get if we win?”

“The knowledge that you’ve got the best tactical recon skills of the group,” Brett replied, then added, “and you don’t have to do the dishes. Anyways, I’m off to place the lantern. Everyone must stay in this room for the next ten minutes.” Brett left, swinging the old lantern at his side. As his footsteps faded down the corridor and out into the night, another boy raised his hand. 

“Can we opt out?”

More glances. It was Bruno, the only boy from Maple College. 

“And do what?” Ntendeni responded, his ears appearing to fold back against the side of his head. “Sit here by yourself staring at the wall?”

“Maybe he wants to have a wank,” suggested Vaughan, the muscular boy from St. Dominics, to laughter from the others. “If he’s out, then it’s Forest Hill versus St. Dominics,” said Morgan, the stocky kid from Forest Hill. Morgan’s schoolmate Clyde added “Nah, that’s unfair to St. Dominics bro. It’s stalk the lantern, not lurk the lantern!” 

“You calling us lurkers?!” Vaughan shot at him.

“Guys! Guys!” Ntendeni held up his hand. “I see our previous activities have all helped you develop a wonderful sense of rapport. But this is supposed to be a fun adventure game, not some inter-schools match.” He turned to Bruno. “And I don’t get why you don’t want to play.”

Bruno shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s a good thing if it’s just St. Dominics vs Forest Hill.”

“Yeah. Maple College is for pussies!” Morgan stated. 

Ntendeni’s head swivelled to face him. “Language!”

“Sorry sir. It’s true though.” Morgan scowled at Bruno, who sighed and rolled his eyes. 

“Guys,” Ntendeni addressed them, “Unplugged Adventure is supposed to be educational and keep you offline for a while. You’ve done orienteering to find your way around using a map and a compass; no phone. You’ve done the solitude session to prove to yourselves that you can sit quietly for an hour, again, without a phone. You’ve done things that have helped you experience trust, cooperation and problem solving. Now it’s time for a bit of fun. Stalk the lantern is just a game. A strategy game with only one winner, sure, and maybe a little more dangerous than the other stuff, but that’s part of why it's fun. It’s not a team sport.” He looked at Bruno. “You’ll be missing out if you don’t play. And if you’ve smuggled a phone in here and want to use it while everyone is out, there’s no point because there isn’t even any reception out here.”

“I don’t even own a phone,” Bruno replied, raising a few eyebrows around the room. 

“So you’re just going to sit here?”

“I can read,” he answered, gesturing at the dusty bookshelf packed with old volumes with torn dust jackets. “Well there are no rules about opting out of activities. Your loss though.”

Bruno shrugged again and shifted his attention to the St. Dominic's boys. One of them had found a map of the farm from the orienteering and Vaughan had gathered the rest of them into a conspiratorial huddle. Ntendeni peered over to see what they were doing. 

“I just told you this isn't going to be an inter-schools competition!”

“It is now!” Vaughan replied. “If more St. Dominics boys get close to the lantern, we win! We’ll see who the real lurkers are,” he said, narrowing his eyes at Clyde across the room. 

A short while later, Brett’s voice crackled over Ntendeni’s radio. The lantern was in place. Ntendeni flipped an hourglass on the mantleshelf. “I’m leaving now. This thing lasts five minutes. You may leave the house and start stalking once all the sand runs through. Good luck, but I’m probably going to catch you.” He turned and left.

As the sand trickled down though the waist of the glass, the boys from St. Dominics and Forest Hill sat in respective teams on either side of the room, and Bruno stood quietly inspecting the contents of the bookshelf. A stiff breeze outside caused a low moan around the sides of the sash windows and the old house creaked on its foundations. The murmurs from the segregated groups grew steadily hushed. Vaughan got up to look at the hourglass. The final grains tumbled onto the pile at the bottom.

“It’s time,” he said. As the other boys filed out of the room and down the corridor, he turned to Bruno. “You’re bloody crazy to stay here by yourself.” He thought he caught a flicker of a smile over his deadpan expression as he was turning away. What a freak, he thought to himself.  

The boys took different approaches as soon as they got outside. The Forest Hill students split into two groups while the ones from St. Dominics dispersed. Morgan, Clyde and two others set off after Vaughan, hanging far enough back to not arouse his suspicion. Vaughan moved fast across the landscape, using the meagre light from the first quarter moon to trace out the contours of the ground. Morgan’s group had trouble keeping up with him and after a whispered negotiation they split up. 

It wasn’t long before a cry of disappointment came from the other side of the valley as the other group of Forest Hill boys found themselves bathed in torchlight. Ntendeni had a marker and he wrote an italicised N, like a lightning bolt,  on the back of each boy’s hand. Vaughan took note of Ntendeni’s location and the probability that most, if not all of the boys he caught would now be directing their intention to hunting him and his St. Dominic’s schoolmates. For a few minutes, the swish of the night breeze through the renosterveld and the crunch of his own footsteps was all he could hear. He rounded a large boulder and spotted the lantern, a dim orange point of light  in the distance. He stopped. If the St. Dominic’s boys were all following the agreed strategy, they would be in a spread-out parabola making their way up the valley. Those on the edges would be further back, given the more difficult terrain, and those lower down nearer his location making better ground but at higher risk. Assuming Brett was guarding the lantern and Ntendeni and his Forest Hill victims hadn’t dispersed quickly, that left only the other four Forest Hill boys unaccounted for. He listened for any clues as to their whereabouts. There was only silence. 

A horrified shriek suddenly carried across the valley. He squinted towards where it had come from but it was several hundred meters away and there wasn’t enough light to see anything on that part of the farm. If someone had been hurt they would’ve turned their torch on by now, but the whole valley remained dark, save for the light coming from the farmhouse at the bottom of the valley and the speck of the lantern near the top. Whatever that was, it was too far away to be important to him and he carried on swiftly. 

But as he picked his way through the darkness, Vaughan started to get the feeling that there was someone, or something, following him.  He stopped again and listened. “Who is that?” he force-whispered towards where he sensed a presence, several meters behind him. There was no answer. Instead, a yell, pitching up into a scream, emanated from where he’d heard the first shriek. This time, a torchlight did flash on, but it was quickly extinguished again. The breeze carried the sounds of a brief, agitated conversation, then a series of crashes which resolved into the distinct sound of galloping hooves. 

Concerned, but remembering the task at hand and St. Dominic’s honour at stake, he set off again toward the lantern. It wasn’t long before he started to hear the sound of the galloping over the noises of his own movement through the veld. It was getting closer. He stopped again and strained his eyes. He couldn’t make out more than a large black shape, but whatever it was, it was rapidly approaching him. His pulse quickened. He took stock of his surroundings. He was on open ground now, away from any protective boulders. He was close to an erosion gulley though, and he made his way toward it. The galloping was getting loud now. He was starting to feel the vibrations of the hoof-strikes through the ground. He broke into a run as he realised that the animal was heading directly toward him. He could even hear the blasts of breath from its nostrils. He launched himself towards the gully, just as the presence he’d sensed behind him materialised into a figure, diving for the same small gap. Vaughan’s heavy frame slid down the side of the gully and hit the bottom, followed a moment later by the dark figure. Small rocks and earth rained down on both of them. The galloping suddenly stopped and Vaughan cast his eyes upwards to see the outstretched silhouette of the animal sailing over the gap, blotting out the stars. The ground shuddered as it landed on the other side and its hoofbeats faded off into the distance. The gully was wedge-shaped and the figure was practically on top of him. He writhed to free himself, kicking at it.

“Bro, stop! It’s me Morgan! The horse! The horse! It’s Mr. Klaasen’s horse!”

“Okay Okay, shut up! You’ll give us away! Get off me!” Vaughan struggled free and extracted himself from the gully. “We nearly got killed by a ghost horse and you just kicked me in the fuckin ribs!” Morgan complained as he lifted himself out too. 

“Shut up!” Vaughan strained to keep his voice down.

“That screaming though! That was one of your guys. They saw something bad! And then that thing came running from their direction!”

“Okay I don’t know about you but I still want to win this game and standing around chatting isn’t going to do either of us any good.”

“This shit is crazy!” 

“Get out of here!” Vaughan hissed through clenched teeth. A torch beam swung over their heads from the other side of the valley, nearly illuminating them and sending them scurrying back to the gully. “I’m carrying on up here,” Vaughan whispered to Morgan.

“Me too,” he replied. 

“The fuck you are. Get out!”

“No way! I’m not exposing myself out there. Not to the torches and not to that thing.”

Vaughan stared at the outline of his rival in the darkness and shook his head. It seemed he didn’t have much of a choice. Any further arguing would just draw attention to themselves. They’d made enough noise already. He turned and started picking his way up the gully. Morgan followed not far behind him. Every now and then torchlight would illuminate the edge. Suddenly Vaughan froze. Just around the bend ahead of them, another source of light illuminated the steep bank. “Shit! Turn around! Brett and Ntendeni are working together. They know we’re in here!” Morgan did as he was told and the two of them hurried back the way they’d come. 

The distant drumming of hoofbeats echoed off the cliffs at the lip of the valley. Someone else screamed. This time it was a lot closer. Vaughan was sure that whoever was searching outside the gully would be shining their torch in that direction so he took the opportunity to climb out and leopard-crawl to the nearest thicket. 

“The ghost! The ghost! The ghost!” It was Clyde and he was panicking. Torchlight quickly illuminated his horrified face. In the minute it took for Ntendeni to reach him, Vaughan darted up toward the lantern as quickly and as quietly as he could. For all the madness going on in the valley, the game was still on and for all he knew he was the closest to the prize. He was curious though. What had Clyde actually seen? He ducked behind a wedge-shaped boulder about the size of a small bus and clambered up the side to peer over the edge down into the valley. From this vantage point he could see Brett’s torchlight making its way down the gully and Ntendeni arriving at the distraught Clyde to mark his hand with his lightning N.

“Mr. Klaasens is really helping us out tonight!” Ntendeni laughed. “Where did you see him?”

“Right over there!” Clyde lifted a shaking finger to an open area nearby. Ntendeni shone his torch in that direction, revealing nothing but boulders and bushes. Vaughan ducked back behind the rock as shouting erupted from the gully. Brett had caught Morgan. Now was his chance. The lantern was only a few minutes away and the leaders were adequately distracted. The breeze carried back the noise of distant galloping. Stalk the Lantern is a cool game he thought to himself. It seems like I’m going to win it too. But this galloping thing and this ghost hysteria is just too weird. He shook his head as if it would get rid of the thought. Vaughan didn’t believe in ghosts and he knew enough about people to know that those who are prone to suggestibility often see things that aren’t there…

He froze. A figure was moving alongside him on the other side of the valley. It was the same colour as the boulders, so it seemed to disappear as it moved in front of them and then reappear as it passed in front of the bushes. This couldn’t be. Was this what the other guys had seen? It was about the size of a small man but it didn't have any features. It was just a shape. A thing. Half-gliding through the undergrowth. It seemed determined, like it was trying to get somewhere in a hurry. Mr. Klaasens. Looking for his horse.

But the sound of the galloping was coming from a different direction. If there were such a thing as ghosts and what he was seeing was Mr. Klaasens, surely he would be following the galloping? This figure was going in a different direction. In a hurry. Brett’s torchlight swooped suddenly up the valley and Vaughan hit the deck. It illuminated the spot exactly where the figure had been, but now there was nothing there. The light extinguished as quickly as it had appeared and Vaughan squinted into the darkness it had left. What looked like a boulder became the grey shape, rising up out of the undergrowth and continuing onwards. Where was it going?

Vaughan gasped out loud when he realised. He broke into a run. He was nearly at the lantern. He just had to get across the gully to get there. It was a little too wide to jump. He slid into it just as torch beams started to swing in his direction again. As his head reached ground level on the other side, he saw the figure reach the lantern, pick it up, clamber up the boulder it was next to and hold it aloft. The soft flame illuminated a face for a moment before the whole figure was suddenly bathed in torchlight. 

“No!” Vaughan screamed. It wasn’t Mr. Klaasens. It was Bruno, wrapped in one of the grey farmhouse blankets. “You said you weren’t playing!” he yelled at him. 

“No I didn’t!” Bruno gleefully yelled back, holding the lantern under his chin so it cast shadows across his eyes, ghost story style. “I might have given that impression, but that’s on you. I never said I wasn’t playing. Maple College wins!” He gave a shadowy smirk. 

They were soon joined by Brett and Ntendeni, laughing over the protestations of Morgan and Clyde behind them. The torchlight that Vaughan had managed to evade the whole game finally alighted on him. “I heard you guys got pretty close to that spooked kudu!” Brett said.

“It jumped right over us! But this! This is unacceptable!” Vaughan cried, gesticulating at Bruno standing triumphant atop the boulder. Ntendeni turned to him, his huge ears casting shadows across his face in Brett’s torchlight. “Oh, you thought he wasn’t playing?!” He chuckled. “He was playing before any of you even started!”