I’m going to tell you a story

It’s going to involve a pile of bodies

And the lengths two women will go to overcome their differences

Oh and maybe a hint of second sight

Welcome to the Aurora Wasteland

It doesn’t matter if you know or care about the Aurora Wasteland, you don’t get a pass for ignorance. If the Aurora Wasteland wants you, it gets you. Conscription is mandatory once you’re selected.

This is the story of two women. One was forced into the Aurora Wasteland. The other opted to explore it out of her own free will.

Free will is a funny concept. What we often perceive as a choice is just continuing on a path of least resistance. We make very few actual choices throughout our day. People do what they do because they have to. They get up and go to work because they have to, they buy a vehicle to get to work because they have to. They live in a house or apartment and get a mortgage because they have to. They follow a path created for them by society. Free will is mostly an illusion. To get off the path, you have to make a decisive choice to do so. Most people are happy to go along day to day, never changing, just playing out the clock. Others, on the other hand, find themselves inadvertently leaving the track, and even fewer, seek to leave the path behind forever. Free will is an illusion, not magic. Once you know the trick, you can’t unsee it.

Doloris was 90 years old. Her husband died 20 years ago. Not a day goes by that she doesn’t wish that she could join him. Follow him to the afterlife. And like most Christians, she does believe in an afterlife, one that doesn’t grant you entry if you kill yourself to get there. So Doloris is following the path and playing out the clock.

The day Doloris was bumped from her path started like most. An early morning pee, an early morning tea, and then walk around the local woods with her friends. Every morning one of her friends picks her up, along with three other women, then the group of them drives to the woods and briskly walks the same hiking trail they walk every day.

The conversations quickly started to repeat themselves day after day. The other women talked about their grandkids, which Doloris didn’t have, their children, which Doloris didn’t have, and their husbands, which Doloris didn’t have any more. In all honesty, over the years, Doloris had grown to dislike all of the women she hiked with. But she continued her daily walks with them because she didn’t want to disrupt her path. It was easier to just keep going. The urge to stick to her path was strong.

Connections happen regardless of if you want them to. Doloris’ connection to the other women had faded over the years. Her connections to most people and things had faded over the years. Sometimes connections can be long lasting and more painful than people care to admit. Some connections are requested, even required. Others are unintentional or unwanted. The latter tended to be the case for Doloris.

Chickakoo Lake Recreation Area is a scenic mix of woods and lakes that attracts a diversity of birds and other wildlife such as moose, dear, beavers, and more, much more. The 480 acres of woodland and over 14 km of trails are a popular destination for cyclists, horseback riders, and hikers.

In the late 1960s, the area was a dumping ground for bodies. More than three dozen bodies were discovered; all murdered, all in different ways, all found decades later. At the point of discovery, the woods were practically wiped out.

Since then, the woods have retaken the area but, without a doubt, there are more bodies that remain hidden, buried below the feet of hikers. Below Doloris’ feet.

Every day, Doloris and her friends walk the same path around the Chickakoo area. Everyday Doloris wished she stayed home. The day Doloris was bumped off her path was like no other in this regard.

As the group made their last turn back towards the parking lot and thankfully the end of the hike. Doloris noticed something. The normal murky pond water that was filled with frogs and fish was dark red. Almost black. She opened her mouth to speak, but one of the other women was droning on about how much she hated her grandkids at a rate that provided no interruptions to speak.

So Doloris kept the findings to herself, and to her surprise, none of the other women said anything. They babbled on about the same crap as always. It was strange. They walked this path daily, why didn’t they say anything. They were quick to judge women jogging past them in any clothing that was form fitting, but this dark red lake went on next to them without comment.

As the walk continued, the lake opened up wider, revealing the largest of it’s inlets. The red water darkened. The other women still said nothing. Doloris stopped to tie her shoe, the group of women continued on without her. As Doloris finished her double knot, she looked up and scanned the lake. There, on the other side, was something that would haunt her for the rest of her days.

A tower of bodies intertwined into one mass. Blood streamed from them down into the lake.

Doloris covered her mouth. She didn’t watch anything scary on tv. It was Who Wants to be a Millionaire or nothing. Her poor brain wasn’t trained to handle what she was looking at. So she stared at it, as well as her old eyes would let her. Tears formed in her eyes. Sadness rushed through her. She didn’t really know what she was looking at. Where are the bodies connected? Were they just parts or whole torsos? Were they alive? God, what if they were alive?

She covered her mouth and ran after her group, where with a panicked look of fear plastered across her face, she told them what she’d witnessed.

Horrified, the women returned back with her. They all said nothing as they looked out at the lake, until finally one of the women asked where Doloris had seen the tower of bodies. Confused, Doloris pointed in the direction. The woman admitted that she saw nothing but the green lake water. The other women quickly admitted the same thing.

The chatter abruptly returned to normal. Only the topic was how Doloris was losing her faculties, how she hadn’t been herself since her husband had died. Confused and frustrated, Doloris followed behind the group back to the vehicle. Never able to take her eyes off the bodies until they disappeared behind the tree line.

The rest of the day was a haze. Doloris returned to her normal path, except something just felt off. She couldn’t shake what she’d seen. But the more she thought about it, the more she was certain that what she had seen, couldn’t have been real. It had to have been all in her mind because what she saw was horrific, and if that was real, she couldn’t stand the thought. That above all else, if that was real, it meant other horrors could exist as well.

The Aurora Wasteland was pulling her in, whether she wanted in or not. The choice was taken from her.

The next day she broke her routine and went to see her doctor. She told him what she saw, what she witnessed. He listened and took notes. At the end of the appointment, he booked her a follow up with a neurologist, the wait time to get an appointment was months away. He also gave her something else. Something she hadn’t expected.

A business card, she turned it over and over in her hand. It’s weight felt comforting. Though she was unsure of what she was reading, what he’d given her. The card had the words Aurora Wasteland printed on it, along with a phone number, an email address, and a website. The back of the card simply said, “for the unknown.” The three words stuck with Doloris. They repeated over and over in her mind. “For the unknown.”

Had the doctor believed her? Or was he just covering all his bases? Or maybe he was just worried the long wait would piss Doloris off, and that this card would distract her. Either way, it didn’t matter. Doloris left with the card tucked in her purse, and the three words burned into her mind.

They floated there for the rest of the day, though the card stayed in her purse. What could this Aurora Wasteland really do for her? Was it a help group? Maybe it was filled with nut jobs that thought the world was flat. It couldn’t possibly be worth her time.

Like the words, these thoughts repeated themselves over and over in her brain. It was hard to think of anything else. But as night fell, and Doloris returned to her routine, she poured herself a glass of warm milk and put Who Wants to be a Millionaire on the TV.

The familiar comfort of the TV show allowed Doloris to drift off in her chair. And as someone reluctantly phoned a friend for help, Doloris dreamed. Normally her nights were filled with light and frequently woken sleep. But tonight was different. Doloris sank deep into her chair and deeper into her sleep. She slept deep enough to dream, something she hadn’t done in decades.

She dreamed of her husband, she dreamt of him out in the tower of bodies. Part of it. Intertwined in it. His blood mixing with the lake. She did everything to try and reach him, to help him. But obstacle after obstacle kept her away.

As the sun rose the next morning, Doloris woke in the chair, sweating. Panicked. She knew there was no way for her husband to be out there in the lake, but why had she dreamt of him? And why in the horror of the lake like that? It wasn’t fair. She didn’t deserve to see him like that.

She had to do something. She had to go back. To help them. But the how was lost on her, that is until she remembered the card in her purse. The Aurora Wasteland card, with those three words. “For the unknown.” This felt pretty unknown, so she called them.