July 18, 1999, Lake Wallenpaupack, PA

Pam Beesly had enough. 

It should have been the best summer of her life. For the first time, she went somewhere without her parents and Penny, and the volleyball camp was a place where she could be not just a goody-two-shoes Pammy or artsy-fartsy Pampkin, but someone else. Someone, who could prove that she was cool just by doing something she was good at. 

Turned out, it didn’t matter how good she played at all; since Pam was the youngest and the shortest, had frizzy hair, and had no idea who Buffy was or what Britney sang about, she always was the last to be picked up in a team. And no matter how smart she was — for every adult she became ‘Pammy’ the next moment after she said her name. 

Of course, she’d tried to fit in at first, she’d started conversations, made comments when it had been to the point, and swallowed silently any mockery that followed. She’d given up after a girl she’d believed to be her future best camp friend had started a rumor that Pam had had lice. She kept a meek smile at days, but at nights she pressed the pillow to her face to stifle her sobbing; if someone found out that she was crying, things definitely would be worse for her. Pam wasn’t vain and didn’t think that the world turned around her, her needs and problems, but she felt as everyone in the camp was whispering behind her back, commenting on her every misstep, even the slightest one. 

After the first week, she realized that she couldn’t do that anymore, couldn’t pretend that everything was fine, and counted the days before her parents would take her home. Pam had called them once and begged to take her home, but they had simply brushed her off and told her to seek a silver lining even in harsh experience; it was a sign that she could depend only on herself. 

The plan she’d elaborated was simple and effective — to go home on her own. She had a few dollars, and she knew where the bus stop was; she’d prefer to be grounded for the rest of the summer rather than staying here even for a day longer. So, when everyone went dancing, she sneaked from the dance hall and returned to her cabin, where her backpack waited for her. Pam left most of the things, taking only money, a can of soda and a sandwich (in case she’d be hungry), and a stolen flashlight. After all, Pam thought as she squeezed through planks of a camp fence, they’d rather decide that she’d hid somewhere or drowned in the lake, than that she’d run away. That thought made her proud of herself for a little bit. 

The forest was dark and full of tiny noises — leaves rustling above Pam’s head, her measured breathing, the squeaks of her old sneakers. Almost immediately, Pam turned her flashlight on; its ray lit trees, ferns, and a slightly visible path. She remembered this way, they’d used it when they’d arrived at the camp; a two and a half miles and she’d be at the highway. She just had to stay the course. 

The first problem appeared when Pam noticed a silhouette of a cabin she’d never seen before. She stopped in her tracks and bit her lip. The only buildings here were the cabins in the camp and summer houses near the lake. She’d probably taken a wrong turn, Pam said herself, trying to suppress the wave of panic rising inside her. It was not a big deal. She could retrace her steps and start her journey again. 

She turned back, observed the trees around, and didn’t recognize them at all; Pam looked under her feet, trying to find the path. It wasn’t winding at all, and soon Pam returned to a big oak tree she was sure grew not far away from the camp. She took a couple of deep breaths and went the path again. 

This time she was especially careful, paying attention to every turn of the road, even the slightest one. She noticed a place where the path split in two and told herself that she had just taken the wrong direction the first time. With a triumphant smile, Pam chose the fuller path, deciding that it had to be the right one. 

She ended up near the same cabin. 

This time she couldn’t play it cool. Pam stared at the dark windows, and the traitorous word ‘lost’ crept into her mind. She blinked tears back and tried to remain rational, but the panic took reins and screamed at her to go back to the camp, crawl into her bed, and pray that her runaway stayed unnoticed. Of course, that meant that everyone would be right about her, but it would be better to be despised and safe than gloriously dead, right?

Before she agreed that right, she didn’t have to get herself into more trouble than she’d done already, several things happened at the same time. 

A dazzling white light blinded her. She screamed, but her voice drowned into a loud crashing noise; Pam fell on her knees, pushed her body to the trunk of the nearest tree, closed her eyes, and haphazardly pressed her flashlight to turn it off; the fear petrified her. The idea of leaving the camp had never seemed so horribly wrong as it did now.

But in a few seconds, all of these were over, and the forest was dark and almost innocently quiet again. All Pam could hear was the frantic rhythm of her own heart, stuck somewhere in her throat. 

And then she heard another sound, that seemed eerily out of place — a stifled cry, full of pain. Pam froze on her spot, the new wave of fear engulfed her. The cry repeated, accompanied by someone’s labored breathing. Pam pressed a palm to her mouth so no sound would betray her and carefully peeked out her safe spot behind the tree. 

The door was wide open now, but Pam noticed that much later; her gaze fell on a man, lying on his back in front of the cabin. His eyes were closed, and his chest rose and fell heavily; his right leg stuck out at an odd angle and looked more like a broken branch than a human limb. He definitely needed help, but Pam was too scared to do something other than staring at him. She shifted slightly, and her knee stepped on a thin stick; the loud crack made her gasp, and though her voice was muffled with her hand, the man alerted instantly, turning his head in her direction. 

‘Well, what are you waiting for? Finish me, and we’ll be done with this crap.’ 

When he heard no reply, he repeated louder. 

‘I know where you are hiding! Show yourself!’ 

It was stupid, and Pam knew it, but for years she’d been told to listen to adults, and her reaction on the direct order was almost automatic. She got up her feet, though they shook violently and barely kept her straight. The man on the ground watched as she stepped from behind the tree and furrowed his brows. 

‘Karen wouldn’t send a child to the mission. Who are you?’ he demanded. And she knew that she shouldn’t talk to strangers and scolded herself when she heard her trembling voice. 

‘I’m Pam.’

‘Pam?’ he repeated, and something in his tone changed from assertive to concerning. ‘Pamela Morgan Beesly?’ 

She sucked air sharply and made a step back when he rose on his elbows. 

‘How do you know my name?’

The man seemed to ignore her question, narrowing his eyes to study her features, though, in the darkness, it was barely possible. 

‘You were older, when… no, nevermind. What are you doing here?’ 

Everything inside her screamed to escape; this situation was too creepy and incomprehensible, her journey that had started as ‘Homeward Bound’ turned into a scary movie she wasn’t allowed to watch. Pam made a few more steps ready to turn around and run, and he noticed her moves. 

‘Wait, don’t go, I won’t do any harm to you, I swear, I…. argh!’ 

He had to stir his bad leg and fell back on the ground, hissing in pain, and it was a solid chance for Pam to disappear. And yet again, she couldn’t move; his suffering made her stay. 

‘You’re hurt,’ she stated simply from a distance. 

‘Yeah, I noticed,’ he said back with a crooked smile and unmasked sarcasm in his voice. Pam preferred to tune that out. 

‘I can call for help,’ she suggested, still unsure if she could find a way back in the camp. The thought about how she’d explain her night wandering in the forest never occurred to her. 

‘No need, I recover pretty quickly. Especially if you have something sweet. Candy, chocolate, sugar, something like that.’ 

A picture that had kept her awake for many and many nights after she’d peeked as her older cousins had watched ‘Men in Black’ appeared uninvited. 

‘Are you an alien?’ she blurted out, covering her mouth again and stepping even further. ‘A giant cockroach from outer space?’ 

‘What?’ he asked, obviously stunned with this accusation. ‘I’m not an alien, and I don’t look like a cockroach. Haven’t you noticed?’ 

Pam didn’t answer immediately, just pointed her flashlight at him and turned it on, ignoring his protest as the light hit his face. He wore something that looked like a ragged grandma’s blouse, his nose was rather big and his hair was a complete mess, but otherwise, he looked quite normal.

‘Yep, no antennae,’ she nodded. ‘But your head still looks weird.’ 

‘Ouch,’ the man grumbled, and Pam shrugged. As strange as it was, but somehow his reaction put her at ease. 

‘So, who are you?’ Pam asked again. ‘If you say that you’re not from space.’ 

‘I’m Jim,’ the man said simply as if his response explained everything. 

‘Like Earthworm Jim?’ now Pam was curious. ‘Where is your space suit?’

‘Such a dork,’ he rolled his eyes. ‘‘Why are you so insistent that I’m some kind of cosmic being?’ 

‘Well, I saw a light… and heard a loud noise… and then you appeared,’ Pam explained. ‘What else could I have thought?’ 

‘A horrible light bulb explosion?’ Jim suggested. 

‘Was it a horrible light bulb explosion though?’ Pam asked then and he looked away. 

‘Ummm… no.’

She was ready to ask once more about what had happened, but before she did that Jim tried again to raise his upper torso on the elbows, and winced in pain. 

‘I have a soda can if it helps,’ Pam said carefully, wincing in sympathy. 

‘Oh, that would be quite helpful, thanks,’ he clenched his teeth, stilling himself and giving her a grimace that was supposed to be a reassuring smile. 

Pam took her backpack off and fished out a can. She gauged a distance between them and rolled soda in his general direction. He grunted, trying to reach the can with his fingertips, and chuckled when the item was finally in his hand. With a loud ‘pop!’ the can was opened, and a jet of shaken grape soda hit his face, making Pam burst into giggling. 

‘What’s so funny?’ Jim asked grimly, trying to wipe the sticky liquid with the sleeve of his shirt. 

‘Your face!’ Pam couldn’t stop herself, the giggles escaped her mouth despite the situation and her best efforts to calm down. 

‘Ha-ha-ha,’ Jim finished the can in a couple of big gulps and made a shuddering exhale. ‘Okay, now the hard part. You’d better look away.’ 

But, of course, she didn’t. 

And she watched with horror as he arched his back, the expression on his face full of agony. He reached for his broken leg then and with a sickening crack snapped it in place; his body shuddered, and Pam felt as she was going to throw up. 

A faint light distracted her from Jim’s convulsions. It lit not far away from them and quickly waned; she almost missed the sound that followed. But then there was a light and a sound again, and then again. 

‘Jim?’ Pam tried to have his attention, but he still lay on the ground with his eyes closed and his heavy breathing, and he didn’t notice her meek voice. 

‘Jim!’ she cried when he didn’t react on her first call, and this time his eyes opened wide. He blinked, trying to focus his gaze on her, and gave her a weak smile. 

‘Hey, I’ve told you not to watch,’ 

‘Yeah, I know, but look, I saw the light. Thrice.’ 

‘What light?’

‘I think the same I saw when… when I found you.’ 

‘Oh, crap,’ he muttered and, to Pam’s great astonishment, practically jumped to his feet. He was still shaking slightly, but nothing pointed at the fact that he’d had an open fracture just a few moments ago. 

‘Who are you?’ she whispered. 

‘I’m Jim,’ he said, looking around with concern. ‘Hey, can you run?’ 

She just nodded. 

‘Then run. Now.’ 

‘But… your leg? Are you gonna be alright?’ 

‘Just RUN!’ 

She obeyed, though she wanted to stop and look back to see what happened to Jim so often. But instead, she kept running, her legs moving mechanically, the half-empty backpack hit her lower back at her every step, and the sharp pain settled at the right side under her ribcage. The fourth flash of white light flickered in the distance, and Pam quickened her pace. In every shadow, behind every tree, she saw intimidating silhouettes, that were ready to grab her. The questions swirled in her mind, but the fear kept them bottled. All she could do right now was running for her life. 

She didn’t register the direction and stopped herself right before crashing into something solid; she blinked rapidly, recognizing in the obstacle before her the camp fence. 

Pam didn’t quite remember how she sneaked into her cabin and curled under the blanket on her bed. The fear still made her stomach churn, but once she could finally catch her breath, all thoughts she didn’t dare to think about flooded her mind. Who was that man in the forest? What was he running from? How could he recover from such an injury so quickly? 

And, the most important question — how did he know her name?

She lay and thought and couldn’t find any answers, and that ate her from inside. 

She heard as the door opened as her roommates came back from the dancing; she listened to their sneering comments on her early going to sleep and felt that she couldn’t care less about their stupid issues or their even more stupid opinions. 

The next day, during the game, when after her especially successful attack a ball squashed the nose of her former future best camp friend, Pam felt almost no remorse.