The sun slowly disappeared behind the mangroves near the river mouth.
The tide was ebbing slowly.
From the porch of the wooden house, Thao gazed out at the creek in front of them. The water was so still that it reflected the pale orange sky in perfect detail. Beautiful in a strangely unsettling way.
Beautiful in a way that made you feel… it was too quiet.
“Maybe he rowed the skiff somewhere?”
Tuyet took a bite of her cake and looked around.
Nhut shook his head.
“Phong doesn’t know how to row.”
“Maybe he borrowed someone else’s.”
“There’s no one around here.”
The three of them looked toward the dirt road leading to the house.
Not a single person had passed by all afternoon.
Not one vehicle.
Not a child’s voice.
Only the wind.
And the water.
It was almost six in the evening.
Nhut decided to call Phong.
The number was unreachable.
A second time.
Still the same.
A third time.
The phone suddenly rang.
All three of them stared at the screen.
PHONG IS CALLING.
Nhut quickly answered.
“Hey! Where are you?”
There was silence on the other end.
Only the wind.
The sound of water.
Then a very quiet voice came through.
“…Nhut…”
“It’s me. Where are you?”
“Sorry…”
Phong’s voice sounded normal.
But it seemed very far away.
So far away that the wind carried off half of every sentence.
“I’ve got something urgent… I have to go back to Saigon right away.”
“What?”
“I was going to text… but my battery died…”
“Sorry…”
“When I get back, drinks are on me.”
Nhut frowned.
“How are you getting there? Where’s the vehicle?”
There was no answer.
Only the sound of water.
Then…
Plunk…
As if something had fallen into the river.
The call ended.
“What did Phong say?”
Tuyet asked.
Nhut told them everything.
Thao said nothing.
She stared at the phone.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Why not?”
“He said his battery died.”
“Yeah.”
“So how did he call us?”
All three of them froze.
None of them had thought of that.
Night fell quickly.
In the Cùm River area, after seven in the evening, there was almost no light left except for the weak yellow glow inside the house.
The electricity flickered.
Bright.
Dark.
The old radio on the shelf suddenly crackled.
“K…rrrkkk…”
Nhut walked over.
“Did it turn itself on?”
He twisted the power knob.
The radio had been off.
But the static continued.
Then an old man’s voice broke through the interference.
“…if… anyone… can hear me…”
“…don’t…”
“…don’t go into the water…”
Click.
The radio fell silent.
The three of them looked at one another.
Tuyet gave an awkward laugh.
“It’s just an old radio.”
No one answered.
Around eight o’clock, Nhut suggested going outside to ask the locals about Phong.
They walked nearly two hundred meters before they saw the light from a small house.
An old man was mending a net.
“Good evening, sir.”
The old man raised his head.
His clouded, timeworn eyes studied the three of them for a long while.
“You’re staying in the house at the end of the creek?”
“Yes, sir.”
He didn’t answer.
He simply set down the net.
“How much did you rent it for?”
“One million two hundred thousand for three days.”
The old man gave a humorless smile.
“Too cheap.”
Nhut nodded.
“Yes, sir.”
The old man looked straight into his eyes.
“Cheap… because no one wants to stay there.”
The air suddenly grew heavy.
Thao asked softly,
“You know that house?”
“I do.”
“The owner had a son a long time ago.”
“What happened to him?”
The old man slowly poured some tea.
“The boy disappeared.”
“Just like your friend.”
The three of them flinched.
“How do you know one of us is missing?”
The old man didn’t answer.
He only looked toward the old mangrove apple tree swaying gently in the darkness.
“Tonight…”
“If you hear someone call your name…”
“Don’t answer.”
On the way back.
None of them said a word to the others.
Nhut forced a laugh.
“He’s probably just trying to scare his guests.”
Tuyet laughed along.
But Thao didn’t.
She couldn’t stop thinking about one detail.
The old man had never asked Phong’s name.
So how did he know that her group… was missing one person?
When they got back to the house, Thao took out her camera and looked through the pictures she’d taken that morning.
She scrolled through them one by one.
The mangrove apple tree.
The porch.
The creek.
The wooden table.
The picture hanging on the wall.
Then she reached the last one.
Her finger stopped.
In the window behind Nhut, there was a figure standing.
Wearing white.
Its head bowed low.
Hair completely covering its face.
Thao immediately turned to look at the window.
There was no one there.
She looked back at the picture.
The figure was still there.
“Tuyet…”
“Come here.”
“What is it?”
“Look at this.”
Tuyet took the camera.
Her face went pale.
“When did you take this?”
“This morning.”
“But… there was no one behind Nhut then.”
Thao zoomed in on the picture.
The figure was so blurry it nearly blended into the light.
But one thing was perfectly clear.
At the figure’s feet…
There was no shadow at all.
At eleven that night, everyone decided to go to bed early.
No one was in the mood to talk anymore.
Nhut lay in bed, unable to fall asleep.
The wind.
The water.
The insects.
Every sound was normal.
Until exactly…
2:00 a.m.
Knock…
The sound came again.
Right beneath the porch floor.
Knock…
Knock…
This time.
It wasn’t one footstep.
It was three.
Slow.
Evenly spaced.
As if three people were walking around the house.
Nhut held his breath.
He looked at the clock.
The footsteps suddenly stopped right outside his bedroom door.
Then…
A very quiet voice.
Hoarse and rasping.
“…Nhut…”
His eyes flew open.
That voice…
It was Phong’s voice.
“Open the door…”
“I’m so cold…”
Nhut went rigid.
He remembered the old man’s warning.
“If you hear someone call your name…”
“Don’t answer.”
The room sank into silence.
One minute.
Two minutes.
Three minutes.
The voice disappeared.
Nhut let out a sigh of relief.
But just as he was about to lie back down…
The phone beside his pillow lit up.
A new message had arrived.
Sender:
Phong.
The message contained only one sentence.
“I’m under the house.”