Today is October 31st, 1987. Your friends have invited you to join them for a night of camping and partying. The campsite is around a two hour drive from where you live now. You aren't sure who the property belongs to, but it's not far from where Fred Murks' grandmother lived. You, Fred, and another friend of yours named Steve Dirks had made the site as kids before she died a couple of years later from pneumonia. You haven't been back since then. It was at least a cool place to go when you were too young to be smoking cigarettes because no one ever bothered you out there.
Your friends are bringing the camping equipment, food, and beer. It should be a fun night. Supposedly some girls were going to be showing up as well, but we'll see about that.
You come around one last tight curve and see Fred's car parked on the side of the road. It's probably safe to assume that they have already gathered their stuff and went to set up camp. You park nearby, and then feel the chilly air of the Fall afternoon as you step out of your car and lock the door...
(Hit any key to continue)