The
cabin is cozy, snug and warm. Whoever built it meant for it to
be a vacation home, not some shanty used only for fishing or deer
season. It is well insulated and stocked with enough wood to
last us weeks. The cupboards were bare when we arrived but we have
made do, spreading our remaining rations thin.
The
A-frame shelter isn’t large but it fits the five of us well
enough. A king sized bed is housed in the loft, accessible by a
leaning wooden ladder. Another bedroom sits off the small kitchen.
Two twin beds fill the small space, with a single dresser
between. A gas lantern sits on the empty table top.
Cable
and I took the bed in the loft, seeing as how we have become used to
watching over each other. Cable remains a gentleman, wrapping
himself in a separate blanket before huddling up behind me for
warmth. Victoria and Alex claim the twin beds while Sal sleeps
on a pull out sofa, though he prefers the recliner more. I
suspect he remains out there to rummage through our things in the
middle of the night. I try to listen for his movements in the
dark but the inviting comfort of the bed draws me into a deep,
restful slumber.
Our
time spent here has not been bad. In fact, it has almost felt like a
little slice of home. After rising this morning, and seeing to
the more basic human needs, I resumed my usual spot by the window,
lounging the day away. I read a book this afternoon. It
wasn’t very good. Some stupid hunting how-to novel, but it
passed the time well enough. I may have even learned a thing or
two about setting traps.
It
feels weird to not be walking, to not be fighting to survive. I could
get used to that.
Now
I sit in the corner of the cabin in an oversized rocking chair and
watch the people in my group. Victoria buzzes like a contented
little bee. The clacking of knitting needles can be heard over
the crackling of fire in the stone hearth. I don’t think
I’ve ever seen her so happy. The stash of yarn and
needles she discovered in the upstairs loft was all it took to bring
her out of her weird depression.
“Look
at her,” I whisper to Cable who sits on the floor beside my
knee. I rock slowly, enjoying the warmth of the nearby fire.
“She looks so happy.”
“She
is.”
“It’s
just yarn.”
Cable
turns his head to look up at me. “It’s familiar,
something from the past. Maybe it will do her some good”
I
try not to speak to Victoria. She and I have had our
differences in the past, but her most recent decline into crazy land
has left her as my least favorite conversation partner.
Alex
sits perched upon an old wooden barstool across the room, his gaze
focused on the back of Sal’s head. When he first
mentioned his concerns in the back of the truck I thought he might be
overacting, but even I’ve begun to see changes in his
personality.
Increased
irritability. Spreading rash along his neck. A facial tic
under his right eye. He scratches in his sleep, muttering and
moaning loud enough to wake all of us. In the light of day I
see a change in his eyes.
Cable
follows the direction of my gaze and frowns. He drops the corner of
the rug that he was fiddling with and turns, speaking from the corner
of his mouth. “I don’t want you near him when I’m
not around.”
“Done.”
His
eyebrow rises. “Really? No argument? No ‘I can take
care of myself’ crap?”
I
laugh and resume my rocking. “The guy’s a bona fide
creep. I’ll happily place him in your charge.”
“Huh.”
He sinks back against the wall. “Well, I never thought
that would happen.”
“Disappointed?”
“I
gotta admit, I am a little.”
I
smirk and rise from the chair. “I need some air.”
Cable
glances toward the window. “It’s going to be dark soon.
Not sure that’s wise.”
“This
is the point where you realize I don’t care.” I
grab a towel off the back of a chair beside the fire. Several
pair of socks and shirts hang nearby. “I’m just
going for a wash.”
Alex
looks up. “You’ll freeze.”
“Well,”
I pause with my hand on the door and glare pointedly at Sal, “maybe
this time I can get a bit of privacy and I won’t be gone long.”
I
didn’t intend to slam the door behind me but the wind rips it
from my hand. I shiver and rub my hands along my arms. Maybe
this wasn’t the best idea.
No.
I need to go. To be alone for the first time in a few
days.
Cable
has been after me to join him for a sunrise walk since the storm
broke. He claims that it’s well worth losing sleep over. I
still have my doubts, and zero intention of taking him up on the
offer. I try to tell myself it’s because I don’t
want to risk spending time alone with him, but this time it’s a
bunch of bunk. I just really love to sleep!
Alex
and Cable scouted out a nearby river with a pool of water mostly
enclosed by rock walls and steep cliff faces. The water is sure
to be freezing but much of the winds should be blocked.
Cable
was kind enough to drag pails of water up to the cabin for Victoria
and me to bathe yesterday. For all of its quaint charm, this cabin
was built rustic. The bathroom was just that...for bathing. No
indoor plumbing. Only a large claw foot tub and a wash basin. And
no lock, so Sal was happy to discover as I was in the middle of
disrobing for a wash last night. I vowed that I’d rather
be dirty than let him see me naked again.
After
days of lying on dirty floors and tramping through mud, muck and deer
shit, I’m desperate to feel clean. To wash the gnarls and dirt
from my hair. What I wouldn’t give for a bar of soap!
The last of it was used on our clothes just this afternoon.
I
know we will have to move on now that the storm has passed but I’m
none too eager to go hunting around another town. The last one left a
bad taste in my mouth.
Following
the path in the fading light, I tread lightly, careful not to step on
the few remaining patches of ice. Leaves crunch beneath my
shoes. The night approaches and with it comes a flurry of
activity as the forest wakes around me. It won't be long before
dusk is lost to me. I need to be back before the final drops of
light fade from the sky.
Picking
up the pace, I clutch my towel to me and hurry down the path. It
has been well used, though not recently by the looks of it. Much
of the grass is matted down, but stray bits have begun to poke back
through the trodden path.
Up
ahead I see a glint of water. I place my hand against a tree
and hoist myself over the final obstacle, a downed log whose innards
have long since rotted away. Placing my towel over the tree, I
quickly pull my shirt over my head. A shiver ripples along my
skin.
“Why
does it have to be winter?” I grumble and hop around, removing
my socks and shoes. The instant I am completely bare I race for
the water.
The
water splashes high against my thigh as I rush into the stream to hip
height. The recent storm has made it feel more like a river as it
overflows its banks. My teeth begin to chatter within seconds.
I scoop handfuls of water and rub it against my sensitive
flesh. The frigid water is invigorating and my shivering helps
to keep me warm.
A
crack of a branch nearby drops me to my knees. I scan the woods
before me, listening for any unusual sounds in the night. An
owl hoots from the treetops. Wind rustles the leaves along the
ground. Naked tree branches clack together overhead. I
feel as if I’m being watched.
My
lower half burns from the cold water, but I dare not rise. I
can sense a presence. The question is...are they alive or withered?
An enemy or a friend?
Several
minutes pass without a sound. My teeth chatter as I wrap my
arms about myself. I have to get out or risk hypothermia, but
not before I know who or what I’m dealing with.
“Sal?
If that’s you out there I swear I’ll tie you to a
tree and leave your sorry ass behind for scaring me!”
Silence.
I
begin to quake and know I don’t have a choice. I’m about
to turn toward my towel when I see movement about a hundred years
ahead of me. A flash of green against the dark trees and then it’s
gone. Its gait was halting but fast.
Shit!
Turning
on my heel, I prepare to dash toward my towel and come up short.
There, standing just behind the tree, is Cable. His eyes
are wide as they trail over my body in the fading light. A
flush rises above the stubble lining his jaw.
Standing
perfectly still, I feel exposed, bare to his sight. “I
uh...God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” He
averts his gaze when I attempt to cover myself with my hands. “I
mean I intended to come find you but I didn’t think you’d
be like that. Shit,” he wipes his hands over his face, as
if trying to mentally remove the image of me from his mind.
“Did
you see it?”
His
hands fall away, instantly alert. His gaze floats beyond me.
“See what?”
“The
Moaner.”
He
closes the distance between himself and the edge of the water,
motioning for me to hurry to his side. My feet feel like blocks
of ice as I trudge through the water toward him. “It’s
gone now,” I say through chattering teeth.
“How
can you be sure?” He risks a glance down at me and then jerks
back up when he looks a bit too low.
“I
saw it leave.”
“Leave?”
His brow furrows. “You make it sound like it came,
stayed for a while and left again.”
“That’s
exactly what I’m saying.” I wrap my arms over my
chest and cross my legs.
“That’s
not possible, Avery. They don’t just watch people. They
don’t feel anything, do anything beyond walk forward.”
“I
know what I saw.”
He
rubs his neck, slowly shaking his head. “You must have been
mistaken. It’s too dark to really see anyway. Maybe it was a
deer or coyote?”
“I
know what I saw,” I repeat. It bothers me that he doesn’t
believe me, but I guess if our roles were reversed I’d have a
hard time believing it too. “Can I have my towel now?”
He
jerks around and snatches it off the log. As if realizing that
he can’t just toss it toward me, he hesitates. Despite
the ache in my lower legs from the freezing water, and the fact that
I’ve just been caught out in all my glory, I close the gap
between us. He raises his gaze for a moment then lowers it
again, the towel dangling from his outstretched hand.
“I’m
cold.”
“No
kidding.” He shakes the towel at me. I take it from
his grasp and he wrenches his hand back.
Wrapping
the cloth around me, I wring excess water from my hair. “You
act like you’ve never seen a naked girl before.”
He
swallows hard, then raises his head to meet my gaze. “None that
didn’t give me previous consent.”
I
laugh and step toward him. “I forgot. You’re not
like that, are you?”
A
muscle along his jaw flinches. “No.”
“Well,
then I guess it goes without saying that I’d appreciate you not
telling the others about our...encounter.”
I
grab my clothes and hold them to me, wondering if I’m really
going to have to ask him to turn away. His blush deepens as my intent
finally sinks in. He spins on his heel. Rushing to dry
myself and slip into my clothes, I hop about behind him.
He
cocks his head to listen and I hear his deep throaty chuckle. “You
try putting jeans on when you’re wet,” I snap.
He
turns away but not before I notice his shoulders rising and falling
with laughter. He props his arm against his side and angles toward
me. “Use me.”
“Well,”
I pause and look him over, “isn’t that a fun proposal?”
He
whirls around, his gaze wide and unblinking. “I’m
not decent yet!”
“Sorry!”
Heat stains his neck as I grab onto him and sort out my pants. With
my hair still dripping, I shove my shirt over my head and nestle into
the warm fibers.
I
kneel down and conceal my feet in socks and shoes before standing.
Though I am fully dressed I still feel exposed. Tucking
my hair behind my ear, I hesitate, no longer sure of what to say.
“I
guess you’re wondering why I followed you…” he
begins. His voice wavers and he falls silent. I almost
feel sympathy for his embarrassment. Almost.
Of
course that crossed my mind a time of two. Cable has proven
himself to be a gentleman. I can’t imagine he came for a peep
show like Sal, but then why else would be have come so close? I
wasn’t exactly being quiet as I splashed about.
“I
was worried about you.” He casts a surly glance toward
the woods. “I guess I had a reason to be.”
A
trembling begins in my fingers that I’m not entirely sure has
anything to do with the cold. What I told Cable was the truth.
No human walks with the same style of stunted steps as the
Withered Ones. As impossible as it may be, I know one of them
was watching me. I just have no way to prove it. “I’m
glad you’re here.”
“Really?”
He seems slightly taken aback by my admission.
“Ok,
well maybe not in this exact situation, but you know what I mean.”
A
smile slowly spreads along his lips. “Do I detect a hint
of need in your voice?”
“Ha.
Did you hit your head on the way out here?”
Cable
grins. “That would make you feel better, wouldn’t
it?”
“Little
bit.”
Water
drips from my hair as we walk. I wring it again. Droplets
patter on the leaves underfoot. The back of my shirt has begun to
soak through. “Cable?”
“Yeah?”
He turns back to look at me. I sympathize with his desire
to get back to the cabin. These woods have lost their feeling
of seclusion for me now.