by Hunter Shea
“No, I can’t,” Kate said softly. When Andrew caught her eye, she looked guilty, as if she hadn’t meant to speak it out loud.
“If that’s a fucking fox, I’m Lady Gaga,” Nikki said. She still hadn’t moved from her spot.
Ryker tried to lighten the mood by saying, “You do sing pretty good in the shower.”
The scream came again, a ragged, throat-searing screech that morphed into a strangled howl before tapering to a dull, repetitive chuffing. Every hair on Andrew’s body stood on end. He backed into the bed and sat next to Kate, gripping her hand.
This was nothing like before. At least on the other nights, they had found correlations to the strange sounds lurking around the cottage.
Not this time. What was out there sounded neither like man nor beast.
Nikki flew into Ryker’s arms. Andrew knew it was impossible, but the temperature in the cottage seemed to plummet twenty degrees.
“The doors!” Andrew exclaimed, bolting from the bed to lock the front and back doors.
“Do the windows have locks?” Ryker asked. Nikki had her face buried in his chest.
Andrew shook his head. Of course they didn’t. Why the fuck would you need window locks out here in the middle of the sticks?
To keep the monsters out, he thought, sending a fresh wave of shivers up his back.
Kate caught his eye and he was more alarmed by what he saw. She’d gone white as the sheet, fat beads of sweat pouring down her face.
“Kate?”
She was still staring at the sliding glass doors.
The flimsy sliding glass doors.
Suddenly, Andrew was finding weaknesses everywhere. They wouldn’t be able to stop a determined child from breaking in, much less a…a…
“Shhh,” Kate said, eerily calm.
“What?” Ryker whispered. Nikki wiped her eyes and did her best to compose herself.
Kate pointed at the doors. “It’s out there.”
The cabin was preternaturally silent. Andrew breathed slowly through his mouth, straining to listen.
“Is it on the porch?” he said, wondering if Kate had heard the creak of the wooden steps, if there was something (no…someone) standing still just on the other side of the blinds, waiting patiently.
“No,” she said. “But it’s close, and coming closer.”
“How do you know that?” Ryker said.
They all stared at the doors, not daring to move, to make any noise that would mask the approach of whatever was in those woods and making those hideous sounds.
“Wait, I hear it,” Nikki said.
Andrew and Ryker stepped toward the glass doors. The floor popped under their feet and Nikki gave a startled gasp.
Hand clasped over her mouth, she muttered, “Sorry.”
Andrew stopped a couple of feet from the doors and leaned as close as his crawling gooseflesh would allow.
He heard it.
The soft crunch of leaves.
Someone was walking out there, close to the fire pit from the sound of it, and they didn’t care who heard them. His heart beat in his throat as he tracked the footsteps, fading to the right, now circling past the bedroom.
“Stay right here,” he said to Ryker.
Kate’s face had gone blank. If he hadn’t known better, he would have sworn she was hypnotized.
“Are you okay?” he said, touching her forehead. His hand came away hot and soaked. “How’s your chest?”
Being scared like this was dangerous for her. He was far more afraid of her having a heart attack out here, miles from the nearest hospital (and something in the woods separating them from the car) than he was of their returning stalker.
His wife’s breathing was slow and steady, which was at least one good sign.
“It’s fine,” she said, her voice far away, lost in a dream – or in this case, a waking nightmare.
“Nikki,” he said. His sister-in-law grabbed the washcloth and wiped Kate’s face and neck down.
Andrew skidded in his socks, nearly crashing into the front door. He rested his ear on the sturdy door, hands clenching and unclenching, waiting.
He didn’t have to wait long. The footsteps grew louder as whoever was outside passed by the front of the house. He followed their progression as they went by the kitchen, then around again to the back.
“He’s circling us,” he hushed across the cottage.
“I hear him,” Ryker answered. He looked like his bones wanted to leap from his skin.
They waited in silence for a minute or two, the footfalls sounding closer. Ryker pointed toward the bedroom. “He’s coming your way again.”
“What the fuck is he doing? And who the fuck is he?” Nikki said. She sat beside Kate, holding her hand.
“I don’t know,” Andrew said.
Nikki grew suspicious. “I thought you said it was an animal.”
Andrew didn’t want to talk. He wanted to keep his ears zeroed in on their stalker. “Not now,” he hissed, motioning for her to quiet down.
The footsteps came toward the front again. Yes, they were definitely closer this time around. He moved his ear from the door, feeling that the wood wasn’t thick enough to protect him any longer.
But protect him from what?
One thing he was sure of – whoever or whatever was out there, there was only one. With him and Ryker covering both ends of the cottage, they would have heard if there were more than that.
One against the two of us, he thought. I have the rifle. Maybe Ryker and I should run out there and put the fear of God and gunpowder in him.
You’re not going to kill someone.
Just give him a damn good scare.
Yeah, like the one you thought you gave him before? All that seemed to do was piss him off and scare myself.
Piss it off.
Not an it. It’s someone walking on two legs. Two legs and one damaged brain.
Through everything, he hadn’t taken notice of Buttons. The dog had been nonchalant about their visitor in the past, and tonight was no different. He was in the kitchen now, slurping from his water bowl.
Andrew watched his tail wag lazily, a dog without a care in the world.
Should we be taking our cues from Buttons? If he’s not worried, why are we?
Dogs had far keener senses than people. While Andrew could only hear the stalker, Buttons could smell him, scent out the man’s intentions. Andrew remembered the day he’d taken Buttons to the new dog park a mile from their house. It was just after dinner and the place was mostly empty. Buttons did a little butt-sniffing on a Pomeranian while Andrew talked to the couple walking the yapping little dog. It turned out the woman had gone to the same school where Andrew’s mother had worked as a secretary. They’d been chatting for a while, the dogs getting along nicely, when a man walked by, wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase. There was a townhouse development at one end of the park and several glass office buildings at the other. Andrew had assumed the man was simply walking home after a long day at work.
Buttons took one look at the man and went berserk. He tugged on the leash so hard, Andrew nearly fell trying to keep him heeled. The man jumped away from the snarling beagle, holding his briefcase in front of him like a shield. Andrew apologized profusely, all while his normally amiable dog did everything in his power to get at the man.
“Dogs usually like me,” the man said, casting furtive looks behind him as he walked away.
Two weeks later, Andrew saw the man again.
This time, he was on the news, accused of molesting the two preteen girls he and his wife were fostering. In fact, both adults were taking turns with the girls, and there was speculation they had been doing it to at least a dozen other children they had fostered over the past decade.
Buttons had known. There was nothing about the man�
��s appearance that screamed child molester! Andrew didn’t know how the beagle had known, but he was positive Buttons had sniffed out the man’s dark soul as easily as he could his treats.
So why wasn’t he going bananas now?
Because it’s just a kid and Buttons knows stupid when he smells it. You can’t get mad at stupid. Only feel pity.
The footsteps stopped.
Andrew waved his hand for Ryker to come over. He pointed at the dog.
“See how chill he is?”
“Yeah,” Ryker said.
“I think that’s his way of telling us to settle down.”
“Or he’s just too nice for his own good. Or too old.”
Andrew didn’t have time to go into the molester story.
Whoever was out there wasn’t far from the front door.
“I’m going out with Buttons,” Andrew said.
“Not without me, you aren’t.”
“Hold on a sec.”
Andrew went to the supply closet and dug into the back, where he’d hidden the rifle. When Nikki saw it, she screamed, “Have you lost the plot? A gun?”
Kate didn’t turn around to look or utter a word. That worried Andrew deeply. He needed to get rid of this moron and focus all of his attention on her instead.
“Seriously?” Ryker said, eyeing the rifle.
“I promise I won’t shoot anyone.”
“Oh, well, then that makes me feel better.” Ryker mopped his brow with his forearm.
“I’m calling the police before you end up in jail,” Nikki said. She ran to the bedroom to look for her phone.
“Buttons, come here,” Andrew said. The beagle looked up from his bowl, water trickling off his snout, and padded over.
Andrew grabbed the doorknob and was about to twist it when he stopped, suddenly unsure. He took a deep, steadying breath and tried again, heart thudding, skin crawling, at war with himself but knowing deep down he had to see. More than anything, he had to see what was out there.
“He’s right outside. It’s now or never.”
Ryker grimaced, balled his fists, and said, “Fine. Let’s scare him away, not blow him away.”
All Andrew could do was nod. His teeth were clamped so hard, it felt as if his jaw had locked.
Buttons stayed between them, sniffing at the door but still not raising his hackles.
So why am I so freaked out?
He had just started to turn the knob when the house shook on its foundation. Andrew jumped back as if the knob were a screaming-hot oven, the rifle slipping from his tenuous grasp.
Next came a dreadful howl that was so loud, so close, it sounded as if it were coming from within the cottage.
Nikki let loose with a terrified screech.
Buttons started barking furiously, paws scratching at the door.
And then the power went out.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The bed shook seconds before the lights went out. The sudden plunge into darkness whipped Kate from her paralysis.
Andrew, Ryker, and Nikki were all yelling, but she couldn’t make out a single word. It was like being trapped in a dream, her brain fuzzy, disconnected, unable to grasp what was going on around her. Utterly blind in the total darkness, she tried calling out for Andrew, but only a strangled gasp spilled from her mouth.
What had happened?
It felt like an earthquake.
Kate had never been in one before (though she remembered reading the little card about what to do in case of an earthquake at the hotel she and Andrew stayed in when they went to San Francisco), but what else could rattle an entire house like that?
Unless a car or truck had lost control and plowed into them.
She would have heard a car barreling down the narrow drive.
Aaaaaaaahhhhhuuuuuuggghhhhhhh!
The beastly wail stopped her heart.
“An…Andrew!”
The scream broke from her locked throat.
“Kate!”
She heard heavy footsteps, then felt her husband’s body press against her. She smelled his aftershave and pulled him close, her face pressed to his neck.
“Andrew, what’s happening?”
“I don’t know.”
“Nikki!” Ryker shouted.
“I’m all right.”
Kate twisted within Andrew’s embrace to look behind her. A white glow, almost like a ghost floating into the room, found Ryker in the kitchen, his back against the sink, both hands gripping the counter. She could just make out Nikki, the cell phone held out in front of her like a candle.
“What the fuck was that?” Nikki said. She sounded on the verge of tears.
“It’s like something tried to lift the house,” Ryker said. He used the cell phone’s light to locate the block of knives, extracted the big chef’s knife, and pulled Nikki close.
Kate’s hand drifted to Andrew’s chest. She could feel his heart pounding madly. “Hand me my tablet,” she said.
He passed it to her and she turned it on, adding a little more light to the cottage.
It cast weird shadows on Andrew’s face, making him look like a ghoul from an old silent horror movie.
Lon Chaney from Phantom of the Opera, she thought. That’s exactly what he looks like.
Had those bags and dark circles always been there?
She shifted the tablet away from him.
“Do you have any candles?” Ryker said.
“Yes,” Andrew said. “There’s a whole drawer of them.”
He got up, his fingers lingering in her hair before he left her side, and started roughly opening drawers in the kitchen. “Get me some saucers,” he said. Nikki and Ryker found the few saucers they had in the cabinet.
Andrew lit a match. The sulfur smell permeated the cottage. He lit the wick on a long, thin candle and let the wax drip onto the saucer. He pushed the end of the candle into the wax, holding it until it set. Nikki took over, lighting the rest.
Outside, the howling had stopped.
The flickering glow of candlelight revealed Buttons scratching at the door, letting out the occasional wary growl.
Andrew picked up the rifle.
Kate was too jittery to just lie in bed. With a little effort, she managed to get to her feet. Her fever had lessened, but it still had her on a low boil. Even the soft kiss of displaced air felt like needle pricks on her skin. Every joint in her body felt as if it had been spackled with grains of glass. She walked unsteadily and looped several fingers under the dog’s collar, pulling him from the door. He didn’t fight her, but he also didn’t shift his attention a single inch. His stubby legs remained locked and rigid, sliding backward on the bare floor.
Keeping the barrel of the rifle pointed at the ground, Andrew put his index finger to his lips. Everyone went silent, including Buttons.
The only noise in the cottage was the crackling of a candlewick.
There were no more howls, no crunching footsteps circling the house. It was so deathly quiet, Kate was sure if they opened a window, the crickets would even be lying low.
“I think he’s gone,” Ryker said.
Kate felt the tension coiled within Buttons’ collar.
No, Buttons sure doesn’t think he’s gone.
“Shite, I have no bars,” Nikki moaned. “Do any of your phones work?”
“Not without the Wi-Fi,” Andrew said. “You’d have to get to the main road and drive about a mile before you got decent cell service.”
“What about a landline? This is an old-fashioned little place. Surely they have one.”
Andrew shook his head. “Nope.”
“Well, then we’re good and properly screwed. Are we supposed to call the police by smoke signal?”
Nikki had gone from scared to angry, and Kate thought that might be
a good thing. Anything was better than cowering in fright.
“Kate, can I borrow your tablet?” Andrew asked. She handed it over, happy to be rid of the excess weight. The tablet and its case were heavier than her damaged shoulders could stand for much longer.
He disappeared, but she could hear him open the metal door to the circuit breakers, the clicking sound of flipping switches giving her hope, then dashing it when the lights refused to go on.
When he came back, he was sweating profusely.
“I’m gonna check outside and see, make sure the foundation of the house is still in one piece. We might have to abandon the place,” Andrew said, though he didn’t make a move toward the door.
“Let’s go,” Ryker said. “I’ll open the door and you go out first, show them you’re armed…if anyone’s bothered to stick around. I think the damage is done and he scattered.”
“He?” Nikki huffed. “You think a single person could do this to a house? That’s utter nonsense.”
The men ignored her. Andrew lifted the rifle. Ryker twisted the doorknob and pulled the door open.
Buttons broke free, scampering out the door, barking the way he did when he chased squirrels in the yard back home.
“Buttons!” Kate squealed.
She ran after him, or her version of running, brushing past Andrew and Ryker, heedless of Nikki’s cries to get back inside.
The beagle bounded down the couple of steps and disappeared into the pitch.
“Buttons, get back here!”
“Kate, get inside,” Andrew blurted. She took a quick glance over her shoulder and saw him reaching for her. She just avoided his grasping fingers.
The dog barked and yipped, but she couldn’t see him. He sounded close, but that was little comfort.
“Buttons!”
An arm wrapped around her waist, making her jump. Andrew put his lips close to her ear. “I’ll get him. I need you to get back in the cottage, now.”
She couldn’t believe how incredibly dark it was out here. With no lights and a thumbnail of moon, it was like being locked in a closet. There wasn’t even a lick of wind, so it felt just as stuffy.
“I have to find him,” she insisted.
