The progress was slow. I could tell that Amber wasn’t enjoying herself, but when snow flurries began to fly, the least of my concerns was her enjoyment. We didn’t have any way of talking to the others since only Tyler and Jessie had radios.
“Lena, let’s go this way!” Amber turned and led her mare into the forest.
“We’re supposed to go east!”
“I think I saw a cow over here!” she yelled over her shoulder.
I rolled my eyes and nudged Coal forward.
“Amber!” I called, but she kept moving and grew out of sight.
Snow flurries drifted up and down in the wind, and if I wasn’t so nervous, I would have enjoyed the first snowfall. The large, coarse flakes scattered in the wind. Nothing accumulated on the ground, but I knew in the blink of an eye, that could change.
I progressed farther into the woods but still didn’t see Amber. “Amber?” I yelled again.
“Lena, up here!” her voice called in the wind.
My brow furrowed. I wasn’t sure which direction her voice had come from but nudged Coal forward anyway. “Do you know where she is, Coal?”
He moved a foot left, but then waited for me to tell him where to go. I didn’t know what to do for a moment but then pushed him through the growing swamp of trees. It was weird. The air felt . . . different in here, as if it moved.
I shook that feeling off. That didn’t make any sense.
We rode forward with no sign of Amber. What I did find were multiple No Trespassing signs. I was beginning to realize we’d wandered off Pete’s land. I gritted my teeth and cursed Amber, but I kept going. It was either that or leave her out here to freeze to death, as tempting as that was.
Every now and then, a fresh hoof print would appear on the ground, letting me know I was still on the right track. My uneasiness, however, grew. The trees grew denser, and that strange dizzying feeling remained. I didn’t recognize anything.
“Amber? Where are you?” I yelled. When I didn’t get a reply, I screamed again. “Amber!”
A few minutes later, I heard her faint response. “Lena! Over here!”
I glanced over my shoulder. No sign of her. But wasn’t that where she’d yelled from?
Swallowing the dread in my throat, I halted Coal. All around, the forest pressed in on me. I didn’t recognize any of my surroundings. It felt as though I’d already been riding for over an hour with no sign of her. But it couldn’t have been that long—could it?
“Amber!” I yelled again.
“Lena! Over here, quick, come see!”
I wished that I had Jacinda’s hearing. Being able to see a person’s cloud didn’t help. “I can’t see you Amber!”
“Down here, I’m down here!”
It sounded as if she was moving farther and farther away. My uneasiness turned to fear. I had no idea where I was. It looked like behind me had been in front of me, but I knew that couldn’t be correct because we hadn’t turned. Right?
“Amber, where are you!” I screamed.
“Lena?” Amber’s voice called. It was louder this time. I exhaled a breath of relief.
“Amber, where are you?”
“Look to your left.”
I did. She stood no more than twenty feet away. Her horse was tied to a tree. What the heck, how come I didn’t see her? My uneasiness vanished as anger took its place.
“Amber we don’t have time for this! I thought you said you saw a cow—” My voice died.
A cabin, painted the color of the trees, stood dark and foreboding only ten yards away. If we hadn’t been right beside it, I never would have seen it. It was camouflaged that well.
Amber excitedly ran to the side. “I found a way in over here!”
Annoyance flashed through me. “Amber, no! We don’t have time for this. We need to find the rest of the cattle and get back to the barn. Haven’t you noticed a storm’s coming in?”
“Yeah, I know,” she called. “But you’ve got to see this! You won’t believe all the cool stuff in here!”
“That’s breaking and entering.”
“Come on, Lena! Just one quick look!”
“Amber.” I groaned, slid off Coal and tied him beside the mare. I’d pull Amber kicking and screaming from the cabin if I had to. We didn’t have time for sightseeing or trespassing. I glanced toward the northern skyline, or at least where I thought the northern skyline was, and pictured Flint. Was he safe up there?
“Lena?” Amber’s muffled voice called.
She peered through a window. Amber was already inside. She waved but then disappeared from view.
I stalked to the back of the home. Trees surrounded the cabin on all sides. A few areas around the cabin had homemade chairs and tables. Another area had rocks at just the right height for sitting. Squinting, I thought I saw something else.
My eyes widened when I spotted a small barn about twenty yards away. It was barely visible through the growing snow. Like the cabin, it was perfectly camouflaged. Around it was a small fenced enclosure. Why would someone want a barn all the way up here?
Maybe whoever owned this place rode their horses to access it. Turning back to the cabin, I uttered a sound of disgust. Amber had left the door open. Cold air blew inside. I walked up the porch, my steps loud on the wood planks. I inspected the lock on the front door. Triple deadbolt. There was no way she’d have been able to break into this place. That only meant one thing. The door had been unlocked.
While that didn’t surprise me, most folks in this area didn’t bother locking their properties, it didn’t add up. Why would someone leave their door unlocked yet have so many bolts in place?
I stepped inside. Once in the entryway, the wind died down and the words that were on the tip of my tongue vanished. I was speechless for a moment. The cabin was huge, much bigger than I’d thought. A large kitchen was off to the right. It was simple and rustic yet had actual appliances. Cabinets lined the walls and a table that could seat ten sat in the middle. The entire room was clean. I stepped closer and slid my finger along the counter. No dust.
Frowning, I walked to the sink. My eyes widened when I saw a bowl in it. Milk and a few bits of cereal floated in the dish. It wasn’t rancid smelling and no mold was present. My heart stopped. That only meant one thing.
Someone, today or very recently, had been here. Probably the person who lived here.
I raced from the sink and yelled for Amber. “Amber! Get down here, now! This place isn’t abandoned!”
“Lena, come see!”
I stalked across the wood floors into a living area. The living room held three, large sofas with plump cushions. Several tables and chairs lined the windows.
Each table had board games on them. On the far wall, by the massive fireplace, spread an entire wall of shelves. Rows and rows of books covered them. I tried not to pry but couldn’t help but notice the titles.
There were classics and current fiction, but also non-fiction. Textbooks lined the entire bottom row: math, science, history, art, astronomy, physics . . . The list appeared to go on for the entire length.
As much as I knew we needed to leave, curiosity won. Pulling one out, I lifted the stiff cover. The edition date was within the last five years.
I flipped through the pages. Handwritten notes filled the margins. Whoever this belonged to he, or she, had read the entire thing. I carefully put it back.
“Lena, would you get up here!” Amber called.
I spun around to see her at the top of a ladder. The cabin was two stories. To the side of the living room, a ladder climbed up to a loft area. Amber waited at the top.
“There are bedrooms up here!” she cried.
“Amber, we really need to go.” My annoyance flared again. “Somebody lives here! Don’t you see that?”
Of course, she ignored me.
I stomped up the ladder. On the second floor, there was a short hallway. Several doors lay on either side. I walked to the first. It held a bedroom. It was small, only holding a sing
le bed and desk. A lone window revealed snow flying outside.
“Amber?” I turned away. The second room held three beds, also single beds, like the first room, but this room was decorated. Hand drawn pictures of machines, solar systems, chemical structures and landscapes hung on the walls. They were intricately drawn. Whoever had done them had taken their time.
“Lena, I found something!” Amber called.
I fled from the room to the last door in the hallway. As I rushed in, I unconsciously realized it was the biggest room of the three. Two sets of bunk beds, and one single bed lined the walls along with two big dressers. There were also two desks and a large shelf of books.
Amber sat in the middle of the floor and paged through a notebook. There were pages and pages of animal drawings. Horses, birds, mountain lions, wolves, otters, bears, it was an endless collection.
“This entire notebook is full of them!” she said, smiling. Her cowboy hat sat to the side, and her legs were curled daintily underneath her. It seemed for all intentions she had settled in for the afternoon.
“Amber, we need to go,” I said sharply. “There’s a blizzard brewing outside, and this isn’t our place. Somebody lives here and could be back any minute. Get up! We’re leaving!”
“But look at this,” Amber exclaimed and jumped up. She walked to the shelf and pulled out a book. At first, I thought it was an old folder of some kind, but when she opened it—it held a variety of fashion magazines.
“These are all from last year,” Amber stated. “Whoever lived here, or lives here,” she said when she saw my expression, “must keep up on current stuff.”
“That’s nice, but we have to go.” I walked to the window. Snow flew everywhere. My stomach sank. How were we supposed to find our way out?
“We really need to go. This blizzard is getting worse. So, put everything back and—”
Amber was gone. The drawings lay scattered on the floor.
“Amber!” I hurried out of the room and searched the other two bedrooms. No sign of her. When I got to the ladder, I could easily see that she wasn’t in the living room. I almost tripped in my haste to get down. I yelled again.
No answer.
Cursing, I walked back into the kitchen and then back to the living room. There were other rooms. Doors lined the back of the living area. There had to be more rooms on the first floor. I raced to them and began opening the doors one by one.
The first was a closet. The second held a full bathroom. So this cabin had running water. Surprising. I closed the door and moved onto the next.
The third door held a stairwell.
My mouth dropped. Inky blackness greeted me. “Amber?” The sound echoed in the dark void.
I fumbled on the wall and found a light switch. Amazingly, it hummed to life when I switched it on. So this cabin had power too. The light revealed smooth concrete stairs and concrete walls. At the bottom was another hallway, but I couldn’t see where it led. It was shadowed in inky darkness.
I glanced over my shoulder, but still didn’t see Amber.
“I’m going to kill her,” I whispered and took the first step.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I slowly descended, my footsteps echoing in the stairwell. The air grew colder and colder. When I reached the bottom, another door stood to the left. The solid door felt heavy when I turned the handle. It opened with a rush of stale air.
The second the door swung open, a light flicked on.
I stared at the small room, my confusion growing. Concrete walls enclosed the tiny space. A single, modern light hung above. Along each side of the room lay benches. Several hooks on the walls, above the benches, held white suits.
Frowning, I stepped closer and felt one. I lifted a sleeve. Each had a hood with a plastic face shield.
“Biohazard suits?” I whispered incredulously. What the heck would someone have these for?
Under the benches, cubbies held boots, latex gloves, and masks. At the end of the small room, another door waited, no more than eight feet from me.
Breathing shallowly, I stepped closer. The door had a window, but whatever lay on the other side stayed hidden in darkness.
My chest rose and fell painfully fast. I reached out, grasped the door handle and tried to turn it. It wouldn’t budge. I then noticed the password-protected key pad off to the right.
“How odd,” I murmured.
But my jarring the door triggered something. Lights flooded the barricaded room. My mouth dropped as I stepped closer to the glass and peered inside.
“What the hell . . .” I stared into the room, too stunned to move.
“Lena?”
“Amber!” I whirled away from the window and raced back up the stairs.
Amber stood just outside the last door, the fourth one, the one I hadn’t had a chance to open yet.
“Come see this.” Her voice shook.
“Amber! What are you doing?” I raced into the room, my eyes wide with panic.
Amber stood in what appeared to be an office. Papers were strewn everywhere. When my gaze rose to her face, my anger and confusion vanished. Tears shimmered in her luminous eyes.
She held up papers with shaking hands. “Look. These were lying here.”
I took a tentative step closer. Amber gave me the papers and then balled her fists to her mouth. A soft wail escaped her.
I leafed through the papers’ contents, my eyes widening with every page, my chest rising and falling faster with each new sheet. “No!” I whispered. “How can this be?”
Amber whimpered as tears rolled down her face. “What does it mean?”
I shook my head. Between this and the room downstairs, I didn’t know what to think of this place. It certainly wasn’t a vacation retreat.
“I don’t know, but we need to get out of here!” I folded the papers and stuffed them in my pocket. “Come on.” I clamped ahold of her wrist.
I dragged Amber through the cabin and out the back door. A part of me half expected someone to appear, as if we were being watched, or followed. An image of the cereal bowl flashed through my mind.
Once outside, I propelled Amber to the horses. I hurriedly brushed snow from our saddles, my movements jerky. Already, an inch of white powder sat on the ground.
The feeling of being watched grew. I didn’t know if it was my imagination going crazy, or if it was a valid concern. For a second, a buried image of Aaron surfaced in my mind. I shuddered, forcing the memory down.
I mounted Coal and heard a soft wail. Amber stood by my side, crying. “Amber,” I said sharply. “Get on your horse!”
She just cried harder.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. In a softer tone, I said, “Amber, honey, we need to go. Just untie your mare and we’ll meet the others.” I held my breath, not sure what she’d do, but then with stiff movements, she mounted her horse.
“Good. Now, follow me.” I led us back into the woods, but after a few minutes realized I didn’t know which way we’d come from. I swiveled around in my seat.
Amber followed right behind, her eyes wide. I glanced to my left, right and then straight ahead. Snow fell all around. I wasn’t sure where to go.
“Are we lost?”
I shook my head. “No, we’ll find our way back.”
I nudged Coal forward. Flurries flew everywhere. The farther we traveled from the cabin, the safer I felt, which didn’t make any sense, since it had probably dropped another ten degrees. At least the cabin would provide shelter. We weren’t dressed or prepared for winter weather.
Coal’s huge hooves made deep imprints in the snow. He calmly waited for me to guide him. I floundered. I didn’t know where we were, and I was all turned around. I had no idea which way was north, south, east or west. Frantically, I looked up, but the vast gray ceiling above offered little help.
“You don’t know how to get out of here, do you?” Amber asked.
I answered honestly. “No, I don’t. I don’t know where we are.”
We both stood there, and for the first time since we left the group, I felt the gravity of our situation. We were deep in the mountains, at high altitude, with no protection other than our jackets. We had no way to find the ranch, and a blizzard was brewing.
“What should we do?” I asked.
She shook her head. Tears sprang into her eyes. “I don’t know!”
“I guess we keep walking forward.” Maybe we could find a stream. That’s what Dean said to do if I got lost. I swallowed and turned around before nudging Coal again. We walked farther but I felt convinced we had moved deeper into the forest. Once again, I stopped.
“I’m sorry, Amber,” I called loudly over the wind. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Neither do I!” she wailed. We both stared at each other. I reached out and grabbed her hand as snow flew around. As our fingers wrapped around each other’s, Amber’s gaze snapped wide open. “Wait! I do know what to do!”
“You do?”
“Or, at least I think I do,” she replied. I had no idea what she was talking about, but instead of telling me her plan, she closed her eyes and lifted her head. She sniffed the air and then exhaled deeply before sniffing again. Her eyes flashed open. “This way.”
She nudged her mare forward. I followed.
We meandered through the forest, the sky darkening while more and more snow fell. I had no idea how long we walked. It seemed not only direction, but time, became jumbled in this part of the forest, but each time I felt certain we were more lost, Amber lifted her nose and smelled the air.
“Are you sure you know where we’re going?”
She didn’t answer. Deep concentration lined her face. I continued to follow, not at all convinced we’d find our way out, but eventually, the trees thinned. Thirty yards after that, an opening appeared. Out of nowhere, I spotted a cow. As we got closer, the entire herd appeared. I’d never been so happy to see anything in my life.
“Amber, you did it!” I exclaimed.
Her eyes snapped open. A triumphant grin broke across her face. “It worked!”
“How’d you do it?”
She smiled. “I followed their scent.” She nodded toward the cattle. “They have a strong stench.”
The Complete Lost Children Series Page 22
