Secluded Cabin Sleeps Six(79)

Even though it was ancient history now, a family had been murdered up there. A disturbed man had murdered his family.The Realtor had told him about it—because she had to by law. The property had sat empty for nearly twenty years when he bought the acres for a song. He’d razed the small house that had gone to seed, cleared the building site, and set out to build the house that he’d intended to live in. He wasn’t afraid of ghosts.

Over the years, stories of a woman in white walking through the trees wailing for her children had circulated. In the nineties a group of teenagers said they saw a little girl wading in the creek. They told police that they chased after her but she disappeared. No evidence of a girl was found; no one had been reported missing. But the truth was the body of the Anderson girl had been found far from the house, as though she’d wandered off after she’d been shot and died by the creek.

Bracken had never seen anything of the sort, no woman in white, no wading child. As far as he was concerned dead was dead. And the world was full of terrible tragedies. Was there an inch of ground anywhere untouched by darkness of some kind?

He thought about what the yoga girl had said, about the place feeling unsettled.

It was true that there were more problems at Overlook than he had at his other places—some guests reported strange noises in the night. Raccoons, most likely. The power went out a bit too often, hence the generator. Now the generator, brand-new and recently inspected by Bracken himself, not coming on. There were roof leaks, the occasional plumbing problem. The banal challenges of home ownership. Not haunting.

“Can we wait until the storm passes?” asked Bob, more worried about the weather, Bracken was sure, than afraid to go up to Overlook.

“Seems like there’s a bit of a break now,” Bracken pressed.

Bob looked up at the sky. It was clear enough for a patch of starlight. “Not for long.”

“The guest is offering a big bonus if we can get the road cleared tonight. Seems like there might be something going on up there.”

It was hard to motivate Bob with money. He was a man who needed little. But he regarded Bracken seriously. Finally, he issued a grunt and went inside. When he came back out, he wore a rain poncho with a hood, thick boots.

“I’ll follow you out there,” he said.

“Appreciate it,” said Bracken and headed back to the truck.

He turned and headed back toward the tree. Finally the headlights of the other man’s truck appeared on the road behind him.





33


Hannah

She headed down the slippery path, one hand trailing trees using them for balance in the slick mud, the flashlight gripped in the other. The beam bounced and the rain was just a slight drizzle.

Even as a kid, she’d loved the woods—camping with her dad, Camp Fire Girls outings where they learned to build a shelter, make a fire, find their direction. That smell of burning wood and marshmallows, the stillness, the stars. Bruce was not into camping. But she still craved that quiet, that separation from the modern world and all its noise and chatter.

But tonight it was so dark, all the lights in the house out, the moon and stars disappeared behind cloud cover. And she was intent only on getting them back home; any fantasy she had about communion with nature and disconnection from the modern world was blown to pieces. Connection to her daughter was the only thing she wanted now.

She looked in the direction where Bruce and Mako had disappeared, hoping to see them return, or to hear their voices. But no. The wind, the rain on the leaves, the distant rumble of thunder. The world felt big, and the woods a maw, an open mouth waiting.

Stop it. Pull yourself together.

There was no garage, just covered parking. The lower level was built into the natural slope of the property. The basement was finished with a comfortable bedroom and a game room.

So the electrical box and the generator had to be on the far side of the house. She moved down the slope on which the house was built, edging by the deck, feet slipping beneath her. But she kept her balance.

A fire pit surrounded by chairs sat empty waiting for light and laughter, s’mores, hot drinks. The weekend wasn’t going to go like that, Mako’s vision for it shattered.

No matter what happened next—power restored, road cleared, Liza and Mako making up, a good explanation for everything—they were out of here as soon as possible. She kept flashing on the look on Bruce’s face, his disdain, his—anger. Yes, it was anger. How had she not seen it before? And why had he never talked to her about his feelings?

Something moved in the trees and Hannah froze.

“Bruce?”

She flashed her beam around, catching wet green leaves and dark empty spaces. Had she even seen a form moving through the trees before? It seemed like a dream now. How quickly you could doubt your own eyes.

Another shuffle, something small—just an animal. A bunny or a squirrel, right?

Hannah was no girly-girl. She was tough; she was handy. Her mother had taught her how to change a tire, replace a circuit, unclog a drain.

There’s no waiting around for Prince Charming, Sophia always said. He ain’t coming. Even if he looks like a hero at first, he’ll still turn out to be more little boy than man.

Hannah cast the flashlight beam into the woods again, around her in a wide circle, heart thumping. Nothing. She was alone.

When you’re going through hell, keep going, another Sophia-ism. Her mom was a piece of work but she was right about a lot of things.