“Hello?” Trevor called out again as he took another few steps. He didn’t like this – something felt strange here, wrong. He was afraid some old man would be waiting in the darkness with a shotgun, praying for the day some punk would try and break into his cabin. But there was something else he was afraid of, something much worse, a deeper fear, like a fear from a long time ago when he was a child – the fear of a monster in the closet, a monster in the darkness, something unimaginable waiting for him.

Trevor took one more step forward and that’s when the back door slammed shut.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Cole, Stella, David, and the others waited on the front porch as the snowstorm scattered snow across the floorboards of the porch.

Cole glanced at both ends of the front porch. What was taking Trevor so long?

Jose hugged his arms, shivering. “Maybe nobody’s here right now. Maybe this is like a summer cabin or something.”

Frank had his back to the cabin as he stood at the edge of the porch in front of the steps; he stared out at the vast field in front of them, the line of dark trees just barely visible through the swirling snow. Frank’s face was as hard as stone as he stared at the trees, he didn’t move a muscle; and finally he answered Jose. “Maybe.”

Needles stood by the railing of the front porch, almost leaning against it, like he didn’t want to be close to this cabin. He stared at the cabin with that same look of terror Cole had seen in his eyes when they were sitting inside Stella’s Suburban.

Frank’s eyes, like little black stones, noticed Needles. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

Needles shook his head in disbelief. “This can’t be right,” he muttered.

Frank was about to ask Needles what the hell he was talking about when the front door of the cabin flew open.

Both Frank and Cole drew their guns and aimed them at the front door, only a split second away from pulling the trigger.

Trevor stood in the doorway, a big smile on his face. “The place is empty.”

Cole lowered his gun and let out a breath. “That’s a good way of getting yourself shot, little brother,” he said.

Frank glared at everyone else. “Come on, let’s get inside.”

Jose walked up behind Stella and pushed her towards the door. “You heard the man, get inside.”

Stella whirled around on Jose. She stared at him with piercing blue eyes – she showed no fear of him. “I can walk by myself.”

Jose took a step back without even realizing it.

Stella turned to David and took one of his hands. “Come on, honey. Let’s get out of the cold.”

After they were all inside the cabin, Cole closed and locked the front door, then he twisted a deadbolt lock shut. He turned and looked around at the cabin, which was really one big room, a living room and a kitchen divided by a half wall and dining room table in between. The hallway led off from near the dining room table to the back door and bedrooms and a bathroom.

The décor was rustic, masculine; it didn’t seem to have a woman’s touch. A couch took up nearly one wall of the living room, a blanket thrown over the back of it. A recliner sat near the couch, closer to the hallway – the two pieces of furniture didn’t match. A large TV occupied the corner closer to one of the front windows; it was the only really modern-looking thing in the whole cabin. Between the TV and couch was the fireplace, cold and gray now, but charred marks suggested a recent fire. A stack of firewood sat on the large stone hearth, an ax leaned against the stone fireplace. Other fireplace tools dangled in a stand on the other side of the fireplace screen. Cole gazed up at the high, vaulted ceiling. He could hear the wind howling through the eaves outside.

Stella and David stood in the middle of the living room on a woven Native American rug that consisted of bright colors and strange designs. The snow dripped off from their shoes and dampened the middle of the rug.

Frank nodded at Stella and David. “Go sit on the couch for now.”

Stella and David did as they were told; they sat down on the couch right next to each other. David took one of Stella’s hands in both of his and they watched the men huddle together in the middle of the living room. Except Needles, he didn’t huddle; he stumbled over to the dining room table and plopped down in a chair like his legs had suddenly gone weak.

Jose hugged his arms. “It’s cold in here, man.” He spotted a thermostat on the wall near the hallway and hurried over to it. He moved the dial and listened for a moment. He heard a slight click. He looked at the others, a big smile on his face as the heat kicked on. “We’ve got electricity here. We got heat.”

Cole looked at Trevor. “How’d you get inside?”

“It was weird. I tried the back door, and at first I thought it was locked. It seemed like it was locked. I was about to leave, but then the door opened.”

“What do you mean, it opened?” Cole asked.

Trevor shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess it must’ve been stuck or something.”

Cole didn’t say anything, but something about the back door being unlocked bothered him. The windows and the front door were locked, but the back door had been left unlocked?

And something else bothered Cole. He stared at the kitchen beyond the dining room table. A refrigerator and some counters took up one side of the kitchen. A sink, stove, and more counters on the other side. A large freezer sat on the floor at the far wall of the kitchen. There were two frying pans on the stove. A few unopened cans of food sat on the counter. A sink full of dishes. Cole nodded at the kitchen. “Look at the kitchen. Somebody was in here not too long ago.”

Frank glanced at Cole, then the kitchen, then back at Cole and Trevor. “You guys check this place out. Make sure no one’s hiding back there.”

Cole and Trevor hurried down the hall. As Trevor went to check out the second bedroom, Cole entered the small bathroom. He saw a tub with the shower curtain drawn shut, toilet, sink, mirror above the sink, small window on the far wall by the toilet, snow piled up on the window sill outside. There were a few small Western pictures hung up on the walls, a threadbare rug on the floor in front of the tub.

Cole caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror: his chiseled face, his short hair which was spikey now from the melting snow glistening in it. But his eyes stopped him, his dark eyes that looked so tired. He just wanted this job to be over. And it would’ve been over by now if Needles hadn’t killed that old man in the bank.

Cole opened up the medicine cabinet. Normal stuff inside: cough medicine, shaving cream, cheap razors and cologne, a stick of deodorant. He reached inside and pulled out a prescription bottle of medicine, some kind of antibiotic. He shook the container, only a few pills rattled around inside. He read the name on the bottle – Tom Gordon.

He set the pills back inside and shut the mirrored door. Cole knew someone lived here, this wasn’t a seasonal cabin or a hunting lodge – this was someone’s home. And that someone had just been here not too long ago. But where was that someone now? Where was Tom Gordon?

Cole looked down at the sink. The faucet dripped water into the basin. He turned the water on for a second, and then turned it off. He turned the handle as hard as he could, but the water still dripped.

Cole left the bathroom and went to check out the other bedroom.

In the living room, Frank stared at Needles who still sat at the dining room table. Needles still had a frightened look in his eyes as he stared around at the cabin in disbelief. Frank pulled out a chair and sat down next to Needles, watching him the whole time. “You okay, Needles?”

Needles didn’t answer Frank.

Frank leaned towards Needles, speaking to him again, his voice sharper, louder. “Needles!”