Page 51 of When the Silence Breaks

If anyone had followed, this would be nothing more than a trap.

But at the moment, honestly, she didn’t care. She craved warmth and shelter, and maybe she craved those things more than the answers she’d been so desperate to find.

Twenty

Ryder tried the knob. The place was locked up, and it wasn’t like he carried that key around with him, though maybe he should have had a plan B. He didn’t want to kick the door in, so he pulled out his knife and worked the lock until the mechanism released. At least he hadn’t broken the frame or the door, which surprised him since the wood was old. But it was solid.

Still, the door was warped and didn’t want to budge, so he pushed until it gave way, the hinges protesting like something from a haunted house. A little creepy and not the welcome he was looking for. The smell hit his nostrils—mustiness and old smoke and, unfortunately, mold. The beam of his flashlight revealed dust motes dancing around, disturbed by his entrance.

Sarah followed him inside. “What is this place?”

“It was built generations ago by my family. It’s private land, but it’s surrounded by Forest Service property. Grandpa and Dad brought us up here to hunt and fish.”

He continued shining the light around the one-room cabin. A potbellied stove sat near the wall on the opposite side, the stovepipe reaching up to the rafters and through the roof. Mildew grew on the walls in places, and cobwebs draped the corners. Wonderful.

Sarah shined her flashlight on the rickety cots against the wall, both holding sunken mattresses. Wool blankets were folded but eaten through in spots. Ryder clomped forward, shining his light on the floor to make sure it remained sturdy, then lifted the beam to illuminate the old plank table Grandpa had built out of a tree. Ryder had admired it so much as a kid. Shelves were lined with dusty jars and old camping enamelware. He moved closer to examine the contents and lifted a couple of cans of beans—had to be spoiled by now.

Sarah joined him at the shelf. “I’m stating the obvious, but it looks like no one has been here in years.”

“I haven’t been here since I was a teenager.” Warm and bittersweet memories flooded him. “At least there’s an old woodstove in the corner. I’ll see if I can find dried wood we can use for a fire.” Heating this place up was a priority.

“The stove’s safe?” she asked. “It won’t burn down the cabin?”

Ryder moved to the stove and looked it over. He’d do his best to make sure it was fire-worthy and safe, but he could make no promises. “I can’t be sure of anything. You want to stay here, or would you like to sleep outside?”

Something scurried in the shadows, and Sarah stepped closer to Ryder. He smiled to himself, grabbed the old kerosene lamp off the hook, and set it on the table, though he doubted it would work. Kerosene didn’t last forever. With a flick of the lighter from his pack, the wick barely sputtered before catching, then the flame danced to life, casting a warm, flickering glow.

“What can I do to help?”

“I’m going outside to look for kindling and wood. You can dig in the backpack and find what we can use tonight.”

“You’re leaving me alone with the critters, then.”

He hitched a grin. “You want me to stay here? You could go outside and face those critters while gathering firewood.”

She leaned her head back with an exaggerated nod. “I see what you’re doing here. No, thanks. I’ll face off with whatever varmints might protest my presence. I think I’m the scariest thing in the cabin.”

“You make a good point. One which I won’t argue.” He made sure to leave her with his smile so she knew he was teasing and trudged outside. He was glad for the levity. After the day they’d had, they needed a break from the intensity and the fear.

He didn’t wait for her response and stepped out onto the porch, relieved he’d found this old place filled with memories, but this had been a detour—aforceddetour—in their plans. He hadn’t heard back from Holt, but his brother could be in the middle of an operation. Still, he’d trust Holt to have his back, and it wasn’t like Ryder had asked for a response. He simply informed him they had hostiles on their tail.

He stomped around to the side of the cabin and found what was left of the wood pile. He sent up a silent prayer of thanks that someone had been here in recent years, and so the pile hadn’t completely rotted—quite a few good logs had been stacked for someone’s use. Maybe one of the local rangers had done it—this property wasn’t Forest Service land, but still, if someone got lost and needed a safe place, the cabin was here for their benefit.

After searching through the pile, he picked the best pieces and shook them out to get rid of the spiders, snakes, or rats, then stacked logs until he had at least a half cord, which he then hauled to the porch and set by the door. He went back into the woods near the cabin in search of kindling on the forest floor and snatched up dead branches he could use for the fire,working until he completed the task. Then ... for a moment ... he turned off his flashlight.

Listened to the night sounds.

Here, in this small valley protected by forest, the wind wasn’t as harsh or as cold, and nature’s threat diminished compared to the higher elevation, where one would receive the brunt of it all. Still, a growing threat remained—whoever had been following them was still out there. With the sniper graze on his shoulder, he couldn’t help but feel that shot had been a warning. Then again, the wind could have played a role in the course the bullet had taken. Knocking it off a few millimeters could have saved his life.

He carried the branches and kindling up onto the porch, and before he reached the door, it opened wide as Sarah waved him inside. She gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. But he got it. This wasn’t a great position to be in. An old, dilapidated cabin with critters crawling around inside. He clomped over to the stove with the kindling, then retrieved the cord of firewood he’d stacked by the door and piled it near the stove as well.

He stood and caught his breath. Sarah had lit another kerosene lamp that shed better light. A newer Coleman, in fact. She hadn’t used their collapsible LED lantern from the pack—might as well save that. Someonehadbeen here recently, but they hadn’t stayed long enough to make any real improvements. Still, that was part of the thinking behind why his family had left the place—for anyone who might get trapped up here and need shelter. At the moment, that irony wasn’t lost on him. He’d had to break in but understood the reason behind keeping it locked. In these mountains, a door left unsecured invited trouble like vandalism or worse, and if the latch failed, a bear might destroy the place or make it its home.

“You packed everything we would need,” she said. “Almost like you knew we wouldn’t be back to base camp.”

His shoulder pain suddenly spiked with the reminder that danger was chasing them. “Always keep what’s needed to survive with you, even the bare minimum.” He focused on getting the woodstove going to chase away the chill, hoping the stovepipe chimney wasn’t filled with bats or some other creatures that would cause a problem. With any luck, they could even boil water and warm their food on the woodstove.

“Let’s get settled,” he said. “Eat something. And then we can look at what we found in the cave.”