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“Could be a forest animal.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
They waited a minute. When nothing else made noise, they continued on.
Hairs on the back of Damon’s neck stood. Someone — or something — was watching them.
“Do you feel that?” Charles asked.
Damon nodded.
“If Lia wasn’t out here, I’d run for my car.”
“She is though, and we need to find them.”
They waited.
Damon relaxed. “I think whatever it was moved on. Probably an animal.”
“This is too much. I write about things like this happening to other people. I don’t like being part of the script.”
“This isn’t a movie.” Damon continued on, his mouth parched from nerves.
He stopped.
Charles bumped into him. “What gives?”
“I think we found a cabin.”
A small structure stood in a clearing. It was hard to make out any details with darkness settling in. But it was definitely a building.
The road wound away from it in the opposite direction.
Damon gestured for Charles to follow. They moved aside branches and squeezed between bushes until they stood in the clearing.
The cabin couldn’t have had more than two or three rooms. Moss grew up the walls and covered the roof.
Charles snapped a picture.
Damon hurried over to the building. The one window was covered with old newspapers. No way to see inside. He went around another covered window.
One on each side of the cabin. No way to look in.
He circled back around to the door. Twisted the knob.
Locked. No surprise.
Charles turned to him. “Should we break in?”
“Not yet.”
“Why are we here then?”
“We don’t even know if this is the right cabin.”
“You think there are others farther down?”
“It’s possible,” Damon said. “We should also figure out where the others are.”
