33. Epilogue II
33
EPILOGUE II
ALYSSA
“How is it?” I asked, looking at the image of my friend on my laptop screen and trying to sound excited for her. Actually, I was excited for Sierra. It meant so much to her to write a screenplay with strong female characters. With women who stood up for themselves and weren’t just arm candy or a damsel in distress. But I still couldn’t believe that she liked being holed up in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, all alone.
“It’s amazing,” Sierra gushed. “Better than I ever imagined. It’s so quiet here, it feels like I can finally hear myself think. I never could in Los Angeles.” She really did look relaxed. Her gorgeous, wavy hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she was wearing a sweatshirt. Normally, she looked like she was ready for Fashion Week in Paris.
“It sounds perfect for you.” Of course, what was perfect for her sounded like my own personal nightmare, but I didn’t have to worry about being isolated like that ever again. I lived in a home with my family, which included three amazing men, two wonderful kids, and a woman who served as a grandparent to all of us right next door.
“It is. I get up early and exercise and then write—it’s like the best retreat, only for just one person.”
“Isn’t there anyone else nearby?” She’d told me that the company that rented out the cabins, I’d forgotten the name, had a dozen or so fully-stocked cabins, and that they were mostly used by creative types.
“Yeah, I can see one other cabin, but only because the trees are pretty bare. In the summer, I bet you wouldn’t see it at all.”
“Is it occupied?”
“Yes, I’ve seen some people out there.”
“More than one?”
“There are three of them.” She hesitated. “Three men.”
“Have you met them?”
“No, no one comes here to chat with the neighbors.” She made it sound like I’d suggested that a nun go to a nightclub. “Besides, their cabin is way up the hillside. I can barely see them.”
Something told me she’d paid more attention to the men in that cabin than she was letting on, but maybe I was wrong.
There was a sharp sound and her head whipped around. “Hold on,” she said, and she got up from her desk chair and disappeared from view.
“Sierra? Are you okay?” Fear rose in my chest. That had sounded like a gunshot.
But then she came back. “It’s okay, just another tree branch.”
“Tree branches have guns where you are?”
She laughed. “No, we had this ice storm. It was really weird. The day before yesterday, the temperature rose and it actually rained.”
“In February? In the mountains?”
“I know, right? But then the temperature plummeted, and everything froze very quickly. All the trees are covered in ice, and it’s so heavy that the branches snap right off. It happens about every fifteen minutes.”
“God, how do you sleep?”
“Very well, actually. I swear, I thought that Kylie was exaggerating when she said how refreshing it is to be up in the mountains, but she’s right.”
“Oh great,” I said. “Now there are two of you.”
She laughed. “I know you think you’d go stir-crazy, but I promise, it’s awesome up here. And I’m not completely alone. I’ve actually had a visitor.”
“Who? I thought that was against the rules?”
She gave me a sly grin. “I kind of forgot to mention that the guys in the cabin have a dog.”
“And it came to visit you? That’s so cool. What kind is it?”
“A collie, I think. It’s come by twice now. The second time, I gave it a cookie, so I hope it’ll come back.”
It was ironic—Sierra was so beautiful she could get any man she wanted. Yet who did she want to visit her from the cabin full of men? Their dog.
“Hey, next time it comes by, attach a note to its collar saying that you’re single.”
“Very funny.” Sierra glanced away for a moment.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. I just thought I?—”
The cracking sound was so loud it even hurt my ears. Before I could ask what happened, it was followed by two more. Sierra looked up at the ceiling in alarm and then put her hands up to shield her head.
“Sierra!” I shouted, but it did no good. Wooden beams and plaster rained down on my friend’s head and she dove out of sight. A second later, a huge tree branch landed right where she’d been sitting. “Sierra!”
Branches, leaves, ice, and snow filled the screen. That hadn’t just been a tree branch… I suspected it was the whole damn tree. I called her name again, but then the video cut out.
Shocked, I stared at my screen, but it said the session had ended. Frantically, I hit her number on my phone, but the call wouldn’t go through.
God, what if she was hurt? What if she was trapped?
I had to tell someone, but who? Dammit, what was the name of the company who’d rented her the cabin? Or her agent’s name?
Near tears, I tried to make my brain work and figure out what to do, but I kept coming back to the moment right before the video cut out. There’d been some sound, something in the background. Another tree branch snapping?
No, that hadn’t been it. I closed my eyes and focused on that last second before the transmission ended.
Oh my god, I knew what that sound was. It had just been for half a second, but I’d heard it. A bark. A loud bark—possibly from a large dog.
Like a collie.