Nine #4
I didn’t like the look of the rickety, sagging steps up front or the giant cobwebs hanging from the lopsided edge of the roof.
Graffiti tags covered the front, so it seemed like the town’s teen vandals already had found it.
It looked like the set of Halloween Slashers III: Stabby-Stabby, We’re All So Dead.
“This looks like where Leatherface spends his summers,” I muttered.
Jude rolled to a stop, put the car in park, and turned off the ignition.
“It’s not that bad,” Jude said. “Besides, Leatherface probably prefers swim-up bars in Mexico. He’s got to be an umbrella-drink man.”
The idea of Leatherface in a Speedo with a salt-rimmed margarita made me crack up as Jude flung open his door and stepped out. I followed, still wary, as I glanced at my phone. No bars. Perfect.
“Even so, why don’t you go up first to ring the bell,” I told Jude, because no way was I getting near that shack, the birthplace of tetanus.
“Suit yourself.” I watched Jude maneuver up the uneven steps, avoiding the rusted nail sticking out of one of them and the almost disintegrated welcome mat as he leaned in and pressed the doorbell.
Which I was almost positive didn’t work.
I hated this cabin. Maybe it was the broken windows, or the cobwebs hanging down from the corner of the door being batted about by the delicate breeze.
Spray paint covered half the building. Was that a red pentagram? I shivered.
I kept glancing at the line of trees around us. I felt like I was being watched. But that was probably just my active imagination—Mom’s hysteria that Oscar accused me of having. Still, the hairs on the back of my neck quivered.
After a beat, Jude knocked hard on the door and waited.
“He cannot be living here,” I reiterated. I eyed the rusted lawn chair near me, whose seat had been frayed so hard in the weather, it hung down from the frame in ragged strips. This place gave me the creeps. “Even Phylicia couldn’t sell this place.”
“I’ll go around back, just to see,” Jude offered, because he was never superstitious about anything and had no fear.
“Are you trying to get hacked to death by Leatherface?”
“He’s in Cancun,” Jude called back, even as he trotted down the steps and bounded by an overgrown hedge to get to the back.
I stood, glaring at my phone and its zero bars. I also realized Jude had taken the keys with him. I heard Russo’s voice in my head. You can’t trust anyone, kid.
Then I almost laughed out loud. Jude couldn’t hurt a fly.
In fact, he once stopped traffic—on both sides of a road—so a skunk could safely cross the street.
Then again, I imagined what Russo might say to me right now that I found myself at a remote murder cabin in the woods when the Canceled Killer was on the loose.
Not my smartest move.
I stepped backward into the crunch of fallen leaves, and my sneaker felt something hard in the ground. I glanced down at the golden leaves, and saw the tips of pale, tiny fingers. I sucked in a breath and toed off the leaves covering it.
The sun shone on a severed baby doll’s arm.
Probably left over from some kid who came to Camp Lake Sanguis back in the early 2000s.
Nope. Uh-uh.
I kicked it away with a shiver, and it went skittering into the leaves.
I glanced down to the patch of dirt where it had been and saw the glint of something metal.
I hunched down and picked it up and found a tarnished silver necklace, with a small cursive O on a chain.
Odd. It was slightly tarnished, but I wondered if it was sterling and could be cleaned up.
Maybe Olivia might want it. I snapped a picture of it, and then sent it to Olivia, except there were no bars out here, so the picture didn’t send.
No bars.
Not good.
“Jude?” I called out as I stuffed the necklace into my pocket.
No answer. I glanced at the murder cabin again. Two of its windows were broken. Dank darkness leaked out of them from inside. Why did I get the impression something bad had happened in there? And something worse could happen yet?
I looked at my phone. Still no bars.
A flash of movement at one of the windows caught my attention. What the…? Had Jude snuck around the back of the cabin and gone in?
“Jude! I swear, if you’re playing a prank on me…” My voice sounded high and squeaky.
Another shadow darted behind the window. Something was in there. Heart hammering, I moved closer to the cabin to get a better look. I stepped on the first porch step, and the rotten wood creaked beneath my feet. I peered at the broken window again. Something—or someone—was in there.
I hesitated.
“Jude!” Louder this time. More annoyed. A current of unease in my voice. Why wasn’t he answering me?
I took another step forward, up the second step. Another quick dart of movement. I hadn’t imagined it.
I held my breath. I grabbed the rusted handle of the doorknob. Now or never…
A crow flew out of the broken window, straight at me.
I sprang back, hands up in a defensive position, and stumbled backward off the porch, half-falling down the porch steps. My arms wheeled as I struggled to regain my balance.
Too late, I heard the crunch of a single footstep in the fallen leaves behind me. That’s when I bumped into a solid wall of flesh. A pair of strong arms reached out and snatched me.
I didn’t even have time to scream.