Chapter 2
Emersyn
You have to be kidding me. I throw it into reverse, my anger causing a lead foot against the gas. It jerks backwards, and then hangs again, the tires spinning. I put it back in drive and try to send it forward, but I only bury it further in the drift of powdery snow.
I glance around, my heart throbbing in my temple. “Fuck!” I shout at the steering wheel, punching it with the bottom of my fist. I push my hair out of my face, and then force myself to take a deep breath. I squint into the whirling of vicious white flakes, making out what I think might be a cabin about two hundred yards ahead. It’s impossible to tell for sure.
For all I know, it might just be an optical illusion. I sweep up my phone and call Adam once again as I cut the engine and shove the door open. Please answer.
“I’m getting around to come and get you, even if you want a break,” he snaps with greeting. “I’m just waiting on you to tell me where the hell you are.”
“I’m just calling to tell you I’m stuck,” I say, the wind feeling like a blade on my face as I ignore everything he just spat at me. “And I guess I have to walk the rest of the way to the cabin.”
He’s silent.
“Adam?”
“You’re kind of breaking up with the wind.” His annoyed tone lightens. “Did you say you’re stuck and walking now?”
“Yeah.” As my answer leaves my lips, I hear something in the distance—something that sounds a lot like dogs barking. It sends a shockwave of nerves through my shivering body… But at least it’s a sign of life up ahead?
“You said you can see the house, right?”
“I don’t know…” I squint into the snow as I start forward, cradling the phone against my ear. “I think so.” I make out some sort of structure, but it’s almost impossible to tell for sure. “I hear dogs barking though.”
“That’s a good sign,” he sighs, sounding relieved to some degree. “Just tell them you’re stuck. Like I said, I can come and get you if you hurry up and get an address. I still can’t see your location, Em. I’m already getting ready to leave. Most people around here are nice, and they’re going to be understanding with the weather. They might be able to get you unstuck…again, if you hurry.”
“I’m moving as fast as I can,” I exasperate, my hiking boots not warm enough for this kind of trek. “I should’ve put on my insulated boots.”
“Just keep your head down, and you’ll be?—”
“What?”
Silence.
I pull the phone away from my ear, the sound of the dog’s bark growing as the wind dies down for a moment. I look ahead in the break, spotting the two-story log cabin ahead. It’s not nearly as far as I thought, and based on my distance judging skills, it’s only about a hundred yards away.
I sniff hard, my nose already beginning to run. I can make it. I glance down at the phone, and see the call failed pop up on the screen. I let out a sigh as chills run down my spine. I’m alone in this, but it’ll be fine.
Most people are nice. And hopefully these people are the nice kind.
But the thought is hardly comforting as all the reruns of crime shows start playing in my head. My hands shake as I break through the trees, and I hold onto my hood as the wind tries to tear it off. I have no idea what I’m walking into, and as the dog barking grows increasing incessant, I start to grow wearier.
I manage to make it another fifty yards before I can actually make out more details the cabin. It’s not in the best shape, but it’s not run down and abandoned, either. There’s a dog baying, though I can’t pinpoint from where, exactly.
Someone has to be home. They have to feed their dog, right?
With one hand holding my hood, I shield my eyes with the other, and as I do, I think I make out movement on the porch. It’s impossible to see all that well, but for the sake of how cold I am, and how desperate I am to get out of here…
“Hey!” I shout above the blowing snow. “I’m stuck, can you help me?”
There’s no response. Maybe they can’t hear me over the shrill of the wind. Or maybe it was just the dog? I yell out again, my voice cracking with the ache of the brutal cold in my lungs. It was in the fifties back home—which is where I should’ve stayed.
No one answers again, and as my eyes water, I do my best to blink it away. The snow doesn’t seem to be coming down as hard at the moment. I sigh in relief, rehearsing what I’ll say when I reach the porch.
I made a wrong turn, I’m really sorry. Can you help me get unstuck? My boyfriend is on the way. Or is it my ex- boyfriend? Are we even together anymore?
My mind comes to a screeching halt as a loud crack pierces the winter air.
And pain sears through my hand.
I drop my gaze down, seeing my shattered phone… and blood. A lot of blood . Holy shit. Did I… Did I just… Did I just get shot? The wind tears my hood from my head, and I drop the phone into the snow, droplets of crimson staining the white powder as I do. I blink back tears and charge into the trees, cradling my hand as I try to get a grip.
What the hell just happened?
I try to catch my breath as I lean against the tree, my back to the cabin. I turned down the wrong drive, obviously. Obviously, these aren’t the mostly nice people I was hoping for. But still, this has to be a misunderstanding. I’m from Oklahoma. I get the trespasser thing, I do. I get backwoods vigilantes. But seriously, I mean no harm. I’m just stuck. I don’t want to hang out here. I don’t want to steal their shit and sell it for meth.
My eyes drop once again to my bleeding hand, seeing the bullet grazed the inside of my palm. I can’t tell how bad it is right now—and I don’t have time to worry about it. I tuck it up under the bottom of my black coat and squeeze, trying to stop the bleeding and calm my nerves.
Maybe it was an accident. Maybe it was just meant to scare me.
But those thoughts don’t calm the terror pulsing through my veins. I could easily die out here. If the asshole that shot at me doesn’t finish the job, the elements will. My phone is ruined, too. I take a deep breath, gathering the courage to peer around the tree in the direction of the cabin. Finally, I spot someone, and while I can’t make out the details, I can see the rifle in his hands… and a massive dog lunging at the end of a leash.
I swallow hard. Definitely not a nice person.
His white camouflage parka hood and black neck warmer hide his face, and even through the snow, I can tell he’s a big guy. Teeth chattering as the wind whips through the trees, I wrap my arms around myself, trying to ignore the red liquid staining the snow around my legs. I have to be standing in at least six to eight inches of snow—and it’s only going to increase.
I glance back to the porch, where the man still stands, appearing to be scanning the area. My legs feel weak and numb beneath my dark jeans. My hand burns, and I try to think through what I should do. Do I call out again? Do I try to run back to the gate or my truck? Tears slide down my face as I tip my head back, closing my eyes.
Ugh. What do I do?
The dog bays again, the sound now more terrifying than before. I try to breathe, feeling frozen in place. I have to come up with a plan, pronto. I’ve never been so torn in my entire life, and as I lean to look again, I hope I’m not making a stupid mistake.
“My truck is stuck,” I shout again, pleading with him as his head jerks in my direction. A shudder rolls down my spine as the black and tan dog on the porch responds with an even more urgent bay in my direction. “I just made a wrong turn, please help me.”
I sound so fucking stupid.
But still, I wait for the man’s response, and hold my breath as he tucks the rifle under his arm. My gaze follows him as he leans over…
And unsnaps the leash from the dog’s collar.
You have to be kidding me.
A high-pitched whistle follows the wind, and I realize just how bad this is about to be as the dog bounds down the porch steps and into the snow. Will the dog attack? Or just find me? My eyes drift down to the snow, fresh blood smattered across it. A rumble of thunder jars me into motion, and I stumble away, deeper into the woods but in the direction of the road.
Please don’t let me die today. Please.