Chapter Seventeen #3
I walk back over to the basement’s open door and I’m about to take the first step downstairs before I stop myself once again with a frustrated sigh.
Remembering how the blackness swallowed up everything, I can’t push back the rising terror of being trapped with no light.
I don’t actually know how much life is left in the one flashlight I have but assuming it’s old, probably not a lot.
Having enough light could be the difference between life and death down there.
Or at the bare minimum, something that will help me hold onto my sanity.
Once again, I’m faced with the idea of going out to the shed, but this time, for more of the flashlights I saw out there.
I sigh in resignation. Even though the last thing I want to do is go back out to the shed, I owe it to myself and to Luke to be as prepared as possible.
He's counting on me. Plus, I would have the chance to grab the map and hopefully up my chances of making it to the tower. I try to focus on the hope as I feel myself forcing my own hand but mostly… I’m terrified.
One more big risk before I leave. I don’t want to, but I’m going back out to the shed.
It’s so close. I can make it, I think, as I turn around and drop my bag. “Fuck it.”
_____
I walk to each window, checking the property for signs of that thing.
I already know, though, that if it doesn’t want to be seen, it won’t be.
I scan the tree line and let myself be momentarily comforted when I don’t see anything.
I take a deep breath, forcing myself to walk to the front door and open it.
I keep my eyes peeled as I quietly sneak around the house.
I hate that I can’t see the shed from the front door.
The anticipation of what could be around the corner fills me with dread.
I hold my breath as I peek around the cabin, relieved when I see the yard is empty.
I don’t hesitate, taking my chance and running the rest of the way to the shed.
I burst inside, going straight for the shelf with the flashlights and grab the box, pulling different ones out.
When I try to turn the first flashlight on, it doesn’t work, so I throw it to the side before grabbing another.
I start to panic when the second one doesn’t turn on.
Finally, the last one lights up. “Thank god,” I say under my breath.
My head snaps up when I hear something start scratching the back of the shed.
It’s breathing heavily and fast. I look up at the open door, my panic surging as I rush over and pull the door shut, locking myself inside.
I fall as I stumble backwards. My breath is racing as I look side to side, searching for any way the creature could get in that I might be overlooking.
Then the banging starts, the walls shaking from the impact.
“Help! Help! Help!” It screams repeatedly; its voice is shrill and ear piercingly loud.
It slams against the sides of the shed as it moves closer to the door.
I see its shadow eclipse the light coming from underneath.
“Mommy, let me in. I’m scared.” Its voice seamlessly changes from something inhuman to that of a child.
I cover my ears with my hands, trying to block out the horrifying crying and screaming.
It scratches at the door; the wood sounds like it's going to split in two. I don’t know how long the door is going to hold, so I jump up, shoving my new flashlight into my pocket.
When I look back toward the door one last time, I see a kitchen knife sitting on one of the shelves.
My heart skips a beat at my good luck. I lunge forward and grab the knife before backing as far away from the door as I can.
I don’t stop until my lower back hits the table at the other end of the room.
The impact startles me at first, but then I jump into action.
I turn around, frantically looking through the various papers on the table.
Gasping with relief as I see the map with the red circle.
I grab it and shove it into my pocket–another crumpled map it is.
I look up at the window. It’s my only chance.
I climb onto the table. It’s now or never.
Without giving into the hesitation I feel, I open the window and throw the knife out and then stick my arms out after it.
Once I get my head and upper body through, I use my arms to pull, push and wiggle myself out before gravity takes over and I fall the rest of the way to the ground.
I tuck my body as fast as I can, so I land on my back and not my head.
The impact with the ground knocks the air from my lungs, but I only let myself lay for a second before I push myself up onto my feet and grab the knife.
As I start looking around, I notice how scarily silent it’s become.
I try to match how quiet it is as I sneak around the shed.
When I look toward the cabin, I see the space from here to the front door is clear.
I take a step forward before glancing back toward the front of the shed where the wood is hanging off the structure in ribbons.
A voice in my head says, “Don’t run. Don’t look back,” just as I hear a twig snap from behind the shed. I let out a shaky breath, holding tight to the knife in my hand as I turn back around and take another slow step forward.