The Cabin
Chapter 1
by Mr. Nobody
The road through the woods was rougher than Paul remembered it. The SUV bounced over rises and into wide, but mercifully shallow potholes, with the result that he, Sherry and Mikey were jostled and thrown against their harnesses without mercy. Of them all, only the boy seemed to be having a good time.
‘I thought you said your uncle really looked after this place?’ Sherry complained. ‘If the cabin’s anything like this “road”…’
Paul kept his faint, fake smile plastered to his lips, but said nothing. In truth, he shared the same fears. He remembered Uncle Dave taking a lot of pride in keeping everything just so. Paul had even helped out on occasion, during those long summers when his mom had sent him to New England so she could take a break from being a lone parent and breadwinner. Whatever had been the case then, there didn’t seem to be an awful lot of pride on display now.
It came as a surprise, then, when they rounded the final bend and saw the cabin and outbuildings laid out before them. No one would have guessed they’d stood empty for the best part of two years. At least from the outside.
Paul pulled into the large, doorless garage and came to a stop. With the engine off, the only sounds through the open windows were the susurration of wind through the trees, some hesitant birdsong, and the sound of water lapping against the lake shore.
‘Listen to that. Beautiful, isn’t it?’ he said, turning to Sherry and smiling.
‘Sure is, Dad,’ Mikey said, unclipping his seatbelt and bouncing out the door. ‘Holy ****! I mean, wow!’
Sherry didn’t smile back. ‘Yeah. Wow,’ she said, getting out. ‘Come on, kiddo. Let’s see what it’s like inside before we get all carried away.’
Paul sighed. It had been a long and difficult journey, and he knew Sherry didn’t travel well. Add in her displeasure at some of the ‘lake cabin’ stories Paul had told Mikey along the way and it was little wonder she was in a foul mood. He hoped it’d pass.
Inside, the cabin was more or less as Paul remembered it: large living area, kitchenette with a window looking out onto the garage, front windows overlooked the lake, hallway to the right. The only difference was the air smelled damp and stuffy.
‘Bedrooms and bathroom are down the hall. Big one’s ours, Mike.’
‘Cool!’ the boy said, hurrying away to check out his new room.
Sherry was checking out a couple of shelves half-full of books; thrillers, true crime, some horror, none of them new. Most of them were mildewed or completely rotten.
‘Please don’t tell me we really have to stay here,’ she said, so he said nothing. ‘That’s what I thought,’ she muttered, and followed Mikey down the short hall.
*
Several hours later, Paul stood out on the front deck, a mug of coffee in his hand, gazing out at the lake. The books, seat covers, curtains and most of the bedding now lay in a heap behind the house, replaced in a whirlwind of activity that carried the name Sherry Holt.
It was a shame she didn’t like it. He had hoped she might, at least once she was here. Maybe she was too much of a city girl at heart.
He shook his head. Tough. The cabin was their home now. It had to be. Lay-offs from the best-paying place in the state and an already overstretched set of finances did not good bedfellows make. Selling up and moving on had been the only option, and since Paul had inherited the cabin after Uncle Dave’s disappearance…
He sipped his coffee and tried to think of something else.
A dog started yapping on the far side of the lake, the sound carrying clear across the water, high and increasingly excited before cutting out.
‘It’s just the wendigo, boy,’ Paul muttered, smiling. ‘Or maybe it’s Old Sam Whatever, who drowned his wife and boy in the middle of the lake. Could even be –’
Rough barking and a howl cut him off. What the hell had that been? It had sounded like…
‘A wolf? Here?’
Farther into the surrounding forest, sure, but…here? And wolves didn't bark...did they?
The howling started again. It still sounded some distance off but Paul could have sworn it was closer. Too close.
When the wolf howled for a third time, closer still, he ditched the remaining coffee and headed indoors. He made sure to lock and bar the door behind him.