Shelter
by Amber Averay
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The rain was sheeting down, blinding him, chilling him to the bone. He was soaked through, exhausted – his frustration and adrenaline rush had worn off some time ago and now he was lost, tired, hungry… Cold, wet, grumpy…
He clearly would not be giving that tyre company a good review online! He had them all checked, front ones moved to the back, new ones on the front, and a new spare – just in case. And yet only a few hours later three flats – three! Two hours’ drive from the cabin, with nothing but forest and mountains and intermittent moonlight and shadows – lots of shadows.
Nighttime will be that way, Adam reflected, wishing there were fewer trees and more light. At least Willow was back in the car – though whether it was for her benefit or his he couldn’t be sure. She hated the dark, he hated thunder and lightning – at least in the car she was dry! He envied that right now.
Growling filled the sky, Adam’s muscles clenching in response. Seconds later thunder roared overhead, lightning splitting the night in half. Adam cried out, glad his girlfriend wasn’t here to witness his terror, and waited, shaking violently, until the thunder rumbled into the distance. He might have a few minutes before the next round erupted, which meant he had to move quickly.
Where were all the cabins? The people camping. The crazies who actually liked this rotten weather. Surely there had to be people about! Every other time he made for his parents’ cabin there were people all over the place. Almost made him wonder why they bothered coming up for peace and isolation when the place was crawling with others who had the same thoughts. And yet now – now that he desperately wanted to find someone, anyone – the place was deserted!
He stumbled through the night, slipping, skating, cursing, darting under trees every time thunder exploded above. He realised seeking shelter under a tree was not exactly safe while lightning forked overhead, but to his befuddled mind it was the most secure place he could find.
The night was endless! And so was the damned storm. Adam cursed his romantic soul, his desire to take Willow to a beautiful, secluded place and show her how much he loved her. And, if he admitted it to himself, he’d wanted to perhaps boast a little that his family could afford such luxuries. But if he’d not been such a sentimental fool, such a boastful little prick, he might have avoided this entire mess and been just as lucky in his modest apartment.
Yet it seemed luck was to be on his side after all, or at least a sliver of it. For when the next bolts of lightning sparked in the night, a break in the trees was illuminated and with it, an old building. It was but a flash of sight, but in that moment Adam saw a decrepit old barn. Or a dilapidated cabin. Or was it a…damn, it was a building, whatever its original purpose! And in that brief glance he thought he’d seen an actual roof – or at least most of one – which meant there should be some dry patches in there. A place he could wait out the storm and then tomorrow, when it was light, he would set out again and try to find someone to help.
Despite his sense of urgency Adam’s steps were despondent, and he moved with caution, wanting to avoid getting caught in the open when thunder struck again. Cold, he was so cold, and weighted down with water and misery that he almost couldn’t trust that he would make it to shelter. It seemed too good to be true.
Yet finally – finally – his weary feet led him through the not-quite-shut door, and for a moment he stood in the dry darkness and just breathed air that wasn’t trying to drown him. Relief. He left the swollen door ajar, unable to find the strength to fight its warped shape, and edged deeper into the room.
It smelled funny. Damp and stale and old and…something else. But it was dry, which was all Adam cared about.
Lightning flashed through the cracked, clouded window, spilling murky light into the cabin. Shack. Farm. Whatever. Adam froze, eyes searching the shadows. He thought he’d seen…something.
It’s an old building, fool. There’s all sorts in here.
But another streak of lightning, flickering, faltering, bright and clear, splashed into the room, and the images snatched in those brief moments seared into Adam’s brain, sickening him, stunning him to silence.
‘No, no, no, no…’ He wanted to turn and burst out the door, to hell with the storm and the thunder and lightning and the rain! But his feet inexorably dragged him further inward, toward the bench he’d spotted, and its horrific setting.
His feet squelched in liquid, and a moan escaped his lips. That’s what that other smell was – blood. Lots and lots of blood.
And on the table – Willow’s severed head. Only her head. Where was the rest of her? His thoughts were muddled, his heart thundering, and bile flooded his mouth. He’d seen a body hanging on the far wall – a man’s body, not hers, without head and sliced off at the waist, entrails dripping.
‘Oh God, no!’ He slipped on the blood and fell, tumbling into a mound of dismembered body parts. Some fresh, some not.
A match was struck near the hanging body, the flame a spark of brightness in the otherwise dark place. A voice he vaguely recognised said, ‘You will scream before the night is through, but nobody will hear you.’ A beat. ‘You didn’t hear her, after all.’
Darkness swarmed over Adam, and he lost himself to it.
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