Raven's Peak (22 page)

“Owl Cabin? That’s…strange.”

“I didn’t come up with the name.”

“I suppose it’s better than ‘Sturgeon Hangout,” Haatim offered. “The other one was probably where the woman and her kid were staying.”

“What woman?”

“A tourist I met back at the store. She couldn’t stand being out here in the woods and bailed on the cabin three nights early. Seemed like a city kind of girl. I think they checked into a motel earlier and are leaving tomorrow.”

“A motel? Seems like a downgrade if you ask me.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

“Did she say anything strange happened?”

“No,” he replied. “She just said her kid went wandering out in the woods, and she didn’t want him to get lost or something.”

“All right. We can stop by and talk to her on our way out of town tomorrow, if you think it’ll do any good.”

“What about the college kids? Should we check on them now or wait until the morning?”

“Let’s talk to them now. We should at least make sure they are doing all right. Just knock on the door.”

Haatim nodded in agreement. They sat in the car, staring at the cabin, and a long minute passed. He glanced over at Abigail and saw her staring at him.

“Well?” she asked. “Go on.”

“Wait, you want
me
to do it?”

“Yep.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Because, like the townsfolk, I don’t like spoiled college kids very much. They seem more like your kind of thing, and I’m sure you’ll hit it right off. I’d rather just wait in the car.”

“What if something
is
wrong with them, though? What if they’re being attacked or something?”

“Then I’ll be right here to watch your back, ready to come rescue you at a moment’s notice,” she said. Then she smirked and added: “Again.”

He stared at her and knew that if looks could kill he’d be doing some serious damage right about now. “Not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

He sighed and opened the door. “Fine, I’ll go.”

He walked up onto the porch and to the front door. It was oak and quite beautiful with designs carved into it. He knocked lightly and listened. He waited for a moment without getting a response and then glanced back at the road. Abigail was still in the passenger seat, yawning.

She gestured her hand toward him with a knocking motion and mouthed the words “
knock louder.”

“Yeah, you rescued me. But, I wouldn’t have needed rescuing if you weren’t a crazy person with demons chasing you,” he muttered, knocking again. He waited, and then knocked louder still, but there was still no response.

He headed back to the Chevy just as Abigail was climbing out. She said: “If they are drunk and passed out inside, so help me…”

“What do we do now?”

“Wait here.”

She walked up onto the porch and wandered along the wooden walkway on the outside. A patio ran across the front, about three meters wide. Abigail glanced in the windows, and Haatim waited next to the car. After a few minutes she waved for him to come up.

“I don’t see anyone,” she said. Her entire demeanor had changed, and the joking side of her was gone. Now, she was all business.

“You think they are missing?”

“It’s a possibility,” she said. “I’m going to check it out.”

“Want me to wait out here?”

“I want you to stick close to me,” she said. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with, and until we know I don’t want you out of my sight. I don’t want to come back to find your dead body.”

He felt his pulse quicken. She said so nonchalantly, like she was talking about inconvenient weather.

Abigail walked to the doorway, her revolver appearing in her hand and a frown on her face. She knocked a few times, and Haatim waited near the window. Nothing happened.

It was quiet. She tested the doorknob and found it to be locked. She knelt down, pulling small metal tools out of her pocket, and after a few seconds he heard the lock click.

“Count to thirty and then follow me,” she said.

With one last glance at Haatim, she stepped into the living room. He watched through the window as she moved silently through the foyer, past the garbage on the floor, and into the dining room. Furniture was scattered, and a large oak table was covered with half-finished food and wrappers.

Abigail made it to the doorway of the living room and rounded the bend, disappearing from his sight. Haatim finished counting and then walked into the foyer behind her. The music was loud and spilling out of a pair of speakers along the right wall. They were cranked up to the max, and the music was cracking every few notes.

Haatim stepped gingerly across the dining room floor, dodging furniture and trash, and clicked the power button on the radio. The sound cut out, leaving him in a jarring silence.

A moment passed, but he couldn’t hear anything from farther into the cabin. “Find anything?”

No response. He walked slowly toward the door leading to the living room, straining to hear. The place was eerily quiet, and he could feel the hairs standing up on the back of his neck. Something was wrong. As he got closer he could smell a sweet metallic scent wafting out of the living room, like copper. He peeked around the corner and—

“Haatim.”

He screamed. The voice came from behind him. He scrambled forward and sideways, tripping and falling into the doorjamb. He saw behind him at the entrance of the cabin; Abigail was standing there, frowning at him.

“Where…where did you come from?”

“I went out the back and checked the perimeter,” she said. “They are all dead.”

“All of them?”

She shook her head. “Five bodies, but the cop back in town said six of them came out here together.”

“What is that smell?”

He started to turn, trying to locate the strange scent. He felt a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back, but not before he caught a glimpse of what was in the living room.

Bodies, splayed out and with terrified looks on their faces. They were drenched in blood, though most of it looked dry and caked to their clothes and skin. One had his stomach cut open and his intestines were strewn across the floor, and another’s arms had been removed and laid across his stomach.

The image burned into his memory, even with only a second’s glance. He looked away in horror and saw Abigail standing next to him, a concerned expression on his face.

“Don’t look in there,” she said.

“Too late,” he replied. He felt light-headed and sick and started to wobble. He’d thought the decomposing corpse at the warehouse was the worst thing he would ever see in his life; he’d been wrong.

He put his hands on his knees and took deep breaths, swallowing down bile.

“Need to vomit?”

He didn’t reply, just kept breathing. The image…the blood…

The smell
, he realized:
that is
the smell of their blood.

Haatim ran back outside, leaned over the railing, and threw up.

Abigail followed casually and leaned against the railing next to him. “Guess so,” she said.

“Oh, God,” he muttered. “I’ll never be able to eat again.”

“Is that so?”

He nodded. “Never.”

They stood in silence for a minute, breathing in the cool night air.

“Happened a few hours ago,” she said finally, after giving him some time to recover.

“You said one of them wasn’t here.”

“No, the sixth is missing.”

“You think he left?”

“Maybe,” she said. “But I don’t know if he was heading to town or somewhere else. It’s too late to track him down tonight, so we’ll have to wait until morning.”

“Do you think he killed them?”

She hesitated. “I don’t know. It’s pretty terrible in there, so I’m guessing something supernatural was involved.”

“That’s awful.”

“I know,” she said. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“It isn’t your fault.”

She shrugged. “Let’s hope your father sees it that way.”

“What do we do now?” he asked. “Should we head back to town to get a motel room?”

“Too long of a drive,” she said. “Plus, why bother heading back when we have perfectly good accommodations right here?”

Haatim looked back at the cabin he’d just fled out of, feeling a lump in his throat. Abigail chuckled.

“No, not that one. The other cabin. The one you said the woman had rented. Grab the stuff from the car, and I’ll get the door open.”

Haatim did as he was told, grabbing the bags of food out of the backseat and carrying them over to the other cabin. By the time he was there, Abigail had the door open and the fireplace turned on. It was a gas fire with fake logs, but the warmth felt amazing.

This cabin was considerably cleaner than the last, neat and tidy. They checked over the rooms to make sure everything was in order before finally settling into the living room to relax. Haatim sat on the couch and watched the fire, trying to push the image of the blood and corpses out of his mind.

“You all right?” Abigail asked. She was sitting on the other couch, studying him.

“What? Yeah,” he said. “I’m OK.”

“You sure?”

He was silent for a long moment. “I don’t know,” he said.

She nodded. “Things like this, they take a long time to get used to. I’m surprised you’re holding up as well as you are.”

“Am I?” he said.

“The first time I saw a dead body, I cried for a week,” she replied. “I was seven at the time, but I don’t think that matters too much. Death is death. You’ve seen a lot of it today, and the fact that you aren’t a heap of emotions on the floor means you’re doing pretty well.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, and then Haatim started to feel hungry. His stomach growled, and he heard Abigail chuckle.

“Never going to eat again, huh?”

“Maybe that
was
a little dramatic,” he agreed.

“Want me to fix something to eat?”

“No,” he said. “I’ll get it.”

He went to the kitchen and started pulling supplies out of the plastic bags. He poured some canned beans into a bowl and tossed it into the microwave, then started making sandwiches.

“Shouldn’t we tell the police?” he asked. “You know, about the dead college kids.”

“We will,” she replied. “But not until we are long gone and can call from a payphone. I’d rather be able to finish my work without having locals breathing down my neck.”

“Makes sense,” he said.

“Plus,” she added. “How are we supposed to explain
this
? We stumbled across a cabin in the woods filled with dead twenty-something kids? Most of the time when people find something like this, they’re usually the cause of it.”

Haatim finished heating the food up and made them both a plate. “So, we just stay here tonight? And then what?”

“Tomorrow we find out what happened and whether or not their missing friend did this or if he’s a victim, too.”

“You think their friend could have done something like this?”

“The wounds were caused by a short serrated knife, and there were a lot of them. They were also imprecise and full of hesitation, so it wasn’t a professional.”

“Do you think he might have been possessed?”

“Demons don’t usually hesitate when they are killing people.”

“So you think he just snapped?”

“Maybe,” she said. “But, it isn’t likely that someone just
snapped
and did this, which means I’m thinking something provoked him. I’m just not quite ready to say it was a demon yet. There are several things that could trigger something like this.”

“What if he comes back tonight?”

“Then we won’t have to go out looking for him, will we?”

Haatim thought to object again and then changed his mind. He walked back over to the couches and handed a plate to Abigail, then started eating. He was starving, though he’d barely noticed until he actually had food in front of him. After all of the excitement from the last couple of days, he still felt entirely out of sorts, and his body was taking a while to catch back up.

It wasn’t until he’d devoured half of his food that he noticed Abigail was watching him. He froze, mouth full, and then chewed slowly. She smiled and shook her head.

“Hungry?”

“I guess so,” he said.

“And here I thought those dead bodies would steal your appetite.”

The thought of the blood and corpses made his stomach twist. Haatim set his plate on the table. “Not hungry anymore.”

“Good,” she said. “Don’t need you with a stomach ache.”

“Funny,” he said.

“I’m going to get some sleep. It looks like there are two rooms upstairs, so I’ll take the one on the left.”

“OK.”

She finished eating, set her plate on the table, and then headed for the staircase leading up to the second floor. She paused at the landing and glanced back at Haatim.

“Get some sleep, because I expect you to be ready to go when I knock on your door in the morning. We’re going to have a really long day.”

Despite what she’d said to Haatim, Abigail was barely able to sleep that night. She lay awake, thinking about her lapses in judgment over the last couple of days with Haatim, Delaphene, and the demon that was holding Arthur.

If the Council found out she’d gone to visit Sara without their permission they would be furious, and no doubt they would be able to find their way back to Delaphene who was still locked in her cabin in Colorado. She had to hope that if they did find Delaphene they would destroy her and send her back to hell before asking any unsavory questions.

But that didn’t concern her nearly as much as her interactions with Haatim. She knew Frieda would be furious when she found out everything Abigail had told him regarding the Council and his father, but worse were the things she’d told him about herself.

She considered herself guarded and never talked about personal details, yet she’d told him about Arthur, her fears, and other details of her life she never told anyone before.

After her possession six months earlier, Frieda had slowly distanced herself from Abigail. It wasn’t necessarily that Frieda didn’t trust her, it was just that Abigail had become damaged goods. No one else on the Council had any faith in Abigail, and that put Frieda in an awkward position: backing Abigail meant losing credibility.