Still Waters (13 page)

Hannah hurried quickly around the side of the house. She hesitated as she passed the truck. Could she drive partway down to the main road to try to pick up the trail from there? No, she decided. She was safer retracing their steps. She pushed her way through the brambles that marked the trail, and started walking fast, swinging her arms purposefully, trying to ignore the faint sense of unease pressing at her back. Spiderwebs caught at her face and hair, and she brushed them aside with a little shudder. A branch cracked nearby. Hannah jumped and whipped her head around.

Just a raccoon or something. Stop freaking out.
She took a deep breath and hurried a little faster. There was the little creek. It was higher now, the dark green water rushing over the almost submerged rocks. She tried to quell the growing sense that she never should have come into these woods by herself. What if she fell? What if she broke her leg? No one would know where she was….

With her mouth set, Hannah balanced quickly across the creek and stepped onto the muddy far bank. Her sneakers slipped a little on the slick surface, and she reached out automatically, her hand grasping a wet branch, ruffly with lichen. The branch snapped in her hand and with a gasp, she pinwheeled her arms, trying not to fall backward into the water.

She caught herself and scrabbled up the bank, panting.
Made it. Okay, so calm down, Jesus, calm down. Nothing’s out to get you, Han, okay?
The thunder rumbled again and a brisk breeze suddenly lifted her bangs from her sweaty forehead, sending the leaves rustling around her like a thousand whispers. The clouds grew darker, shutting out whatever dim light filtered down through the trees, as if it were already night.

Hannah hurried a little faster.
Okay, the turnoff, the turnoff. Find it fast, get the camera, and get home before the rain starts.
She scanned the trees lined up beside the path. They seemed practically identical, endless trunks and branches. The wind was blowing steadily now, keening high up in the treetops. Goosebumps rose on Hannah’s arms.

Something caught at her hair, and she screamed, grabbing at her head. It was a branch, just a branch, tangled up in her hair. The turnoff. Had she passed it? Gone too far, too deep into the forest? A wave of vertigo swept her briefly. The pine trees seemed to shift suddenly, aligning themselves in rows and columns, as if generated on a computer. Hannah lifted her hand to her forehead, where a clammy film of sweat had broken out.

There it was. The opening—not ten feet away. She’d stumbled
past it.
Calm down.
She forced herself to take a deep breath, and the world straightened itself. She turned down the path and fifteen minutes later, the church came into view. The wind slackened as Hannah stepped into the clearing. The storm held its breath.

The camera was lying right where she’d left it on a corner of the church steps. The gravestones seemed to regard her solemnly as she wove through them, like eyes peering up from the ground. She looked down at Dorcas’s grave. The grass she’d pulled up earlier now sat withered in a heap by its side.

Christ, this place was freaky. What the hell was the old church doing, just sitting in the middle of the woods like this? She pictured the dark interior inside, the rows of pews, the looming altar. The spirit of some old priest—someone who didn’t like strangers poking around …
Stop it. You’re being ridiculous.
Hannah kept her eyes fixed straight ahead.
Almost to the steps. Don’t look up. Don’t look at the church.
If she looked up, she might see the ghost of the old priest staring down from one of the windows, hand grasping the curtain, pulling it back—Hannah looked, her head drawn up as if against her will with her breath already caught in a half sob in her throat. Nothing. No one there. The boarded windows were dark and sightless as they’d been before.

Her heart pounding on unused adrenaline, she grabbed the camera from the steps and slung it around her neck. She forced herself to walk calmly but quickly away from the church.

Once in the safety of the trees, she slowed. Was this the path down to the beach? The second one. Or was it the third one?

The second one. It had that funny twisted branch hanging
down right in front of it. She walked faster, staring straight ahead. Just a few more minutes and she’d see the water. Follow the beach back to Pine House and slip into bed with Colin, all warm and sleeping.

The lake should be just ahead. Hannah strained her eyes but all she could see was more trees. Damn, these woods were deep. She felt like they would never end. A hairpin turn. No lake. Just more woods.
Okay, it’s okay.
Her jaw ached, and she realized she was clenching her teeth. It’s right ahead. You just can’t see it yet.

She walked faster, then a little faster until she was almost running. The camera bounced against her rib cage. She rounded the next turn and stopped short.

A huge wall of rock stood directly in the center of the path. A boulder, actually, she realized after a second, but not one that had recently fallen. It had been there for a long, long time—long enough for thick ribbons of moss to climb up its sides and lichen to sprout in its crevices. The path ran right up to the boulder and then flowed around it like water.

She’d taken the wrong path—that was obvious. She took a deep breath, trying to ignore the band of panic tightening around her chest. Then the wind picked up, moaning through the trees in a disconcertingly human way. The light dimmed and the sky took on a yellowish cast. Hannah turned around. Go back. That was the only thing she could do. Go back and try to retrace her steps. Thunder suddenly boomed overhead. Hannah gasped. A small mewling sound escaped her throat. The sky was black,
utterly black now. She heard the first fat raindrops hitting the dry needles all around her, as if a tiny army were approaching from all directions.

Fear welled up in Hannah’s throat. She scurried beneath the thrashing branches. The wind rose to a shriek as it screamed through the trees and the rain fell faster, knife-sharp drops now that pierced Hannah’s shoulders as if made of glass.

Thunder cracked overhead, an obscene sound, and with her breath coming in gasps, she began to run down the path. The trees flashed by. Her sneakers pounded the soil.
Get out, get out, get out,
her mind chanted like a mantra. The storm and the woods seemed like a huge malevolent entity, swirling around her—something that would not give up until it had her in its grasp.

She ran and ran but the path seemed endless. Damn it, she should be back by now, back to the turnoff by the church. Thunder cracked again and lightning lit the sky in violent blue-white streaks.

Then she heard it. Footsteps somewhere behind her, pounding the ground. Someone was back there. Following her. Someone else was in the woods. Hannah cast a glance back over her shoulder as she ran. Nothing—too dark. Footsteps. Crackling branches. She ran faster, hands outstretched. Her breath whistled in and out of her open mouth. The footsteps still came, closer now, pounding like hers. Whoever it was, they were running too. She slipped, her fingers meeting the muddy ground and scrambled up again and ran on.

Then from behind her someone was shouting. “Wait! Stop!” Fingers touched her back. Hannah turned and looked up into Colin’s wide eyes. He was panting, his shirt only half-buttoned and his hair wet with rain. Rain glistened on his chest and arms. “Jesus, I was calling and calling you.” He breathed heavily for a second, bracing his hands above his knees. “What were you doing, running away like that?”

Hannah blinked. All the color was returning to the world. For the first time, she realized her clothes were soaked through to the skin. Slowly she opened her mouth to answer but at that moment her knees buckled, and she would have fallen to the ground if Colin hadn’t caught her by the arm.

“Careful there.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You’re a mess.”

“I know,” Hannah croaked. His arm felt very strong and warm. She leaned into his shoulder and let her eyes half close. The fear, the overwhelming fear that had propelled her from the church through the woods, drained away. There was only Colin now—solid and real. “You came to find me,” she muttered as he steered them along the path.

“Hell yeah, I came to find you. I wake up to find my girlfriend gone and a huge storm going on outside, you think I’m just going to roll over and go back to sleep? Careful, root.” He guided her to the right. Ahead only a few hundred feet was the road.

Hannah felt her muscles beginning to shake from the damp and exhaustion. “What’s the road doing here?” she mumbled.

Colin rewrapped his arm around her more firmly. “It’s always been here, babe. It doesn’t move around.”

“That’s what you think,” Hannah muttered.

“What?” Colin bent to hear her.

Hannah raised her head and forced her numb lips to articulate. “I came in on the other path, the one from earlier. I had to get my camera before it got rained on.” She held up the sodden Pentax.

Colin nodded, his eyebrows raised. “I thought it might be something like that.” The trees parted and the truck came into sight, parked crookedly at the side of the road. Hannah thought she’d never seen anything so beautiful. Colin steered her toward the passenger door. “Let’s get you home.”

Hannah groaned and hauled herself up into the seat, sinking down on the worn plush. Colin slammed the door on the driver’s side and started the engine, backing around carefully until they were pointed back toward Pine House.

The rain had lessened to a steady shower, and the thunder had moved out of the area. The windshield wipers made a steady
shush-shush,
the headlights cutting two beams into the gray gloom outside. Hannah sat back in the seat, her eyes closed. Her bones seem to have dissolved, leaving her completely limp.
God, what a weird day. And Colin having that freak-out earlier. Were they having some sort of reaction to being alone? Like cabin fever?

“So, do you want to tell me what you were doing, tearing through the woods like that, crying?” Colin’s voice fell calmly on her ears.

Hannah forced her eyelids open. “I don’t know. The church started freaking me out. I kept thinking someone was watching me. And then I went the wrong way to get back and I got scared, like I’d be lost forever, and then I thought someone was chasing me and I completely lost it….” Her voice trailed off, and she let her head fall back on the seat again. “It was so weird. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared before.”

“Someone
was
following you. Me.” Colin stopped the car. Hannah looked around. They were in front of Pine House, which all of a sudden looked very cozy and welcoming with the door partially ajar and a candle burning in the front window where Colin had left it.

Hannah climbed shakily from the truck and walked slowly up the path. She felt like an old, old woman. All her muscles ached, as if someone had been beating her over with a bat. She mounted the steps and crossed the creaky porch. Colin shoved the door open silently. The living room was dim, lit only by the yellow flicker of the candle. Hannah collapsed onto the old couch and leaned her head back on the mashed yellow pillows. She closed her eyes. She felt like it was midnight.

She stared at the darkness behind her eyelids for what seemed like a long time until she felt the touch of wool on her bare, wet shoulders. She opened her eyes. Colin was bending over her, draping a striped blanket around her.

She gathered the folds around her shoulders and gazed up at his face, which was thrown into deep relief by the flickering candlelight. His hair was partially dry, like hers, and standing up
in rough spikes. His blue eyes were crinkled with concern. He sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close and rubbing her arm firmly.

Hannah sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. He laid his head on top of hers. They were quiet for a long time. The only sound in the room was the light tapping of the steady rain against the big windows.

Hannah raised her head. “You saved me, you know.”

Colin smiled down at her. He brushed a strand of damp hair from her forehead. “I did.”

“You knew I was in trouble, and you came for me.” She raised her head to look into his face.

He nodded, a little smile crimping his mouth.

Hannah opened her mouth. She felt the words building up in her throat. Her body was so tired, so warm and limp lying there under the blanket, that she didn’t have the strength to resist. “I needed you.” She couldn’t remember ever having said those words before.

Colin blinked. “You did.” He seemed to be waiting for something.

“I couldn’t get home myself. I needed you.” Her voice was growing stronger now.

Colin nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

A tremulous feeling started in Hannah’s belly. She sat up, throwing off the blanket and turned to face Colin. She took his hands and his long fingers closed immediately around hers.

His eyes searched hers. “Han, I’ve always been here. I think
today is just the first time you’ve ever let me help you.” He smiled suddenly. “Or maybe it’s the first time you’ve needed help. Lucky me.”

“No,” Hannah whispered, holding onto his fingers very tightly. “Lucky me.”

“I don’t think this pie is working out!” Hannah called into the depths of the house. She wiped the back of her hand on her perspiring forehead and gazed dolefully at the pile of cracker crumbs on the counter in front of her. Beside the crumbs sat the blueberries, now washed and ready for their transformation into blueberry pie. Using crushed-up saltines, dug from one of the cabinets, mixed with milk and water seemed like a good idea half an hour ago. But now they were stubbornly refusing to turn into any sort of crust. “And to make a blueberry pie you need a blueberry pie
crust
,” Hannah mumbled to herself. “Otherwise you’ll have blueberry sauce.”

“And I want a blueberry pie, woman,” Colin ordered, coming into the kitchen, damp from the shower, and catching the last portion of her mumbled soliloquy.

“Yeah, and then you can drag me around by my hair, is that right, Grog?” Hannah picked up the rolling pin for the eightieth time.