The Shuddering (13 page)

“Goddamnit, Ry!” Jane was livid, her irritation diluted by the occasional gust of glacial wind.

“We saw the same thing yesterday,” Ryan told Sawyer, “farther down the road.” He looked up, searching around the base of the trees for a carcass.

“Animal?” Sawyer asked, his hands deep within his pockets.

“I guess.” Ryan shrugged. “But where are the remains?”

“Better question,” Sawyer cut in. “What the hell are these tracks?”

Ryan straightened, shaking his head at the strange footprints. “What the fuck?” he said. “These would have had to have been made by something, I don’t know…”

“Pretty damn tall,” Sawyer finished.

The indentations in the snow were distinct. The long, skinny tracks were suggestive of bare feet, but with only four elongated toes leaving deep rifts in the snow. Ryan didn’t like it. From what it looked like, some mutant hillbilly was stalking the woods, killing whatever he could find to sustain himself through the winter. He’d have to keep Oona in the cabin, play it safe, but Oona would go nuts being cooped up like that. He had brought her out here so she could have a good time, and now he had
this
to worry about.

“Maybe someone was hunting,” Sawyer suggested. “Isn’t it some kind of season right now?”

“Turkey, I think,” Ryan told him. “We heard a gunshot yesterday.”

“Well, there you go.” Sawyer dropped his hands to his sides, satisfied with that answer.

“But these tracks…”

“Weird shoes,” Sawyer said.

“Are you kidding?” Ryan shook his head at that. “These aren’t
shoes
, man.”

“No.” Sawyer took a backward step. “Haven’t you seen those highly attractive Five Finger shoes people are wearing these days? Just because they aren’t appropriate for snow doesn’t mean some genius didn’t wear them while hunting wild turkeys with his backwood chums.”

“Really?” Ryan gave Sawyer a skeptical look. “A hillbilly in
Vibrams
?”

“It could have been Bigfoot,” Sawyer said. “It could have been the abominable snowman.”

“You know they have a show about Bigfoot?” Ryan asked, turning away from the tracks and back toward the car. “Like, these guys genuinely believe they’re hunting the damn thing. They think it’s a science.”

“But what if they’re right?”

“What? That Bigfoot exists?”

“Sure.” Sawyer shrugged. “Explain those tracks. Maybe it does. There’s a logical explanation for everything.”

“Yes,” Ryan said. “I agree. Logical. Like hillbillies wearing toe shoes.”

“Or maybe it’s a Realtor wondering what the hell we’re doing in that cabin while the new owner is a state away or something.”

“And they’re hungry.” Ryan grinned. “So they’re hunting wild turkeys near the property, camping in the trees, wondering how to politely ask us to leave.”

The car door slammed shut. Jane was coming for them. Sawyer patted him on the shoulder, encouraging Ryan to head back to the car. It was cold, and they were about to be reprimanded. Ryan stood there for a moment longer, his eyebrows furrowed at the swath of gore, before stepping back onto the muddy road.

“What are you trying to do?” Jane demanded. “You’re an ass, you know that?”

“It’s closer to the house,” Ryan told her. Jane snapped her mouth shut, blinking at the stain her brother had just been inspecting. She rushed behind him as he continued toward the car, crawling back into her seat and slamming the door behind her before he could get around the Nissan’s front end.

They drove the rest of the way in relative silence. But Ryan couldn’t get it out of his head. Something, or some
one
, was out there, and close to the cabin. It made him uncomfortable. It wasn’t safe.

R
yan and Jane had only three balls left on the table—the blue two, the red three, and the burgundy seven—while Lauren and Sawyer had six. Lauren leaned over the table while Ryan lined up a shot, a mischievous smile dancing across her lips. She tugged down on the hem of her T-shirt to distract him, her cleavage perfectly lined up with his shot. Jane chuckled as she picked at a slice of leftover chocolate cake, giving Sawyer a dubious look.

“Your teammate is cheating,” she told him, licking a smear of frosting off a fork tine. “You should both be disqualified.”

“It’s okay,” Ryan said, bending over the table, his chin close to the Kelly green felt. “I’m undistractable.”

“
Undistractable
isn’t a word,” Sawyer told him.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ryan said, pulling back the pool cue before forcing it through his fingers. The cue ball cracked against the red three, forcing it into the corner pocket with a muffled thump against the table’s bumper. He straightened, squared his shoulders, and made an announcement: “They’re only boobs.”

“
Only
,” Lauren snorted, snatching her pool cue from against the wall.

“Once you’ve seen a few dozen pairs,” Ryan teased, “you’ve seen them all. Now, if you don’t mind, take your shot. I’m ready to win this thing.”

Jane took a seat on the leather sofa that flanked the wood-paneled wall, her gaze shifting from the game to the girl at the
couch’s far end. April had been coiled into its corner for the last hour, not saying a word, looking forlorn.

“Oh,
come on
,” Ryan complained, motioning toward Lauren. She was climbing on top of the table, her hair in a wild ponytail, her eyes brimming with determination. “Does someone have a rule book?”

“Shut up, boyo,” Lauren told him, tossing her hair over her shoulder before squinting down the length of her pool cue, the tip of her tongue curling over the corner of her upper lip.

Jane bit back a laugh and glanced to the girl beside her. “Are you okay?” she asked. April wasn’t Jane’s favorite person by a long shot, but seeing her looking so down made Jane feel guilty for having such a good time.

April forced a smile and nodded faintly. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to play?” Jane motioned to the pool table. “You can take my spot.”

“I suck at pool.” April slid her hand across the leather cover of
Dracula
. Jane smiled at the book.

“Did Sawyer ever tell you that he read that book like a dozen times?”

“This one?” April peered at the novel in her lap.

“Well, not that one specifically, but yeah. He had this tattered paperback he’d take with him everywhere. He just about cried when the cover fell off.”

“It was a tragedy,” Sawyer told them. “I never did get a replacement copy.”

“Take that one,” Jane told him, nodding to the novel in April’s lap. “There’s no way you’ll finish reading it before we leave here anyway,” she told April. “It took me nearly two months to get through it.”

“Is that the unabridged version?” Sawyer asked, stepping over to the girls to take a look at the hardback. “It
is
.” He was pleased.

“It’s an old copy, I think it has some Old English or Elizabethan in it or something…” Jane said.

“I guess that’s why it doesn’t make any sense?” April said, and Jane chuckled in commiseration. The old-timey language had given her a headache too.

“Hark, fair maiden!” Ryan sidestepped the pool table and saddled up to Lauren with a flourish. “Thou art beautiful, but a lousy cheat.”

“I play to win, Count.” Lauren batted her lashes at him.

“And I live to drink,” Ryan shot back, “and must drink to live!” He seized her in his arms and she squealed as she fell back in a dip, Ryan exposing his teeth vampire-style before biting her neck.

Jane held back a laugh as Lauren tried to hide her blush, looking back to April with a faint smile. “Would you like some tea?” she asked.

April shook her head.

“I’ll take some,” Sawyer said.

“A beer?” Ryan asked, raising an eyebrow at his sister. When she made a face at him he jutted out his bottom lip and batted his lashes.

“I thought you only drank blood, Vlad.”

“Blood and beer,” Ryan clarified.

“You’re going to get fat. That stuff is full of carbs.”

“
Blood
is full of carbs?”

“Beer, genius.”

“Chocolate cake, though…” he countered.

“Shut up,” she told him, gathering up Lauren’s cake plate on her way to the kitchen.

“What?” Ryan blinked, feigning offense. “That’s the second time I’ve been told to shut up in a thirty-second span. When did we all get so hostile?”

Jane wrinkled her nose at him and stepped out of the room. There was a crack of pool balls a second later. Lauren shrieked, apparently under attack yet again.

The plates clanged against the counter as Jane left them beside the sink, grabbing the kettle off the stove. Holding it beneath the tap, she peered at Oona. The dog was sitting at attention in front of the kitchen door, seemingly staring at her own reflection in the glass without moving a muscle.

“Are you okay, Oona?” she asked, but the husky didn’t respond to her name. “Do you need to go out?” It was a question Oona knew well, one that usually resulted in excited tail wagging. But again, the dog did nothing. It was almost as though she hadn’t heard Jane at all. Placing the teapot back on the stove, Jane turned on a burner and slid dirty plates onto the dishwasher’s bottom rack. Concerned, she approached the kitchen door to squat next to her brother’s pet, placing a hand on the dog’s back.

Oona reeled back, her teeth bared, and Jane jerked her hand away, her heart thudding in her throat. She fell backward, putting distance between herself and the growling dog by pushing away with her feet. She could hear Ryan in the hallway. He yelled Oona’s name and she immediately backed down, ducking her head in guilt.

“What the hell just happened?” he asked as he came into the kitchen, extending a hand to his sister while his eyes remained on his dog.

“I don’t know,” Jane replied, her voice shaking, unable to help the tears from springing to her eyes. Ever since she was a kid, she’d cry when she was scared or angry, as though processing an excess of emotion at once was too much for her to handle.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she insisted. “Just freaked out. I thought she wanted to go outside, and then she just turned on me.”

Ryan crouched in front of the husky, catching her by the snout so he could look her in the eyes, then snapped his fingers and pointed her out of the kitchen. Oona bowed her head and slunk away, utterly harmless in her stance.

“I just scared her,” Jane confessed, her gaze snagging on Sawyer, who was now standing in the mouth of the hallway, a concerned look veiling his features.

A second later Oona was barking in the living room—a less-than-friendly snarl that rumbled from the depth of her throat.

“What the
fuck
?” Ryan stomped across the room. Jane clasped her hands together, steadying their tremor as she offered Sawyer an embarrassed smile.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly. Jane nodded, waving her hand as if dismissing the whole thing. Sawyer took a step closer, his fingers sweeping across her hand before he retracted his touch, startled by Lauren’s voice behind them.

“Um, guys?” Lauren stepped into the kitchen with an expression Jane couldn’t read. “I think I know why Oona’s flipping out. There’s something outside. April just saw something out the window.”

The four of them made a beeline back to the game room. April stood next to the couch, her arms wrapped around her waist, her nose an inch from the glass. Oona leaped onto the sofa, growling beneath her breath before expelling another bark.

“What was it?” Ryan asked, flipping the light switch next to the outside door. The light illuminated a plain concrete slab; nothing but a barbecue grill and a couple of loungers folded up against the side of the house.

“Deer,” April said. “Something was chasing them.”

“A wolf?” Sawyer asked, giving Ryan a questioning glance.

“Could be.” Ryan shrugged, but April shook her head in response.

“It looked big.”

The group stared at one another for a long moment, then turned to look out the window again. Oona whined and jumped off the couch, stopping in front of the door, waiting to be let out.

“Don’t you dare,” Jane warned. “It could be a bear or something.”

“It’s not a bear,” Ryan said. “They’re hibernating.”

“Well, what else could it be?”

“Hold on to her collar,” Ryan commanded.

“What?”

“Hold on to Oona’s collar,” he repeated. “I’m opening the door.”

“Oh my god,” Lauren said from behind her hand.

“No,” Jane protested, but she hooked her fingers beneath the husky’s collar anyway, knowing that if Ryan went through with it, Oona would be out that door before anyone could stop her. “Ryan, don’t,” she said. “What if it’s dangerous?”

“The only thing dangerous out here are wolves, and they’re scared of people,” he insisted, throwing the dead bolt. “Did you put anything in the outside trash can? They probably smell food.”

“Yeah,” Lauren said under her breath. “They smell food, as in
us
.”

“I didn’t throw anything out,” Jane told him. “It’s all inside.”

“If they’re scared of people, what’s the point?” Lauren asked. “Just leave it.”