I can hear myself whining and my teeth starting to rattle against each other, I’m frozen through and paralyzed with fear.
I’ll be lucky to last until dawn in here, let alone until any help arrives.
My phone signal is nonexistent, and I can hear the huge cat pawing at the door, screeching, and growling as it starts to put its weight against the barrier.
Sniffing for me through the gaps in the wood, I know it won’t be long until it finds another way in.
As if the cat can read my mind, I hear its heavy feet padding across the roof which creaks under its weight as it sniffs loudly, seeking me out.
I swear to myself, if I live through this I’ll never be mad or angry with anyone ever again. Especially James.
Oh, James. Why didn’t I listen to you? Why didn’t I just trust your judgment?
There’s no time for me to feel sorry for myself, my own scream as I see the cat’s huge head coming through the ceiling is enough to startle us both, the massive cat hissing loudly and baring its teeth.
Shining the light in its eyes does nothing, and I grab the nearest thing I can reach for, a length of lumber from where the roof’s caved in, and with a single stabbing motion squeezing my eyes shut I thrust it towards the big cat.
I don’t hit anything, and opening my eyes I can’t see the cat anymore either.
I frantically look for things to block the hole with, trying and failing badly until I hear myself scream once more.
The cougar’s gone back to the front door, pushing it with what I guess is its front paws while putting all its weight behind it.
It wants in and I have no way out.
The door’s shoved open about half a foot, a giant paw swiping inside with claws gleaming.
I scream for the only thing I can think of, the only thing I want right now.
“James!”
Chapter Twenty
James
“Slow down, will ya,” Bob shouts, the rental drifting around each corner as the tires spin, thick with muddied water from the track all the way up the hill.
I wish I could slow down, and I wish I’d left him behind. He’s done nothing but act like an old woman the whole way.
Problem is, he’s the only one who knows where this cabin is.
And I’m hoping that’s where Krystal has gone. The thought of her anywhere out in this storm is unbearable.
“How much further is it?” I snarl after what seems like way too long to be driving up the same set of hills making little progress.
I look over to Bob, but he’s just pointing at the rain splashing across the windshield.
I stifle a groan until I see what he’s pointing at, skidding to a halt right next to the car we both recognize, poking out the wrong way up at a sickening angle out of a ditch.
In seconds I’m at the driver’s side of her car, noticing the fading dim light of the lights and the door ajar.
No sign of serious injury, no blood or anything.
But no Krystal either.
“She’d never leave her car. She’s smarter than that,” Bob announces, wringing his hands as he studies the scene.
“How far to this cabin?” I ask with some urgency.
“About two miles, there’s a stone stair about a half mile that way and then a path that should lead straight there.
“So she wasn’t too far?” I suggest, looking at the wrecked car again, figuring she would’ve left the car if she was making for the cabin, knowing she’d make it.
“I think that’s where she went,” I tell her dad who looks huffy, wanting to believe his daughter can’t function on her own maybe.
“Well, we can’t stand in the rain all night,” he reminds me, and taking my own car as far up as I can before nearly suffering the same fate as Krystal, we decide it’s time to start hiking.
Bob shivers under a blanket and I recommend he stay with the car. “Wait here and try for a phone signal, Bob. If you go out in this dressed like that you’ll get pneumonia,” I try to tell him.
But his determination matches my own, and despite looking like hell, he insists he’s coming with me.
“It’s my daughter for god’s sake,” he calls out after me.
“Come if you want, Bob, but I’m not waiting for-”
“Aarrrggghhh!”
His piercing cry makes me stop and rolling my eyes I turn slowly, seeing him face down in a puddle of mud.
All the ‘I told you so’s’ I have ready won’t help either, and I try helping him up only to hear him scream higher and louder.
“What is it Bob, where are you hurt?” I ask him, not daring to touch him too much but sitting him up a little.
“My… Ah, Jesus. My back… I did it a few years back… Oh, fuck!” he cries out loud, obviously in agony.