Page 2 of Cabin Fever

There was a wood-burning stove immediately off to my left, cold and unlit. Along the wall next to it was a kitchenette. The cabinets, the counters, almost everything made of the same wood as the cabin itself. The only thing not made of wood was the porcelain farmhouse sink.

In the middle of the room was a small, square table with two wooden chairs. I knew cabins were meant to be rustic, but it looked like an oak and a walnut tree had an inappropriate relationship.

"Is anyone here?"

There was only silence . . . and wood. Lots and lots of wood.

Did someone even live in this place?

As much as I had no desire to piss off the owner of this home, I didn't want to be stuck in the middle of nowhere alone, either.

Maybe they're out for the day. I turned to gaze through the small window by the door. The sun was disappearing behind the trees. It must be late in the afternoon. If the person who lived here went out earlier, perhaps he or she would return soon.

Then what do I say?Hi there! I hope you don't mind, but I broke into your house because I thought a pack of killer animals were after me?

I was almost sure that the person would think I was crazy and call the police.

At least if the authorities were contacted, I could go home. But did I want to go home?

No. Not really.

"Great, Olivia! Make up your mind. Do you want to be found or do you wish to remain lost?"

I rubbed at the tiny crease that rose between my eyes, willing for a clarifying answer. Nothing came.

A few strands of my golden hair stuck to my mouth as I shook my head. "Focus. Need to find someone or something to help me. Maybe there's a phone here."

And yes, I do talk out loud in times of stress.

Raising my chin, I limped toward the back of the cabin and noticed two doors.

There was no response when I knocked on the door to my left. Slowly, I turned the handle and pushed. A clean, empty bathroom was inside. One toilet, pedestal sink, mirror cabinet, and a white claw-foot tub. The décor: wood, naturally.

Opening the cabinet, I found it was empty. Not even a forgotten toothpick was left behind. The reality that the owner wasn't a minimalist but actually nowhere to be found was becoming heart-crushingly clear.

The other room might contain signs of a person inhabiting this cabin. Anything to let me know a person was here recently. But as I left the bathroom and opened the room across the hall, reality sunk in. This small bedroom with a bed frame, double mattress, dresser, and no sheets or clothing to be found was a bitter slap in the face.

I was alone.

That's okay. It's a cabin. I had shelter from the elements. There should be something here to keep me warm. Maybe discarded wood I could throw in the stove for heat. I'd never created a fire before, not even when I went camping with my friends in high school. We had servants for that.

It couldn't be that hard to start a fire, though. Just wood and a match.

I made my way farther into the cabin and discovered a back door. There's always chopped wood neatly stacked along the outside of the house in movies. I'll check outside. The floor underneath me creaked as I unlocked and pulled the door open. I stiffened when I heard the terrifying cries of the wild beasts again.

Slamming it shut, I twisted every bolt and lock on the door. In case all five of them failed, I grabbed a chair from the dining area up front and ran back to wedge under the doorknob. The wood could wait until later.

The chilled air might do me some good. My mother had a winter wonderland themed New Year's party where there was an ice sculpture garden. Even former president William Higgins showed up and commented that the brisk walk helped him feel revitalized. Maybe it would help me, too. I could use some revitalization!

I was secure in this cabin, had a mattress to sleep on, and I could huddle up into my coat to keep warm. What more did a woman need?

My stomach rumbled. Food. Apparently, I needed food.

I hadn't eaten since early this morning. Perhaps that small kitchenette had something that could see me through the night.

Taking a deep breath, I made my way toward the front to the small kitchen. Five cabinets. I opened every one. Nothing.

"Oh God, I'm going to die here."

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