Page 5 of The Wrong Drive

“I’m just calling to tell you I’m stuck,” I say, the wind feeling like a blade on my face as I ignore everything he just spat at me. “And I guess I have to walk the rest of the way to the cabin.”

He’s silent.

“Adam?”

“You’re kind of breaking up with the wind.” His annoyed tone lightens. “Did you say you’re stuck and walking now?”

“Yeah.” As my answer leaves my lips, I hear something in the distance—something that sounds a lot like dogs barking. It sends a shockwave of nerves through my shivering body…But at least it’s a sign of life up ahead?

“You said you can see the house, right?”

“I don’t know…” I squint into the snow as I start forward, cradling the phone against my ear. “I think so.” I make out some sort of structure, but it’s almost impossible to tell for sure. “I hear dogs barking though.”

“That’s a good sign,” he sighs, sounding relieved to some degree. “Just tell them you’re stuck. Like I said, I can come and get you if you hurry up and get an address. I still can’t see your location, Em. I’m already getting ready to leave. Most people around here are nice, and they’re going to be understanding with the weather. They might be able to get you unstuck…again,ifyou hurry.”

“I’m moving as fast as I can,” I exasperate, my hiking boots not warm enough for this kind of trek. “I should’ve put on my insulated boots.”

“Just keep your head down, and you’ll be?—”

“What?”

Silence.

I pull the phone away from my ear, the sound of the dog’s bark growing as the wind dies down for a moment. I look ahead in the break, spotting the two-story log cabin ahead. It’s not nearly as far as I thought, and based on my distance judging skills, it’s only about a hundred yards away.

I sniff hard, my nose already beginning to run.I can make it.I glance down at the phone, and see thecall failedpop up on thescreen. I let out a sigh as chills run down my spine. I’m alone in this, but it’ll be fine.

Most people are nice. And hopefully these people are the nice kind.

But the thought is hardly comforting as all the reruns of crime shows start playing in my head. My hands shake as I break through the trees, and I hold onto my hood as the wind tries to tear it off. I have no idea what I’m walking into, and as the dog barking grows increasing incessant, I start to grow wearier.

I manage to make it another fifty yards before I can actually make out more details the cabin. It’s not in the best shape, but it’s not run down and abandoned, either. There’s a dog baying, though I can’t pinpoint from where, exactly.

Someone has to be home. They have to feed their dog, right?

With one hand holding my hood, I shield my eyes with the other, and as I do, I think I make out movement on the porch. It’s impossible to see all that well, but for the sake of how cold I am, and how desperate I am to get out of here…

“Hey!” I shout above the blowing snow. “I’m stuck, can you help me?”

There’s no response. Maybe they can’t hear me over the shrill of the wind. Or maybe it was just the dog? I yell out again, my voice cracking with the ache of the brutal cold in my lungs. It was in the fifties back home—which is where I should’ve stayed.

No one answers again, and as my eyes water, I do my best to blink it away. The snow doesn’t seem to be coming down as hard at the moment. I sigh in relief, rehearsing what I’ll say when I reach the porch.

I made a wrong turn, I’m really sorry. Can you help me get unstuck? My boyfriend is on the way. Or is it myex-boyfriend? Are we even together anymore?

My mind comes to a screeching halt as a loud crack pierces the winter air.

And painsearsthrough my hand.

I drop my gaze down, seeing my shattered phone…and blood.A lot of blood.Holy shit. Did I… Did I just… Did I just getshot?The wind tears my hood from my head, and I drop the phone into the snow, droplets of crimson staining the white powder as I do. I blink back tears and charge into the trees, cradling my hand as I try to get a grip.

What the hell just happened?

I try to catch my breath as I lean against the tree, my back to the cabin. I turned down the wrong drive, obviously. Obviously, these aren’t themostly nicepeople I was hoping for. But still, this has to be a misunderstanding. I’m from Oklahoma. I get the trespasser thing, I do. I get backwoods vigilantes. But seriously, I mean no harm. I’mjuststuck. I don’t want to hang out here. I don’t want to steal their shit and sell it for meth.

My eyes drop once again to my bleeding hand, seeing the bullet grazed the inside of my palm. I can’t tell how bad it is right now—and I don’t have time to worry about it. I tuck it up under the bottom of my black coat and squeeze, trying to stop the bleeding and calm my nerves.

Maybe it was an accident. Maybe it was just meant to scare me.

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