Page 5 of Obscurity
Her instincts immediately went on alert.
She wasn’t afraid of being in the backwoods. Of being an outsider.
She’d lived the life of an outsider, so she was used to it.
But something about this place felt a little too backward for her tastes.
She quickly scanned the store. A single glass-fronted refrigerator with drinks inside. Several displays of snacks. A wall of cigarettes.
The floor was stained. The ceiling tiles had water marks or were missing altogether. Everything was dirty, covered in years of dust and grime.
Two men stood near the beer cooler. Their conversation stopped when she walked in.
Both men were probably in their forties and wore work clothes that had seen better days. Baseball caps were pulled low over their faces, and the shorter one had a bushy beard. The taller one had pale eyes that tracked her movement with uncomfortable intensity.
Her instincts screamed for her to leave.
“Help you?” The clerk behind the counter was an older man with grizzled features and suspicious eyes.
He didn’t exude the Southern hospitality Olive had hoped for. Instead, he gave off a hunting vibe—but not in a good way.
It was in a way that indicated she could be the prey.
“Good evening. I’m trying to get to Pine Ridge Lodge.” Olive kept her voice friendly despite the prickle of unease between her shoulder blades. “My GPS took me on some kind of detour, and I think I’m lost.”
“Pine Ridge, huh?” The clerk’s expression didn’t change, but something shifted in the atmosphere of the small store. “You here for that music thing?”
“That’s right. Just a weekend getaway.” She pulled out her phone, hoping to show him the route she’d been following. “My phone’s acting up, though. I can’t seem to get online.”
“Yeah, reception ain’t great around here.” The clerk stared at the map on her phone. “Pine Ridge is about thirty minutes back the way you came, then left on County Road 15. Can’t miss it.”
“There’s no road construction?”
He shrugged. “Not that I’ve heard about.”
Thirty minutes back? This detour had put her seriously behind schedule.
She was about to ask for clarification when one of the men by the beer cooler spoke up.
“Another one heading to Grayfall.” Though he was speaking to his companion, his gravelly voice carried in the small space. “They don’t know what they’re in for.”
Olive wasn’t sure if he was playing with her, trying to scare her away, or both. His tone was impossible to read.
“Too many people asking questions about that place,” the other man said. “They’re about to find out what kinds of things happen there.”
She glanced back. She’d felt the man’s eyes on her since she stepped inside—and they weren’t always on her face either.
“Some folks need to learn to stay away from places where they don’t belong,” Pale Eyes continued.
The words were clearly meant for her to hear. They were a warning, delivered in a way that suggested these men were used to making people uncomfortable. Maybe they even enjoyed it.
Olive maintained her friendly demeanor while keeping her eye on the exit and noting the exact positioning of everyone in the store.
Over her shoulder, she noticed that Pale Eyes had shifted toward the door.
She needed to get out of here. Now.
“Well, thanks for the directions.” Her voice carried just the right note of cheerful gratitude while her fingers curled slightly at her sides, ready to react.
