Page 9 of Lumberjack DADDY
Quickly gathering my things, I stuff them all into my bag and climb down from the rock. My skin is tingling and my heart thunders in my chest. The forest has fallen silent. The birds overhead have stopped singing, the insects have gone quiet, and none of the critters that call these woods home are skittering through the undergrowth. It’s like I stepped into a vacuum. And the sheer silence around me is eerie.
My stomach twisting into knots, I follow the path back the way I came, keeping my eyes moving as I scan the trees around me. As I walk back along the trail, I hear somebody shuffling through the undergrowth, sending a white-hot bolt of fear shooting through my veins. Whoever is out there is following me! I stop and turn in a circle, searching the forest. The footsteps stop.
“Hello?” I call out.
I wait for a beat but get no reply. Swallowing hard, I start to walk faster, and the footsteps resume. But sound is distorted out here, and I can’t tell where they’re coming from.
I start to run.
But whenever I look over my shoulder, I can’t see anybody back there, which only terrifies me more. As I run, I feel like I’m teetering on the verge of a panic attack.
Tears stream down my face, the joy I’d felt just a moment ago melts away as terror grips me. I sense whoever is back there is closing the gap between us. The back of my neck tingles like their fingertips are brushing my skin. A choked sob bursts from my mouth as I lower my head, grit my teeth, and pump my arms and legs harder and faster, running as fast as I can.
They crash through the bushes behind me, and they sound even closer. I try to bite back my sobbing, focusing on putting all my breath into my lungs to fuel my flight. And when I finally round the bend and burst into the clearing where my cabin sits, I let out a cry of relief. I dash across the clearing and up onto the porch, throwing the door open, then slam it behind me. I throw the locks then press my back to the door, my breath ragged and the tears flowing once more.
I move to the window and peer around the corner. At first, I don’t see anybody out there. There isn’t anybody lurking in the clearing or among the trees that ring it, and for a moment, I start to worry that I’d imagined the whole thing. That my imagination got the better of me and I mistook an animal in the woods for somebody chasing me.
I’m a city girl. I’m not used to all the animals and noises that fill the forest surrounding the cabin.
But then I see a figure. Whoever’s out there is standing in a deep pocket of shadow between the tree trunks, making it difficult to see them. I squint my eyes, making sure I’m not just seeing things and jumping at literal shadows. But when they move, my heart leaps into my throat once more.
I’m not seeing things. Thereissomebody out there.
I pull my phone out of my bag and quickly dial the number. Keeping my eyes on the figure out there, I press the phone to my ear and grit my teeth.
“Pick up, pick up, please,” I cry, my voice trembling as hard as my hand. He picks up on the third ring, and I don’t let him get a single word out.
“Eli,” I cry. “There’s somebody out here!”
8
ELI
The panic in Emery’s voice sends a flood of adrenaline rushing through me. I grab my shotgun and sprint across the grounds to Cabin B. She must have seen me coming because the door opens and she comes flying out, white as a sheet, her face etched with terror. My heart jumps into my throat when I see her, and I have to fight the urge to scoop her up and hold her to me, to make sure she’s okay.
“Are you all right?” I ask.
“Somebody—I was?—”
She’s practically hyperventilating and can’t get her words out. Putting her behind me, I turn and scan the tree line. She’d said something about somebody being out here, so I search the shadows between the tree trunks. I don’t see anybody.
“Where was he, Emery?”
She points to a spot between a pair of soaring pines. Her hand is trembling as she does, and it hurts my heart to see. It surprisesnobody more than me, but the last thing I ever want to see is this girl as terrified as she is.
“Wait here,” I tell her.
“But—”
“Wait here,” I repeat.
My shotgun at the ready, I walk to the point between the trees she’d pointed to. I glance over my shoulder to make sure she stayed put. She hasn’t moved, but she’s wringing her hands together and nervously shifting on her feet, fear in her eyes. It’s completely inexplicable to me, but I hate seeing her scared.
When I reach the spot between the trees, I look around. There’s nobody there. But somebody was. There are footprints in the soft dirt at the base of the trees. It looks to me like somebody stood there watching her cabin, just like she thought. Clenching my jaw, I walk back to where she’s standing.
“Whoever it was, they’re gone,” I tell her.
“There was somebody there, I swear it.”
