Murray’s bike leaned against a tree along the path, helmet hanging on the handlebars. I knew he’d come to the woods earlier this morning to meet his girlfriend, but he should have been back by now. I knew about the old cabin they used for such meetings. Of course, I knew about the cabin. I’d used it for just such meetings myself back in the day. Back in my day, the cabin was in much better shape. I thought back to my years as a teen in the small town.
People had used that old, abandoned hunting cabin for drugs, sex, and rock and roll for generations. No one knew who built it or when it was abandoned, but it was in just the right place. Far enough from prying adults’ eyes but close enough to get back to town in a hurry or get help. We’d been lucky all those years. No one ever had to call for help, as far as I know. I wondered if the authorities even knew about it. Then I reminded myself that the current sheriff, my father, and the town council had grown up in the area. So yeah, they knew about it but had probably forgotten about it decades ago.
It would stay that way if I could help it. Even with the sun shining through the bare branches, it was still too cool to be out here this evening. I wished I’d had my coat as I plowed through the undergrowth. The limb was leaning against the sidewall, the signal we’d used for ages to tell if the cabin was busy.
Several deep breaths later, I knocked on the door, and Murray opened it slightly.
White as a sheet, he whispered, “Cal?” as he stepped back into the room, letting me in.
“Murray, what happened?”
I hurried to where she lay on the makeshift bed. Touching her forehead, I recoiled, her skin was cold, and she wasn’t breathing. I stood, turning to face Murray.
“Murray, she’s dead. What the hell happened?”
“I don’t know... We were… you know.. and all of a sudden, she cried out and fell into my arms. I tied to help her… but.. she just….” He sat on the bed next to her and touched her hand lightly.
“Don’t. Don’t touch her anymore. Murray, you high?”
He sat up straight. “NO! We never touched that stuff. You know that.” I knew he’d had problems with weed a few years back.
“Okay. That’s good. She didn’t do anything?”
“No.”
“You know I have to call Dad.”
“Yeah.” He slumped back on the bed next to Angie’s lifeless body. As I went outside to call my dad, I told myself, “at least she has her clothes on.”
It didn’t take long for my dad to arrive. He didn’t comment on the cabin and was all business, taking our statements. Later that night, I was at the station waiting for him to finish interviewing Murray about Angie’s death when I noticed a thick file on his desk marked “Cabin In the Woods.”
I started thumbing through the file, my heart racing. It was full of reports regarding unexplained deaths in the cabin. A girl died just like what happened with Murray and Angie in each one.
The cabin in the woods held more secrets than I thought.
People had used that old, abandoned hunting cabin for drugs, sex, and rock and roll for generations. No one knew who built it or when it was abandoned, but it was in just the right place. Far enough from prying adults’ eyes but close enough to get back to town in a hurry or get help. We’d been lucky all those years. No one ever had to call for help, as far as I know. I wondered if the authorities even knew about it. Then I reminded myself that the current sheriff, my father, and the town council had grown up in the area. So yeah, they knew about it but had probably forgotten about it decades ago.
It would stay that way if I could help it. Even with the sun shining through the bare branches, it was still too cool to be out here this evening. I wished I’d had my coat as I plowed through the undergrowth. The limb was leaning against the sidewall, the signal we’d used for ages to tell if the cabin was busy.
Several deep breaths later, I knocked on the door, and Murray opened it slightly.
White as a sheet, he whispered, “Cal?” as he stepped back into the room, letting me in.
“Murray, what happened?”
I hurried to where she lay on the makeshift bed. Touching her forehead, I recoiled, her skin was cold, and she wasn’t breathing. I stood, turning to face Murray.
“Murray, she’s dead. What the hell happened?”
“I don’t know... We were… you know.. and all of a sudden, she cried out and fell into my arms. I tied to help her… but.. she just….” He sat on the bed next to her and touched her hand lightly.
“Don’t. Don’t touch her anymore. Murray, you high?”
He sat up straight. “NO! We never touched that stuff. You know that.” I knew he’d had problems with weed a few years back.
“Okay. That’s good. She didn’t do anything?”
“No.”
“You know I have to call Dad.”
“Yeah.” He slumped back on the bed next to Angie’s lifeless body. As I went outside to call my dad, I told myself, “at least she has her clothes on.”
It didn’t take long for my dad to arrive. He didn’t comment on the cabin and was all business, taking our statements. Later that night, I was at the station waiting for him to finish interviewing Murray about Angie’s death when I noticed a thick file on his desk marked “Cabin In the Woods.”
I started thumbing through the file, my heart racing. It was full of reports regarding unexplained deaths in the cabin. A girl died just like what happened with Murray and Angie in each one.
The cabin in the woods held more secrets than I thought.
