heard the
automatic locks engage, and looked around. The area was heavily wooded
and showing signs of approaching autumn. The sun was well on its way to
setting and there was a chill to the air. The only thing I found odd was
the silence surrounding us. It hadn’t been long ago that we had noticed
such stillness: a lack of wildlife, birds, or cars. The similarity
to that first day when we ran from old Mr. Anderson sent shivers up my
spine. I wanted to tell Gus, but didn’t dare speak. Boggs ushered
me ahead of him, and I noticed his right hand held the pistol. Ahead of
me was Emilie, who had her arms wrapped around herself defensively. Gus
took the lead. He had his shotgun loosely aimed ahead, ready for attack
from any direction.
We picked up our pace to a healthy
walk. I was beginning to tire and my hip was starting to throb.
After several minutes, Gus slowed and turned to us, holding a finger to his
lips. We all stopped to look when he crouched and pointed. I
couldn’t help but smile when I saw a weathered two-story log cabin, knowing it
might be a harbor of safety.
Gus whispered to us, “Let’s start
by skirting the cabin to look in the windows. It should give us an idea
of what, or who, is inside. Stay down, and stay together.” He gave
us all the “understood?” look, and I gave a thumbs-up
signal. Boggs and Emilie copied my gesture.
We stayed crouched and closed the
expanse to the cabin, using the natural growth of the forest to conceal
ourselves. It hurt my hip to do so, but it was a small price to pay for potential
safety. We followed Gus to a back window. It was too high for any
of us to reach alone, so Gus gave Emilie a boost upward. It took her
several seconds to study the inside, and then she slid down into Gus’
arms. She looked like she belonged there despite their obvious age
difference.
“It’s dark inside,” she whispered
as he set her down on her feet. “No signs of anyone living. No
movement. I see the kitchen.”
Gus nodded to her. “Good
job, darlin’.” He signaled for us to creep around the corner to the
other side. Boggs led the way. There was a larger window here, down
lower, so Gus himself peered in. He copied my thumbs-up sign in
approval.
Daylight was beginning to fade, so
we hustled and moved around to the front door. Gus signaled for us to
stand back, which we did. He walked up the three small porch steps and
side-stepped to the door, which was solid wood but had two narrow panes of
glass that ran vertically on either side. Staying off to one side, he peeked in
through the closer of the two windows and watched for a long moment.
Satisfied, he motioned us forward. As we approached he tested the
knob, finding it locked as we expected.
“I can’t see any signs of life
inside,” he whispered. “Looks like the furniture’s all
covered. That’s a good sign it’s vacant. Boggs, we need to
get inside. I have to check out the top floor, though. Stay here
with the girls while I climb up?”
Boggs nodded. “Sure.”
“Assuming it looks ok, I’ll check
for an open window since the first floor is locked up tight. If I find
one I’ll go in and clear the structure from the top down, then let you all in
the front door. If there’s trouble before I get back, climb to the roof.”
“What if there’s not?” asked
Emilie.
“Not what?” asked Gus.
“An open window,” she
huffed. “How will we get in if you don’t find an open window?”
Gus stared at her for a minute
then winked at her. “I can break in, don’t worry.”
Gus walked to the edge of the
covered porch and skillfully scaled a post, using an uncared for flower pot as
a step. I looked at the withered, brittle plants and dry cracked soil and
was hopeful it was another sign of abandonment of the building. I looked
back to Gus, who was already pulling himself up onto the porch roof. We
briefly heard his
automatic locks engage, and looked around. The area was heavily wooded
and showing signs of approaching autumn. The sun was well on its way to
setting and there was a chill to the air. The only thing I found odd was
the silence surrounding us. It hadn’t been long ago that we had noticed
such stillness: a lack of wildlife, birds, or cars. The similarity
to that first day when we ran from old Mr. Anderson sent shivers up my
spine. I wanted to tell Gus, but didn’t dare speak. Boggs ushered
me ahead of him, and I noticed his right hand held the pistol. Ahead of
me was Emilie, who had her arms wrapped around herself defensively. Gus
took the lead. He had his shotgun loosely aimed ahead, ready for attack
from any direction.
We picked up our pace to a healthy
walk. I was beginning to tire and my hip was starting to throb.
After several minutes, Gus slowed and turned to us, holding a finger to his
lips. We all stopped to look when he crouched and pointed. I
couldn’t help but smile when I saw a weathered two-story log cabin, knowing it
might be a harbor of safety.
Gus whispered to us, “Let’s start
by skirting the cabin to look in the windows. It should give us an idea
of what, or who, is inside. Stay down, and stay together.” He gave
us all the “understood?” look, and I gave a thumbs-up
signal. Boggs and Emilie copied my gesture.
We stayed crouched and closed the
expanse to the cabin, using the natural growth of the forest to conceal
ourselves. It hurt my hip to do so, but it was a small price to pay for potential
safety. We followed Gus to a back window. It was too high for any
of us to reach alone, so Gus gave Emilie a boost upward. It took her
several seconds to study the inside, and then she slid down into Gus’
arms. She looked like she belonged there despite their obvious age
difference.
“It’s dark inside,” she whispered
as he set her down on her feet. “No signs of anyone living. No
movement. I see the kitchen.”
Gus nodded to her. “Good
job, darlin’.” He signaled for us to creep around the corner to the
other side. Boggs led the way. There was a larger window here, down
lower, so Gus himself peered in. He copied my thumbs-up sign in
approval.
Daylight was beginning to fade, so
we hustled and moved around to the front door. Gus signaled for us to
stand back, which we did. He walked up the three small porch steps and
side-stepped to the door, which was solid wood but had two narrow panes of
glass that ran vertically on either side. Staying off to one side, he peeked in
through the closer of the two windows and watched for a long moment.
Satisfied, he motioned us forward. As we approached he tested the
knob, finding it locked as we expected.
“I can’t see any signs of life
inside,” he whispered. “Looks like the furniture’s all
covered. That’s a good sign it’s vacant. Boggs, we need to
get inside. I have to check out the top floor, though. Stay here
with the girls while I climb up?”
Boggs nodded. “Sure.”
“Assuming it looks ok, I’ll check
for an open window since the first floor is locked up tight. If I find
one I’ll go in and clear the structure from the top down, then let you all in
the front door. If there’s trouble before I get back, climb to the roof.”
“What if there’s not?” asked
Emilie.
“Not what?” asked Gus.
“An open window,” she
huffed. “How will we get in if you don’t find an open window?”
Gus stared at her for a minute
then winked at her. “I can break in, don’t worry.”
Gus walked to the edge of the
covered porch and skillfully scaled a post, using an uncared for flower pot as
a step. I looked at the withered, brittle plants and dry cracked soil and
was hopeful it was another sign of abandonment of the building. I looked
back to Gus, who was already pulling himself up onto the porch roof. We
briefly heard his
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