The Cabin - A Short Story

The Cabin
by KK Sierra

Sydney felt like a bit of a fool but she couldn't shake the sick ache in her stomach or the empty twist in her heart that told her something was seriously wrong in her world.

She thanked the driver and stepped out into the dark, nearly slipping on the ice hidden under the new snow. The steep dirt road that led to the cabin was too much for anything but a four-wheel drive or an automobile with chains to safely traverse. She'd make the last mile to the cabin on foot.

The lights of the car faded long before the sound of its engine. Hugging herself she shivered, not against the cold, but against the sudden realization that she was very, very alone. In the middle of the night. In below freezing temperatures. With only her light winter jacket, a pair of $1 Walmart stretchy gloves, and her tennis shoes. No wonder the driver had looked at her like she was insane when she insisted on getting out.

With a figurative stiffening of her spine, she started to trudge up the hill. The dark was all encompassing and she could hardly make out her next step. She hadn't expected it to be this dark. The moon had been shining at her house. She didn't even bring a flashlight. Her cell phone had no reception in this remote hunting area.

Hunting! Sydney mentally kicked herself. How could she have forgotten about the bobcat she and Michael saw last time they were up here? It was probably tracking her awkward movements right now.  God knew she was making enough noise.

Frightened beyond anything she'd ever known she tried to climb faster. Her sneakers slipping as she attempted to get purchase against the treacherous ruts and ridges. Finally she moved away from the middle of the road towards the edge and dangerously steep hill beyond. The pine needles mixed with the fresh snow allowed her to walk faster. The risk of falling seeming less likely than getting attacked by a wild beast.

The only sound in her ears was the ragged sound of her own breath and the crunch of snow. The sick feeling was being replaced by anger with every change in elevation.

The snow made everything look different and she almost passed the long drive on the left that led to the small meadow cleared below the cabin. It was only a barely visible reflector on the old growth douglas fir that caught her attention.

Another ten minutes found her staring at the soft glow escaping the large, recently installed, picture windows. Her Uncle was renovating the cabin a little at a time. She could smell the comforting apple wood smoke of a warm fire escaping the chimney. Now that she was here she was afraid to continue. She really should have brought her burly Uncle along.

Michael's truck was there, as was Paul's. Making her way across the meadow she quietly stepped up onto the old porch and opened the screen door. It made a slight squeak, but there was no change in the music she heard playing inside.

With her heart pounding in her throat, she twisted the door knob and stepped inside the kitchen. Sure enough a toasty fire burned merrily in the cast iron stove enveloping her in its warmth. She slowly slid her fingers down, letting the screen door close behind her and was closing the inner door when she heard a breathless feminine giggle and a masculine moan. The door thunked behind her.

Seconds later Paul's large frame and spiky blonde hair filled her vision, "What the fuck? Sydney? Oh, holy shit, I thought you were my dad." Paul then grew very pale. "This isn't what it looks like."

She pushed around him and into the main cabin area. A red headed teen was on the couch, her double d's out for the world to see. Sydney ignored her. Her attention instead captured by the man in the loft frantically trying to get his pants back up, while a woman pouted on her knees beside him.

Picking up the key's to Michael's truck and the cell phone lying on the near-by table she said, "Next time you decide to cheat, don't butt dial your wife."

With nothing else to say, she turned and walked out the door.

###