Chapter 8.1

Sara awoke in total darkness. She felt for her phone beside her sleeping bag. Her hand hit the battery pack the phone was plugged into and followed the charging cable to the phone. The light from the phone’s screen hurt her eyes, making her squint as she unlocked it and turned on the flashlight. She was disoriented and confused as she looked at the time on her phone. It read almost midnight.

“Crap!” Sara exclaimed.

Sara crawled out of her sleeping bag and went to where her backpack lay. She pulled another chemical light stick out of her pack, broke it, and shook it. She placed it on the table to light the cabin while she checked her phone. She had multiple missed calls and text messages from her husband, Kevin. She quickly dialed his number and waited anxiously for him to answer.

“Are you okay?” Kevin blurted out as soon as he answered.

“I’m fine,” Sara told him as calmly as she could. “Try to take a breath and relax a little.”

“What happened? Did you lose cell service because of the storms?” Kevin questioned.

“No, I don’t think. I’m not sure what happened to tell you the truth. I’m sore from the fall, so I haven’t been sleeping well at night. I felt a little tired before lunch and lay down, thinking I would take a nap. It turned out to be the longest nap of my life because I just woke up.”

Kevin exclaimed, exasperated, “Seriously? You have been asleep for that long and slept through your phone going crazy? I don’t know if I should be mad, worried, or relieved.”

“You should be relieved,” Sara told him, her voice tinged with frustration and anger. “My body finally crashed, and I slept hard. This is the first time I’ve slept well since I started this. It is also the first time I have slept more than an hour and a half since I got hurt. It isn’t like I was intentionally avoiding you.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be mad at you. It’s just that when you didn’t answer your phone, I started running the worst-case scenarios through my head about why you weren’t answering, and I freaked myself out. I’m glad you were finally able to get some good-quality sleep. You needed that, and you need more of it.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I’m glad you worry about me. As for needing sleep, I’m wide awake now, so more sleep isn’t going to happen for a while,” Sara told him.

“You’re going to sit in that cabin and read more of that journal, aren’t you?” Kevin asked.

Sara laughed and answered, “I am. Let’s be honest. What else am I going to do until these storms break?”

Kevin sighed, “You have a point. I’m glad you found that cabin, and I might also be a little happy that you found that journal. I do need to ask you something about it, though.”

“What?”

“When you leave the cabin, are you bringing it home with you, or are you going to leave it there?”

“I don’t know yet,” she admitted. “I think that is a decision that I will have to make when I leave.”

“Okay, I was just wondering,” Kevin said. “Now that I know you are still alive, get something to eat and drink, sit, read, and enjoy your solitude. I need to get to bed so I can work tomorrow without falling asleep at my desk before lunch.”

“That sounds like a plan. I love you.”

“I love you too, bye,” Kevin told her before hanging up.

Sara sat quietly in the glow of the light stick, holding her phone. She could not remember her husband ever being mad at her before, which made her stomach tie in knots. She understood why he was upset and angry, yet it bothered her greatly.

She stood, picking up the light stick to exchange it with the one still hanging from the ceiling. Sara had just finished stringing the light stick onto the paracord when she heard a scrape at the back of the cabin on the outside wall. She listened for a moment, expecting to hear the snort that always followed, but was met with nothing but the muffled sound of rain through the thick log walls and roof.

“I’m not in the mood for you, Ted!” Sara screamed.

Her yell was returned with utter silence, followed by a long scrape down the entire side of the cabin. Sara could feel the hair on the back of her neck standing up and goosebumps rising on her flesh. The buck would always respond to her voice. She had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that the sound outside was not from the deer. 

Sara jumped and whirled around to face the door as it began to shake. The shaking was violent. It sounded as if someone were holding the handle, trying to force the door open. She stared at the paracord holding the door closed, silently pleading that it would hold. A loud bang on the door made her flinch and take a step away from the door.

Sara turned and ran to the shelf with the wooden boxes. She quickly searched through them, looking for something to defend herself with if whatever was trying to get in succeeded. Her hand hit the cold metal of the straight razor she had found earlier. Pulling it out of the box, she carefully opened it. She looked down at the blade in her hand as she panted. She covered her mouth with her hand to force herself to breathe more quietly through her nose.

Sara faced the door and waited for something else to happen. Tears were involuntarily streaming down her face out of fear. She kept thinking about all of the supposedly true horror stories about campers being attacked in the forest. She had felt her little cabin sanctuary was safe. Now it felt like a prison. Would someone or something be waiting for her the next time she opened the door?

She stood, anticipating something would happen for what felt like hours. After the bang on the door, nothing else had happened. There was no sound of any kind other than the light rain. Sara stood until she could no longer tolerate the pain throbbing in her leg. 

She limped to the table and gently sat in the chair. She placed the straight razor on the table beside her and looked at the bandage on her leg. A small spot of blood was forming on the white gauze. Sara sighed as she began to change the dressing as quietly as possible. Her hands were shaking so much she could barely do what was needed, taking twice as long as it usually would. 

When Sara had finished, she sat quietly, listening for the slightest sound. She could hear the distant rumbling of thunder and nothing else but the ceaseless rain. She wanted to call her husband just to hear his voice. At the same time, she knew he was asleep and did not want to wake him. 

For the first time in her trip, Sara considered calling Steve’s cousin Danny. The problem with that was she did not want to sound like a scared little girl because there was a strange sound outside. She did not know Danny. What would she even tell him?

A sudden growl from her stomach startled Sara. She shook her head and smiled about getting so upset about a noise that her own stomach growling would make her jump. She grabbed the pot her jambalaya was in, tipped it toward herself, and looked at the contents. She curled her lip and put the pot down. She opted for a protein bar from her pack as she picked up the journal and began to read again.

December 4, 1879

Jim woke up this morning wanting fry bread and coffee. His belly started hurting after he took a few bites. It still looks swollen and bruised. I felt a little relief when he felt better yesterday and asked for breakfast this morning, but now I am worried again. I did get him to drink some willow bark tea. We will see if that helps him. 

I had hoped my busted shoulder would start to heal by now. I think it hurts more this morning than it ever has since it happened. We are quite the pair. Jim is bedridden. I have my arthritis and can only use one arm. We aren’t much use right now. 

December 4, 1879

Second entry. Jim is starting to feel a little better now. After he had his breakfast and tea, he went back to sleep. I guess he just needed more rest because now he is having another piece of fry bread and talking about what he might want for supper. 

Jim asked me how much snow we had gotten. I opened the door to look, and when he saw it all packed in the doorway, he said something that I think were curse words. I’m not sure since they were not in English. 

The snow is now three-quarters of the way up the door. I think the snow has stopped falling for the time being. There is still a brutal wind whipping it around to make it near white-out, so it is hard to tell.

Jim has informed me he wants a stew tonight for supper that he knows how to make, and I do not. He is promising he will tell me how to do it. If we go hungry because it is inedible, he will have to take responsibility for it.

Sara started laughing so hard she had to stop reading. The last paragraph made her remember how she had sprained her ankle the year before, and her poor husband Kevin was left to do most of the cooking. They did not starve, but the meals were far from gourmet. Kevin had also made her promise that if anything like that happened again, they would eat take-out or delivery until she was able to cook again. Sara happily agreed to that for the sake of her taste buds and stomach.

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