The Mountain Resort

by Bruce Allsman

  Her hands were still shaking terribly when she handed the ice pick back to Henry. He put it away and came back to her side. They stared down at the open freezer, too stunned to speak any further. She realized that Henry was also breathing heavily.

  "Close it," she told Henry, her voice a whisper.

  They closed the freezer's lid and backed away. Henry led her quickly toward the back door. Her legs could barely take her weight.

  They went out the kitchen door quietly, and Henry closed the door behind them. He looked around to check. Their surroundings were still clear. He led her slowly, walking back to their room, silent along the way. Unable to stop the replay of the ghastly images in her mind, her legs grew weaker, and her stomach was churning but she forced herself to go on. When they reached their room, Henry opened the door and let her in first.

  Without waiting for Henry to close the door, she ran into the bathroom, quickly bent over and vomited into the toilet. When it was over, she rose, flushed the toilet, and wiped her face with a wet towel. Looking in the mirror, she saw only fear in her eyes and her first thoughts were--they have to get out of here now, but how. When she went out of the bathroom, Henry told her they must leave immediately.

  ***

  Hurriedly, Jasmine helped Henry pack, struggling in the darkness, grateful that they had brought down only one piece of luggage.

  "Our stuff in the bathroom, we'll have to leave them," Henry said and she nodded in agreement.

  They mustn't waste any more time, she thought. She went into the bathroom to relieve herself and when she returned, Henry was ready to go, lugging their bag off the bed and pulling it along the carpeted floor.

  After a last minute check around the room to see that they didn't leave anything important behind, she trembled as images of body parts in a freezer flooded her mind.

  "How to get out of here?" she asked. "I don't see any vehicle other than their tow truck."

  "There could be other vehicles hidden, somewhere," he answered.

  "We didn't see any other vehicle," she said.

  "Let's just go to our RV," he said. "Sean might have fixed it."

  "But it's still inside the workshop," she said. "Had he really repaired it?"

  "Come to think of it, I hadn't seen him doing it," he said.

  "If he was back, he might have repaired it," she said. "Could have done it in the afternoon. I hope it's repaired."

  "I hoped so too," he said. "We've to get it out of the workshop fast. There are no other vehicles we could use, other than perhaps their tow truck."

  "We have to take our RV," she said. "I can't bear leaving it here. If we really can't, we take their tow truck."

  "The tow truck will be slow," he said. "And it doesn't look like it could go far."

  She checked her watch. "It's going to be breaking dawn soon," she said. "We have to move fast."

  Coming morning, when the Canns find someone had messed up their chest freezer they would go berserk, she thought. They would know who did it.

  Henry pulled open the door slightly. Cold air rushed in and she shivered. He lifted the bag and led her out the door. He closed the door gently behind them and they walked silently toward the workshop.

  ***

  They approached the workshop, heading straight toward its large sliding door. Gently, Henry put down their bag, and pulled the handle with both hands. Jasmine gasped as the sliding door inched open. In the moonlight, she saw there was no padlock on the hasp.

  She helped Henry to pull harder, and the door slid open a bit farther, creaking loudly, a high pitch screech shattering the nocturnal silence. They stopped immediately and stared across at the main building looking for any signs of activity, but all was quiet and dark.

  They continued pulling the sliding door wider until they could see their RV, facing outward toward the door. It was a long and slow pull to get the entrance just wide enough for their RV to pass through.

  They stepped inside and stood before their RV, facing its large front windshield. Henry gestured to her they had better not switch on the lights. Fortunately, there was enough moonlight flooding the workshop to let them see just enough to find their way, she thought. The interior of the workshop was bare except for their RV. When she saw there were old and unused tools, her heart sank.

  Henry began checking the doors to the RV. All were unlocked. He gestured her to keep an eye out front while he climbed aboard. She stood facing outside watching, afraid someone would come at any moment. When she heard him coming back down, she retreated into the dark workshop.

  He came toward her, held her hands, and shook his head. "It looks like Sean didn't do anything," he said softly. "Damn him."

  This was what she feared all along, of being trapped here and that caused her hands to tremble and her legs to feel weak at the idea of their fate in the hands of those cannibals.

  "Henry, we must do something," she said. "We don't have much time."

  Henry's only reply was silence and he held her close in a hug. Her sobs came uncontrollably, she drew in a deep breath and pulled away from his embrace.

  "What can we do?" she said. "We're dead, dead. We haven't got a chance."

  "Jasmine," he said. "Jasmine, listen, listen to me, please. Calm down. We must think, act rationally. I'll get us out of here."

  They went farther inside the workshop toward the tow truck, parked near the back wall, facing outward, parallel to their RV.

  "Sean had no intention to repair our RV," she said. "It's useless."

  "We'll find another way," he said.

  He was looking over the tow truck, and he gestured her to move nearer to it.

  "We'll have to take this," he said. "It looks old and beat up but it could still be used."

  That's their only means of escape, she thought. Going over to the driver's side, she looked inside while Henry stood at the opposite door.

  "There's no key in the ignition," she said. "It could be anywhere."

  She tried the door, found it unlocked and she pulled it open. The odor of the truck assaulted her immediately. It was like dried vomit and rotten meat. Feeling nauseous, she backed away.

  "This truck stinks," she told Henry.

  He opened the door from the other side.

  "You're right," he said. "Something is wrong." He left the door open.

  "You have to hot-wire it," she said.

  "I don't know how," he said. "Should we do it inside, under the dashboard? Do we need to pop the hood?"

  "You'll have to try, whatever it takes," she said. "This truck is our only way out of here."

  "I know that and I'm well aware of our situation," he said.

  "Don't get mad at me," she said.

  "I'm not mad at you," he said.

  "Henry, I'm sorry," she said, feeling the stress within her. "Try whichever way you think is possible. We don't have much time. If they find out about the freezer, we are dead."

  He nodded, sighed, and told her to pop the hood.

  Reaching down for the lever, she pulled it hard. A loud metallic snap caused her to gasp. She froze and looked at Henry. They both stood still, stopping to listen. After a some time, she was sure there were no other sounds.

  "Hurry, Henry, do something," she said.

  He went over and lifted the hood while she climbed into the driver's seat and began searching for the keys. The nasty smell was overpowering. Checking under the seat, she found nothing. Then she searched the side compartment. Moving over to the other seat, she checked under it and the other side compartment. It was strange, she thought. This truck was really quite clean.

  The glove compartment was next but it was too dark. She had to continue. There could be useful things inside. Reaching in, she probed with her fingers. Most of the items were small and dry like bits of paper, a pair of sunglasses, a folded map, and nothing else. Next, she checked underneath the sun visor above the front passenger seat. A key was taped to its underside.

  She pulled it out, reached over to the dri
ver's side, and inserted it into the ignition. It fitted perfectly. Her heart was beating faster now, but she dare not turn the key.

  "Henry, I've found it," she said. "Close the hood, get in quick."

  Hurriedly, he closed the hood with a loud clank and darted over to the driver's side.

  "Let me drive," he said and she stayed in the front passenger seat. After he had climbed into the driver's seat beside her, she realized they had forgotten their bag.

  "Our bag, Henry," she said.

  He climbed down, grabbed the bag, put it in the back of the truck, and got in beside her. "Okay, let's do this," he said.

  Before he could turn the key in the ignition, all the lights in the workshop were lit, and the workshop door was starting to close.

  "Fuck," he said. "Let's ram the door."

  "Too late," she said, shuddering with fear when she saw them, father and son, with shotguns held up, pointed straight at them.

  "I wouldn't do that if I were you," Gregory said. "Show me your hands. Put them up where I can see them. Now!"

  ***

  Jasmine stared ahead motionless, her chest felt constricted, and her breaths were fast and shallow. Her body was trembling, her knees weak, and she couldn't keep her hands held up for long. With shotguns aimed directly at them, they were told to get down from the tow truck and to get out of the workshop. They stepped down slowly, with hands held up, and walked toward the door, the barrel of the shotguns following their every step.

  Gregory and Sean herded them to the back door of the adjacent building, into the kitchen. Several times along the way, Gregory warned them not to try anything and Henry retorted that they weren't stupid.

  They went through the kitchen toward the farthest corner, behind a tall rack, facing a blank wall. Sean squatted, uncovered a hidden trapdoor on the floor and opened it. He switched on a light bulb and shoved them down the narrow stairs, one person at a time, Henry ahead of her. When she was several steps down, not far behind Henry, someone closed the trapdoor above them. It grew dimmer as they descended, their shoes clattering on the stone slab stairs. The stairs appeared to go on forever. It must be more than twenty feet deep, she thought. Shivering, she took each downward step carefully.

  Placing her hands on Henry's shoulder, she let him guide her. They went down for some time and eventually reached the bottom. She stepped through a narrow opening and found a wider tunnel.

  "Where are you taking us?" she asked.

  "Shut up," Gregory answered. "And keep walking."

  Feeling the cold barrel of a shotgun prodding her back, she kept quiet and walked on farther into the tunnel. It seemed like a disused mine tunnel. Beams of light from flashlights cut through the total darkness, leading them on.

  Henry was now beside her, and they walked on side by side, his hand giving her support. Her legs were still trembling, but she forced herself to continue.

  When they had gone about ten yards into the tunnel, Gregory said, "Stop."

  They halted and she gripped Henry's hand, her breaths short and fast. A beam of light drew her gaze to the left, revealing a door, an iron grill door. It looked like a prison cell door, she thought.

  "Get in there," Gregory said, guiding them in with his beam of light.

  Still holding Henry's hand, she stepped in with him. Then the beam of light vanished, and she couldn't see anything. She went slowly, farther inside, and stopped when she smelled something bad. She tried to hold her breath but she couldn't. Henry was beside her, holding her hand. In the total darkness, she could smell only the cold stinking air, and it was so quiet she could hear Henry's breaths, as short and as rapid as her own.

  The darkness ended when beams of light were shone directly at them and she turned around, shielding her face with her hands, unable to see neither father nor son. Stepping back, a rough cold wall bumped against her back, and she recoiled.

  "Henry!" she called out, her voice cracking with fear.

  "I'm here," he said.

  Feeling his hand on her arm, she grasped it, pulled him closer and hugged him. The smelly cold air made her coughed. She couldn't believe they were now held captive in an abandoned mine by a family of cannibals.

  Cannibals, she shuddered at that abhorrent word. She recalled what they had eaten at the barbecue, everyone, except Daisy. Certain they were being kept as food source, she wondered when they would slaughter Henry and her like pigs. Images of body parts in the freezer flashed through her mind and her hands trembled as she held onto Henry.

  "Everything will be all right," he whispered to her.

  A loud clang jolted her. The iron grill door had slammed shut, and she could hear the scraping of a key being turned in a lock and then withdrawn. After that the two beams of light disappeared. Reaching out, she grabbed the cold grill bars. However, at the whiff of their odor, she flinched, stepping back quickly. Father and son must still be out there somewhere close, she thought.

  "This is what happens when you try and steal my truck, and mess with my freezer," Gregory said. "Since you like freezers so much, I've another ready, for both of you."

  He knew. Soon, it will be over for them. She trembled at those thoughts, her heart beating furiously. She clutched Henry's hands harder and turned away from the grill door.

  "You guys will not get away with this," Henry shouted out. "Someone will come get you sooner or later."

  Father and son laughed, shone light in their faces, blinding them.

  "We will be coming for you later," Gregory said, his voice taunting.

  Their footsteps faded with the beams of light until the place was totally dark and quiet. Jasmine could hear her own breaths and feeling where Henry was, she shuffled toward him, and they hugged for a long time.

  "How are we going to get out of here?" she asked finally, but Henry was silent. "How much time do we have before they come and get us?"

  "I'll volunteer to go first," he said softly.

  "No, No, we'll go together," she said.

  She struck out at the iron grill, gripped its bars, and shook them hard until the pain in her hands made her stop. The door was so solid she couldn't even rattle it. It was as strong as a prison cell door. We are in a prison cell, and we have no hope of escape unless we have the key, she thought.

  "It's useless," Henry said. "We need the key," he added as if he had read her mind.

  "Yes," she said, her voice weak. She was feeling tired and wanted to lie down to sleep but she couldn't. Unable to even feel the condition of the floor, she can't imagine how filthy it would be.

  "They're going to … eat us," she said resignedly.

  "I won't let it happen," he said.

  She laughed and shook her head. How could he stop them, she thought. That family of cannibals was going to do to them just like what they had done to the Davidsons, even the little girl wasn't spared.

  "Let's not assume," he said. "We're not sure of their intentions. Be patient, wait for an opportunity."

  Pulling him toward her, she hugged him tightly, her body convulsing with weak spasms, tears running down her cheeks.

  "We'll be all right," he said, and his hands rubbed her back soothingly. "Don't give up. There must be a way out."

  "I'll pray for guidance," she said, regaining a bit of strength as she thought of her spirit guides.

  "Your spirit guides will help, if you have faith," he said.

  She didn't have much faith but realized it was now time for her to have a lot of faith.

  Feeling tired, she loosened her hold on Henry, and he let her down gently on the floor. The cold hard floor caused her to shiver but soon she was at ease, with Henry's warm body beside her, his arms encircling her. His body heat comforted her and she began to feel drowsy. Gradually, she let go of her tiredness, and began her prayers, finally drifting off into sleep.

  When she heard sounds and peeled open her eyelids, light from a distant source roused her. She couldn't recall how long she had slept. Totally unaware of what time it was now, she shudder
ed at the thought that they were coming already. She called out to Henry and she felt his hands helping her up beside him. They stood, waiting with rising heartbeats. The footfalls grew louder.

  "They're coming … for us," she said, and the first vision that paralyzed her mind was of Gregory and Sean, father and son cannibals.

  Her ears detected only one set of footfalls, slow and unhurried. Soon a strong beam of light revealed that it was Daisy, wearing a helmet with a headlight, cradling a bundle in her hands.

  Daisy slipped the bundle through a narrow opening at the base of the grill door and Jasmine took the bundle of cloth and unfolded it. Relieved it wasn't meat and grateful for several peanut butter sandwiches and a bottle of water, they wolfed down the food. When they had finished, she thanked Daisy again for bringing them.

  Daisy seemed reluctant to leave. The girl was perhaps waiting to say something to them, Jasmine thought.

  "Daisy, what's on your mind?" she asked softly.

  "I need help," Daisy answered. "Need … your commitment."

  "What is it?" she said. "I'll help if I can."

  "I want to make a deal," Daisy said. "I help you guys escape, you take me with you. Take me someplace far away."

  "We'll take you anywhere you want," Henry told Daisy.

  "Yes, if you will help us out of here," she said.

  "I've to go," Daisy said. "I've been here too long. They might suspect something. I'll be back later when it's safe."

  "Yes, you better go now," she said.

  "I'll be back," Daisy said and retreated into the dark tunnel.

  "Could she be up to something?" Henry said.

  "I'm not sure," she said. "I think she has no ulterior motive."

  "We'll see if she comes back for us," Henry said.