by Mia Ford
“Damn traitor,” I mumbled, though I couldn’t help but wonder if the dog was trying to tell me something.
He was usually a good judge of character, which made me feel even more guilty for what I had said to the woman.
Huffing, more out of frustration and confusion, still unsure of why I cared so much, I turned and started to walk by myself, before either of them noticed my leering.
I walked the familiar mountainside, hastily finding the place where Carrie was attacked. Taking a walk around the perimeter, I tried to piece together everything I had missed the night before. I wanted to make sure that I didn’t miss anything again and if there was something that I thought I might need, I wanted to know what it was.
On the ground, I found shattered pieces of glass and a needle. I figured that the asshole had used this against Carrie and the idea made my blood boil.
Stomping through the woods, now seething I walked beyond the small clearing, in the direction that the man had taken off in.
Along the way, I noticed signs of where the guide had run.
Not too far away, I found another clearing. In it, I found the remnants of a fire and two tents that looked to have been left behind.
I thought it was strange that one of the tents looked like it had gotten into a fight with something and inside, I found clothing and other belongings that looked to belong to a woman.
As soon as I opened the bag, a strangely familiar scent hit me. I scoffed at it and closed the bag.
Slinging it over my shoulder, I searched the abandoned campsite for anything else that might be of use to me.
In the other tent, which still looked to be intact, but equally abandoned, I found another bag. It wasn’t a hiking pack. It looked more like a medical bag that one might carry in a hiking pack.
The rest of the pack was gone, so I cautiously, approached the bag. Picking it up, I heard glass clanking against something that I couldn’t quite pick out. I narrowed my eyes as I tried to decide whether I really wanted to know what was in the bag.
By now, I had pieced together who had abandoned the camp, so the chance that I was going to find something in the bag was going to make me angry was high.
However, I knew I was curious and that I probably wouldn’t stop thinking about it until I figured out what was inside.
So, I unzipped the bag and peered inside. Immediately, my eyes searched for the glass and found a medical bottle, with over three quarters of Diazepam. Apparently, this was the tranquilizer he used.
I ground my teeth, but continued my search, trying to think about this far more objectively than I how I was feeling.
The next thing I pulled out was the reason the bottle made the clanging sound; an unsheathed chef’s knife was also positioned carefully in the bag.
There was also a spool of rope, duct tape and a garbage bag.
The horrifying implications of what the guide planned to do with this bag were almost too hard to readily comprehend.
I drew in a deep breath, replaced the contents in the bag and left it where it was.
I sure as hell didn’t want to be caught with this murderous bag of shit.
When I walked out of the tent, I pressed forward, away from the cabin.
I made it about a hundred yards away from the tents when I realized that I was tracking the man. Without even being fully aware of my rash decision, I had continued following the man’s trail, seriously contemplating ending the bastard for good.
However, when I became conscious of what I was doing, I stopped myself, since I didn’t want to complicate anything.
After all, Carrie was safe, so there was no need to find the man. I huffed with rage, glowering into the woods, looking for some sign of the man, to give me a reason to hunt him down.
Although, I was sure he was already gone.
I hoped, for my sanity and for the guy’s lifespan that I never saw him or had a reason to find him again. For now, I was far more concerned with ensuring Carrie wasn’t alone for too long, especially after everything I had found. With or without Jake, I didn’t completely trust that danger wouldn’t find them both if I was out for too long.
Why is that? I thought, slightly distracted by the idea. I had no real reason for feeling such intense emotion when it came to Carrie.
Sure, I didn’t want her to get killed by the psycho guide, but the feelings I had acquired, in such a short span of time were far deeper than simply the preservation of human life.
After all, I didn’t care much about humans to begin with and yet, I cared about this woman.
Between getting so angry at her decision to go into the mountains alone with the guide and the urge I had to make the man pay for what he did to Carrie, I was getting far too involved. I knew that there was a difference between saving her and doing what was necessary to get her home and falling into the trap of making her situation personal.
On more than one occasion, I had not only thought about, but also acted upon the presumption that this was personal; that I had something to protect in Carrie.
I knew I shouldn’t have said anything to her, but that wouldn’t have changed how I felt. I would’ve still had unsubstantiated anger against the situation and if I hadn’t at least told her how I felt, I might have done something I regretted.
Yet, I still wanted a purpose for feeling anything toward this woman. I didn’t owe her anything and she certainly didn’t owe me anything. What was the connection, that I apparently deemed important?
I wasn’t sure and if I couldn’t figure out a good enough reason, I knew that I was going to have to lose these thoughts and urges as soon as possible, or I was doomed.
This was another reason, an active defiance against my feelings.
“I hope the bastard fell into a trap and got eaten alive by a mountain lion,” I thought aloud and turned back toward the cabin.
Even though I had settled on not going after the man, I still found myself focusing on certain aspects along the area surrounding the cabin. I was painfully alert and found distracting potential of an intruder every couple of yards.
Thankfully, I was good at deciphering between animal and human, but I didn’t stop before ensuring that the sound Jake heard the night before really wasn’t anything to worry about.
Chapter 7
Carrie
The large dog seemed to like me a lot. Even when his owner stomped out of the cabin, the dog chose to stay with me, which was comforting, in a way.
I was angry and upset over the argument that Johnathan and I had, and the dog seemed to know that.
I wanted to burst out in tears, first to let out the pent-up emotion that plagued me over exactly what had happened to me and second, because I was upset at the confrontation. However, I didn’t want to cry in front of the dog. While I wasn’t quite sure why that was, considering it was just a dog, I forced my emotion away, swallowing hard.
After Johnathan left, the dog picked his head up and stared at me with wide eyes. I grinned quietly at the dog before sighing.
Carefully, the massive dog picked himself up off the floor and sauntered over to me, before easily resting his head on the side of the bed.
He was so cute and strangely comforting.
I knew I probably shouldn’t touch the dog, but if he was going to attack me, I was sure he would have done it already.
Looking into the dog’s eyes, I couldn’t help but think that he seemed to understand that I was scared. His eyes were huge and for such a large animal, his eyes were gentle and kind.
Carefully, I reached out my hand, letting him smell me. He licked my hand carefully, before diving his snout under my hand, indicating he wanted me to pet him.
Cautiously, I stroked his head. His hair was soft and as I grew more comfortable with the dog, I felt some of my anxiety melt away.
I grinned, “Hi boy…What’s your name?”
At my excited tone, he started wagging his tail and raised up, revealing a tag.
Even though I was unsure of
why I felt this way, I was surprised by seeing a collar and a tag, like a dog who lived in a suburban neighborhood, instead of deep in the mountains.
The bone tag was old and scratched but through the wear, I could make out the simple name: Jake.
“Hi, Jake,” I tried, which caused the dog’s tail to wag more, as he leapt up and licked my face. “Good boy!” I giggled, petting him as he nearly knocked me over, “Yes, who’s a good boy? You’re so friendly!”
Eventually, though, Jake settled back down, laying on the bed next to me, with his large, heavy head in my lap. I pet his head for a few minutes in silence before I started to talk to him again.
“So, what’s the deal with Johnathan? Does he hate me? Does he really think I’m as stupid as he claimed?”
Of course, the dog didn’t answer, but he did seem to be paying attention to me. His big eyes looked up at me, keeping my gaze.
There was something about the dog, as well as my current surroundings that was calming, almost welcoming.
I had never needed a lot and the preference I kept toward this dwelling proved that. Sure, it was a cabin. There was no denying the fact that there were no amenities in it, whatsoever. The fireplace truly seemed to be the only source of light and everything about the cabin was quaint. It was only one room, with everything but a bathroom. That was a small, closet-like space with a toilet, sink and shower crammed into what was obviously an addition.
However, despite the obvious lack of amenities, there was nothing that I found unsettling about the cabin. In fact, for a man, living in the middle of a mountain range with only his dog, the cabin was surprisingly well-kept. The floor was clean, the windows were washed and even the bathroom seemed to be tided on a regular basis.
There were some dorms at the college where I went that were far messier than this cabin.
While I found it strange, I would’ve found a disgusting residence far more unsettling.
I didn’t have much experience with serial killers, besides the psychological reference I was taught in my classes, I couldn’t believe that Johnathan quite fit the mold.
In fact, there was part of me that enjoyed the quiet space. I had thought that being in the mountains would give me peace, but it ended up being the most stressful experience of my life.
Yet, being right here, in the cabin with Jake, was surprisingly relaxing.
While I was angry with Johnathan, I wasn’t afraid of him.
Once I calmed down, I didn’t even blame him for reacting like he had. I figured that after everything he did, for me to accuse him of something like that wasn’t fair. I decided that when Johnathan returned, I would apologize for being so mean.
Intermittently, Jake and I would play, which was hilarious, watching him get over-excited when I would toss his stick as far as I could in the small area.
It was like watching a bear tearing through the cabin. Yet, he was careful not to lose control. No matter what I did, he was able to return the stick without hurting himself or anything in the cabin.
Eventually, though, I would get tired, as I guessed I was still healing quite a bit. When I did, the dog would climb up on the bed with me and lay down.
We may have napped for a little while, but for the most part, he just stayed by my side, comforting me.
When Johnathan returned, I could tell right away that he was much calmer.
As he entered, Jake pulled his head up off my lap to stare at him, as though he disapproved of him being gone for so long. Although, after the initial scowl, he placed his head back on my lap.
“Well, somebody found a friend,” Johnathan grinned, now trying to be more hospitable.
“Yes, he’s been very comforting,” I replied, affectionately stroking his large ear.
“Yeah, for the most part, he’s a big mush. He’s a good protector, but you’d never know it unless you’ve seen him in action.”
“Oh, I believe it. I grew up around dogs. I get it,” I answered.
“Sorry I was gone so long. I was doing a perimeter check…” His voice trailed off there, though I wasn’t quite sure why until I noticed that the pack he was carrying looked extremely familiar.
“Is that mine?” I asked, not sure if I really wanted to know the answer.
“Yeah, I think so,” he replied, dropping it next to the bed. When I looked up at him, his grin returned as he added, “At least you have a change of clothes now.”
“Thank you,” I replied, not quite sure what to think. Of course, I was happy to have my belongings back, but I couldn’t understand why he was at the campsite. “This included a pretty big perimeter,” I retorted.
“Yeah, I like to be thorough,” he replied in a cool tone, not even bothering to take the bait, though I was sure he recognized it.
“So, did you find anything else? In your perimeter check?”
“No,” he insisted, though his jaw tightened angrily, and I got the sense he was lying. Yet, from the darkness that swirled in his eyes, I wasn’t about to question him.
At this point, if he had killed the man who attacked me, I couldn’t say I would be particularly upset about it.
If he had, I supposed I wouldn’t have to worry about him coming after me again, but then again, that would also mean I was still trapped in the mountains with a murderer.
So, between the two, I knew when I felt better, I would prefer not to be trapped with a murderer, even if the other psycho was still running free.
“Well, thank you,” I offered, “For bringing my stuff back to me. I really appreciate it.”
He shook his head curtly, “I thought you might want it. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to save your tent…”
Flashbacks of feeling trapped as I tried to go through it, attempting get away from the guide tore through my brain. I shook my head, to get the image out of my mind, but quickly covered my strange reaction with a comment, “No, I know. It’s fine. The bag is much more important.”
Jonathan stared at me, as though he was about to comment on my strange reaction but decided against it at the last moment. Instead, he didn’t respond. He just went about his business, so I started to go through my things, seeing exactly what was there.
In a way, looking at the clothes and the things that I had packed before my whole world was flipped upside down was odd.
It almost felt as though I wasn’t even looking at my belongings. It felt as though this belonged to someone else, who simply had the same style and size as I did.
For the first time since this whole ordeal happened, I finally realized the enormity of it. I thought about what happened and what could’ve happened, if Johnathan wasn’t there to help me.
I felt my breath quiver with fear, as I glared down at the brightly-colored, summer clothing that I wasn’t sure I would ever want to wear again.
I stared at the clothing, I guess for an obnoxiously long time, contemplating how long it would take for me to actually feel like myself again.
“That is yours, right?” Johnathan asked me, breaking the morbid, disturbing connection I was creating with the outfit in my hand.
“Yeah. It’s mine,” I answered, though my voice seemed far away.
At first, the man seemed as though he was contemplating going about his business, but the tone of voice that accompanied my response caused him to turn back around.
“Okay, what is it?” He asked, sitting down on the chair across from me.
“What do you mean?” I asked, even though I knew exactly what he was referring to.
“You’re looking at that shirt like it’s going to attack you. I don’t want to care, but I’m involved, so what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s…just…I never liked this shirt,” I lied.
“Oh, bullshit,” he insisted, which caused me to perk up a little, surprised by his harsh reaction, though I felt I should be used it by now. “You and I both know that the shirt triggered something. So, you should probably talk about it.”
“You don’t want to hear about it,”
I replied, “It’s probably nothing.”
“You’re right. I don’t want to hear about it, but that’s because I’m a selfish dick. Right now, I’m asking you about it, so you should tell me, and I will try my best to give some advice.”
“Why should I tell you if you don’t want to talk about it?”
“Because, right now, by some strange twist of fate, I’m all you have, so speak.”
I made a face at him, narrowing my eyes slightly, “You don’t have a very good bedside manner.”
“You think I don’t know that?” He hissed, “Another thing I know, is that you’re trying to get off subject, so you don’t have to talk about whatever is bothering you and I’m not going to let you do that, so talk.”
I grinned, feeling slightly silly, having been caught. Even though he was rough and, as he said, kind of an asshole, I couldn’t help but be attracted to him.
He angered me…a lot and I couldn’t decide if he was crazy or just didn’t care about anything, like his attitude suggested, but below all of that, everything he seemed to do was for the right reason.
For instance, I knew that he had gone out of his way to find my pack for me. I wasn’t sure why he had done it, or if that was his plan when he walked out the door, but he didn’t have to do that.