by Sara Clancy
She was being watched.
The shadows suddenly seemed filled with eyes as a million unseen creatures. As the silence continued to stretch out, unbroken by even the chirping of an insect, she couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t just things within the woods that were watching her. It was the woods itself.
“Ruby.”
It was spoken as a sigh, a breath, and her eyes widened to hear it. It’s just the wind, she told herself. But the leaves didn’t rattle and there wasn’t the slightest gust upon her skin.
“Ruby.”
A twig snapped, the distance from her impossible to tell. She took another step back, still unable to believe what she was hearing. Cool sweat prickled along the base of her neck as she scanned the forest around her. The shadows and trunks played tricks on her eyes. Everything within her peripheral vision seemed to creep forward only to still once more when she fixed her gaze upon them.
“Ruby.”
While the voice was still barely more than a whisper, it was clearer now, and distinctly childlike. Working on reflex, she opened her mouth, ready to call out to the child that was lost somewhere within the bushes. Another twig snapped and the words choked off in her throat. The sound came from barely a few feet to her side, but the forest held its secrets. Everything remained silent. Still. The sensation of being watched grew stronger and more menacing.
Panting harshly, she slowly inched her foot back. A cold wind swept up her spine. As it reached her neck, the sensation changed, spreading out and solidifying. Soon, it enclosed around the back of her neck, as firm and solid and real as a human hand. It squeezed.
Twisting around on her heel, Ruby found the area as empty as it had been, with just the ghostly light of the dog yard playing in the gathering darkness. She bolted for them. Her boots thundered against the leaves and muck, crunching and sloshing, the wet earth sucking at the soles of her shoes as if to trip her. Thorns slashed at her as she raced through the brush, gouging at her clothes and streaking across the backs of her hands. Too numb with both cold and fear to feel the pain, she barreled, forcing her legs faster and away from the demonic twists of shadows closing in upon her. Smothering her. Trapping her.
With a staggered cry and weak legs, she stumbled free from the tree line. The floodlights blinded her and she lifted one arm to shield her eyes from the glare. She didn’t stop running until she was back within the brilliantly lit yard, surrounded by the dog houses. The silence remained, broken now only by her panted breaths and for one moment, she was sure all of the dogs were gone. Her eyes adjusted and she blinked out over the area. A clink of chains drew her attention and one of the dogs poked his head out from the open door of his dog house. Raising its nose up, it sniffed at the air once and then drew back inside, leaving her once again alone in the silence.
Ruby’s ribs ached as her heart thundered against them. Her hands felt empty and her back exposed. Opening and closing her fists, she studied the tree line. The impenetrable darkness offered little in return. Just possibilities, deathly silences, and the unwavering certainty that someone was watching her.
A scream ripped out of her as the forest burst forth, leaves exploding up into a cloud of debris while a blur of light barreled towards her. Ruby staggered back as she flung her arms up to protect her face. Bannock barked, the sharp sound drawing the other creatures back into life. The insects chirped. The wind rustled the leaves. And the dog yard was once more home to a flurry of sound and movement. The dogs squirmed free of their houses, their chains rattling and tails wagging. Bannock bounded around them, riling them up with every pass until he came to stand by Ruby’s feet.
Dropping to her knees, she bundled the dog into a tight hug. The sensation of his soft fur slipping through her fingers, of his radiating warmth and pounding heartbeat, helped her mind to settle reality from fantasy. In time, he protested the treatment and tried to squirm free. A scratch behind the ears kept him close as Ruby let her heartbeat settle and her pain ebb away. She had never been in the woods before, let alone at night. There was sure to be a lot of normal occurrences that left her reeling.
Maybe there had been a wolf, she thought. A predator scoping out the area would explain why the dogs had gone into hiding. Or should they have been louder? She couldn’t fairly remember what Aaron and Betsy had told her, and she supposed that it didn’t matter now. She still had to find Snow.
With one last hug, which Bannock gallantly if not begrudgingly accepted, Ruby got to her feet. Bathed in the off white glow of the floodlights, it was easier to be calm. To feel centered and protected. The sounds of the dogs also helped to ease her nerves.
Let’s do this again, she thought. Only this time like you actually have a functioning brain. Okay, so, light. And a shotgun. Where did Betsy say she kept the flashlights again?
It didn’t matter much when she turned her attention over the paddock. An insistent whimper drew her attention and she found Snow circling in front of the playpen. On each pass, she would grumble and rise onto her hind legs, her front paws scratching at the latch like she was trying to open it herself. Ruby crossed the yard. With each step, the dogs closest to her would rush out and nuzzle at her hands. When she passed, they would retreat once more. They didn’t go into their dog houses, but they never strayed too far from the entrance.
Bannock was at her side when she finally reached Snow. Her concerns that he would rile her up again proved to be pointless. Snow completely ignored him. It was the latch that had the dog’s full attention and she scratched at it with more conviction as Ruby drew near. The metal of the gate was like ice as she pulled at the latch. It clunked up. Before the door had time to swing wide, Snow nuzzled her way in. Fire rushed to meet her and the two dogs curled around each other in the middle of the gated area.
“I guess you don’t like her running off either, huh, Fire?” Ruby said.
Fire barely spared her a passing glance and he shuffled more tightly around the fluffy dog beside him. Once they settled, they looked like a single mound of fur. Ruby closed the latch and her eyes drifted up to the far side of the playpen. To the forest that pressed in against the fence, a few stray branches poking through the metal mesh like searching fingers. The darkness gave few secrets away and the feeling of being watched crept over her skin once more.
“Bannock,” she whispered as she blindly reached for the dog, “stay close, okay?”
A cold wet nose nuzzled against her palm in answer. Finally tearing her eyes away from the shadows, Ruby set out across the yard at a quick pace. The cabin stood in the far corner of the clearing. Everything would seem better once she had a full stomach and a warm blanket, with Bannock by her side and a fire driving the shadows away.
Chapter 3
Ruby opened the cabin door and was greeted by a flood of icy air. By the glow of the floodlights, she groped for the light switch. She vaguely remembered Aaron telling her that the cabin was also wired to the generator, although it was best not to run the yard lights and the internal lights together for hours on end. It wasted too much gas. Her numb fingertips found the protruding switch, and making sure to squint first, she flicked it on. She needn’t have gone to the trouble to protect her eyes. The single bulb that flickered to life was barely brighter than the light of a few candles.
Bannock slipped past her legs and padded into the cabin. Narrow and short, the wood walls offered a limited space. Most of it was taken up by the bed. Pressed against the far corner, just below a window, the queen-sized bed was made up with two pillows and a thick sleeping bag. A table, hardly big enough to accommodate the two seats tucked around it, lay just beyond the threshold. She only had to pull one chair out half an inch to keep the door flattened against the wall. To her right, there was what could pass for a kitchenette. A sink, a few cupboards, and a little bit of bench space. Beyond it, tucked into the corner but still only a few feet away from the end of the bed, was a cast iron fireplace. The belly of it was round and plump, the top flat and big enough to rest a saucepan.<
br />
Kindling, she reminded herself as she searched around the fireplace. The dim light didn’t allow much to go by, but she managed to uncover a stack of wood and a box of scrunched up newspaper. Creating a little mound of paper, she carefully formed a teepee of sticks. It was easy to remember how it had looked when Aaron had done it. And a lot harder to get her frozen fingers to recreate it. Eventually, the pyre was formed and the crumpled paper took on the flame from the small pack of matches that had been left on the corner of the wood pile.
It didn’t take long for the fire to grow. It greedily swallowed up the larger pieces of wood that she fed it. A golden light spilled out from the open iron door of the fireplace. It claimed every corner quickly. The warmth that followed took far longer. Crouching down, she checked the large container under the sink. There wasn’t much water in it, but there was some, more than enough for a cup of coffee. The handle of the saucepan felt like dry ice against her bare skin. The pump of the sink wasn’t much better. As she pressed and pulled, the pipes released a groan that both rattled and slurped, the water gushing free in broken bursts.
Setting the saucepan to boil, Ruby fed the fire once more and then left to bring her suitcases inside. The fly screen door thumped back into place with a loud crack each time she passed through. It was odd how comforting she found that. The woods were still alive with sound, bugs and owls, and small creatures that scurried through the undergrowth. But none of it seemed reliable. It could disappear again just like it had before. The slam of the screen door came without fail.
She ended up having to pile her suitcases, one on top of the other, in the corner next to the bed. They still ate up the space, but at least there was room to move. Bannock claimed another hunk of her floor. Curled up before the fire, he refused to move, forcing her to step over him to get from the fire to the sink and back.
“You literally have a fur coat,” she grumbled at the dog.
He lifted his eyes to her but didn’t bother to raise his head. Looking through the cupboards and bags, she managed to find a mug and one of the instant coffee packets she had taken from the train. A pleasant scent filled the cabin as she combined them and set the mug aside to cool. There was enough water remaining that Ruby decided a sponge bath was in order. She hadn’t even spent a full night out here yet and already the idea felt decadent. Steam rose from the cloth that she dabbed into the water and heat flooded her skin at its touch. The hard part wasn’t getting clean. It was getting back into her clothes fast enough so that she didn’t lose all the warmth she had gained.
Switching over her shirt for her fleece pajama top had been a disaster. Still cursing the cold and shivering, she decided that a much faster pace was needed for switching over her pants. The second she lowered them, exposing her once protected skin to the air, the decision was made to go one leg at a time. She wiped the warm damp cloth over her right leg. An owl hooted. Bugs called to one another. The fire crackled. And, just outside her window, a twig snapped.
Ruby bolted upright, her hands clenching tightly around the different cloths. She held her breath. Strained to hear. But there were only the common, repetitive sounds of the night. Still, her stomach churned, and the paranoid feeling of being watched settled into her chest once again. In the distance, she could hear the dogs padding around, their chains tinkling slightly. Slowly, she returned to her task. Her pace was far faster than before and she finished off her left leg in a few quick swipes. The elastic of her pants had barely touched her waist when a branch moved, its leaves and twigs scraping against the window behind her.
The floodlights didn’t reach behind the cabin. So when she spun and looked out of the back window, all she could see were layers of shadows shifting against one another. Her heart lurched in her throat as she froze in place and stared at the glass.
It’s so dark, she thought. Someone could be standing right there and I’ll never see them.
The thought entered her mind, bringing with it a flood of paranoia and ideas. She could almost feel the gaze of someone upon her, watching her, tracking her every movement with crazed eyes. Swallowing thickly, she tried to push it all aside. But the mental images lingered and fed her imagination.
People went missing here before.
Barely a muscle in her body moved. The war she raged was all in her head and in getting her mind to obey her and reason. She had almost managed to calm herself down when another rustle of movement caught her. A footstep. Just outside the door.
She whipped around, almost tripping over her feet in her haste, a cold lump forming within the pit of her stomach. There was no window at the front of the cabin and somehow that just made it worse. She stepped back, ready to chastise herself once more for being a silly little coward. Bannock’s growl stopped her. It was low and menacing, and his eyes locked on the slender door of the cabin. Something shuffled on the other side of the wood and Bannock shot up onto his feet. The scruff of his neck bristled as he lowered his head. Still growling. Still staring at the door.
Ruby stared too, her attention fixed on the little latch that served as a lock. With limbs full of stone and fear rebounding around her chest, she inched her foot forward. Bannock’s snarl grew steadily louder. His lips pulled back, the tips of his fangs glistening in the firelight. There was a crunch outside and Ruby flung herself against the door. Holding it in place with her eyes, she slid the lock into place and staggered back. Three solid knocks made the wood quake within its frame.
Where is the gun? The thought came unbidden to her mind as Bannock braced his forelegs and released a guttural growl. She caught sight of the shotgun by the door, tucked away on a specially built shelf. Her hands were numb, along with the rest of her, as she reached out for it.
“Ruby Dawson, you in there?” The voice was rough and gravelly and while she strained against her brain to find any hint of meaning to it, she was sure she didn’t recognize it. The door rattled again. “Ruby? I’m Peter Martin, your neighbor. I heard the dogs get up in a fuss and thought you might need some help.”
Don’t move. Don’t speak. The mantra had kept her well out of harm’s way over the years, even if it did lead to some awkward situations. It was refreshing to have someone else’s judgment to fall back on. Even if it was just the judgment of a dog. Turning her eyes from the door, she glanced over to Bannock. He still seemed interested in their visitor, but his hair had smoothed and he was no longer panting, his tongue dangling from the side of his snout. Well, if he’s not growling, it should be okay. Right?
“You okay in there?” Peter said.
“Just getting changed,” Ruby stammered as she cast her eyes over to Bannock again, watching his reaction as she took a step closer to the door.
He lumbered up onto his elongated legs and trotted a step closer. Either he was interested in greeting Peter or he had plans to bolt again. It was hard to tell. But, for all appearances, he had an opinion, which was more than she had, so she decided to follow his lead for now.
Peter remained silent as Ruby approached the door. Bannock trotted closer and became a warm weight against her leg as she opened the door a crack. A hand instantly smacked against the wood and tried to force it back some more. Ruby instantly shoved back, but it was her foot that kept it in place. Biting back a hiss, she could feel the first trickles of blood seeping into her sock.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Peter said.
Ruby’s stomach dropped into the heels of her feet. Squeezing her eyes shut and bracing herself against the door, she rolled the words over and over in her head. It didn’t make any difference. Any hint of threat the words might have held were just as lost on her as any playful teasing. In that moment, she felt the distance between her and the town. Felt each mile of isolation. Peter shoved again, widening the gap enough that Bannock could shove his head through, and Ruby braced her shoulder to keep it from moving any more.
“Is something wrong with the door? This place is falling apart. I can have a look at it for you if you want. Just l
et me in.”
“I don’t want Bannock to get out,” Ruby said in a rush. “He was acting up earlier.”
“I get it.”
There was a soft chuckle. Is he laughing with me or at me?
“Hey, why don’t you get into the gap so we can at least meet face to face? I feel kind of rude like this.”
It was impossible to slip into sight and keep her weight against the door. Her stomach twisted into knots as she checked again with Bannock. All she could see was mild curiosity in the animal’s behavior, so she shuffled slightly and peeked around the edge. The floodlights pressed against Peter’s back, shrouding his face in shadows but making his size startlingly clear. He was a giant of a man. Robust and wide and tall enough that he would have to stoop to fit through the doorway. His jaw was covered in a thick beard, the mat of wiry hair concealing his features and hanging down his neck. She was so caught off guard by his appearance that it took her a moment to notice the rifle in his hands.
“Well, there you are. Aren’t you a pretty little thing?”
Ruby saw a flash of teeth within the thick bush of mattered hair. She chanced a glance behind him, only daring to look away for a split second.
“I didn’t hear your car,” she said.
“Didn’t bring one.”
That made her swallow hard and her fingers tightened her grip on the door. “Aaron and Betsy told me that your place is pretty far off.”
Why would you be here without a car? Why would you be here at all? Was it you who was watching me in the woods? The flurry of questions was shoved to the back of her mind as one took pride of place. Was that you behind the cabin?