Wolfe (10 page)

Wolfe

“We’re going to stay here a while, until I figure things out.”

Kiara hadn’t spoken since I’d killed the two muggers. I didn’t exactly blame her. That’d be traumatic for most, maybe even more so for a nurse. Didn’t change why I did it or my feelings. I did it because they needed killing.

The place...this was Magnus’s, for sure. I’d remembered the road in, even if it mostly petered out the last hundred yards and I’d had to forge through the overgrown shrubs while keeping a close eye on the ground. Only thing that’d saved this from being swallowed by trees was that much of it was on bedrock and the plants were growing in thin soil. I parked the SUV under some trees and nose-in to a heavy growth of some green shrub.

On the outside, the cabin looked ready to fall over the edge of the mountain that was ten yards to the left. Brick and timber construction, and a roof that had a few bits of trees collapsed over it.

“Looks done for.” Her first words for ages.

“Magnus was a survivalist. This is made to look old. Built on the shell of an abandoned cabin. Behind that is new brick and some concrete.”

I peered through the glass of the windshield one last time before popping open the door and slipping out. A raccoon scampered down a rotten tree trunk that lay propped at the right corner of the cabin, then ran off.

In the last shine of daylight, some of the leafless branches looked golden. Parts were starting to lift off, like scales barely adhering to skin. They shook, eager to float.

That...not good.

I needed food. It seemed to stave off the signs of the crazies.

The front door had tons of leaves and crap piled up to it. I ripped away some dangling plants and bent on one knee. Memories said the key was under all this. Under the welcome mat...which was probably not here anymore.

“What, are you doing?”

“Welcome mat.” I tunneled my hand down through dirt, more dirt, then some roots, and found the edge of something synthetic, which I flapped about to loosen then ripped up and out. The wonders of modern science. I had an entire green, still
bright
green, mat in my hand.

“You’re joking? Way up here in the beyond... He has a key under a mat?”

“Yup.” Metal found my hand, a ring of it. Which meant... I dragged the metal out through the loosened soil. Triumphant, I held up the key.

“Incredible.”

At least she was talking.

I straightened and rubbed my forehead, keeping the colors at bay by concentrating hard. Then I ripped away the door, which fell to pieces. Behind was his real door. Metal. Somewhat rusted but solid. After I cleaned the key with rubbing, spit, and more spit and rubbing, I inserted it in the lock. A miracle, but it turned first go. After one shoulder-charge, the door swung in...revealing darkness.

“I need to get some food in me. Starting to feel odd.”

The visions of blood and slaughtered women still spattered my waking hours, and my nightmares. I’d rather keep them at bay.

“Oh.” The alarm in her eyes said it worried her as much as me. Guess she’d noticed. “I’ll be back. Wait there.”

“Bring a flashlight!”

I watched her ass as she ran back to the vehicle. Never failed to stir me – she had the perfect shape for groping, biting. Taking her down, stripping her, and fucking her from behind with leaf litter crunching under her, it’d be fun.

I
should
be checking the building.

The inside was clean of plant growth, no cracks in the ceiling, just dust and a lingering odor of smoke. All the heavy timbers up there in the roof had done the trick and stopped the weight of the debris from caving it in.

“So many years,” I muttered. “And I can still smell smoke.”

“I can’t.” Kiara was at my shoulder, checking out the interior too. “Are you sure? Come back to the SUV. I have some cans opened.”

Maybe I imagined it. Smoke molecules wouldn’t last that long.

We ate beans and canned sausages outside, sitting in the car, while swigging beer and bottled water to chase down the food.

“I’m going soon.”

“What? Where?” She lowered her spoon. “It’s nearly night.”

“That’s why I’m hurrying. I need to see the road and I have to find the secondary road into town. Can’t use the one we came in on. The cops are likely there by now.”

“You are going to leave me here? For how long? Hours?”

“All night.
Shhh
.” It was for the best. “The shutters need opening so I’ll get the tire lever and shovel and knock them loose before I leave. But then I go. I want to get supplies and I can stay hidden down there even better at night.”

I’d find someone with what I needed. Always easier not to be noticed at night. I’d walk into town from just outside and feel my way. “There’ll be a woman I can use.”

“Use?” She stilled. “But, you’re leaving me here? At night. Without transport?”

I hopped out of the car. “You’re not going anywhere anyway. You’ll be fine. There’s nothing up here that’ll eat you. It’ll be cold though.”

“Damn right it will.”

“Once in the house, go to sleep. I’ll be back in the morning with food, a generator, whatever I can find.” This would be a test, of sorts. May as well find out if she could disobey me. I didn’t think she would, or could. “Don’t go outside.”

“Not even to pee? Jeez.”

“For that, yeah, just be careful of the bogeyman.”

Up here, getting lost on the mountain at night would be a sure way to die.

I’d be lucky not to drive off the cliff as it was, getting back down to a good road.

I had a flash vision of the SUV curving down over a great height, nose down, falling. Then another, of her here by herself, unable to leave, and slowly starving as the trees once more grew their tendrils and roots over the cabin, sealing her in.

Fun, fun, fun.

Evil was waiting to crack its way into me. I wouldn’t let it in. Ever.

She’d be fine, I told myself, as I maneuvered through the scrubby plants clinging to life on the bedrock. I’d left her with plenty of warm bedding, the flashlight, and instructions to stay there and sleep until morning. There was nothing on this mountain that’d hurt a woman locked up in a house. Nothing except another man, like myself, and no one knew she was there.

Kiara

Waking in the morning was a relief. His order to sleep had helped, but even so I’d packed a good amount of terror into the minutes before I finally succumbed. I’d thought about leaving anyway, for all of thirty seconds. However, going out there and falling off a precipice while stumbling around in the dark was not on my bucket list. Command or not.

Could I have done it? Slowly, I sat up and stared at the door where light managed to render it in an outline of searing yellow. The hinges and jamb had kept out the elements for many years, from the looks of this place, but light managed to sneak past the steel. And it was steel in parts, as if this Magnus had expected a rocket attack. I guess shit might happen during the next apocalypse but this’d be the last place to be visited by zombies.

That was probably the whole point.

I rolled out of bed, feeling the aches where the hard floor had dug in. Last night, looking around by flashlight had been enough to convince me there were no obvious monsters in here. Daylight made me want to explore further.

To the right of the door, where Wolfe had levered the shutters out a few inches, more shafts of light pricked at my eyes. Blearily, I staggered to my feet and stood listening.

Just bird noises out there, trees swishing and rattling branches, some creaking as the cabin stretched itself. Before eating me.
Haha.

When would Wolfe be back? I had no idea. I just wished he’d be here soon, or else the medication would be so low in his blood that anything might happen. I hugged myself. The old flannelette shirt made me feel like some country hunter trapper hobo. The short shorts made my legs cold but if I put on some shoes, I’d be fine. Minus cold feet, I preferred wearing shorts. Unless the weather hit under fifty-five. Or I was running through things that’d scratch my legs...like down in the Pine Barrens.

That night would be forever scored into my mind.

I opened the door and stood shading my eyes and squinting a while. Nothing moved among the trees to the left, and the sky beckoned me with its blueness to the right where the land fell away to nothing. At least this place had been constructed on rock and wouldn’t slide away in an avalanche...unless one started above. The mountain peak was behind the cabin. The tree line was far above this height, but it hadn’t happened yet. The cabin was still here, after years, or so Wolfe thought.

How did he know how long it was since he’d been here? It could be a hundred years, if that were possible. The man was lost, no past, just the
now
. Unless he’d remembered a lot more and hadn’t said?

My legs almost made me want to walk out there and keep going down the road. I tried a step, knew my bladder was full and I needed to pee. He’d said I could leave for that but what about more?

I edged another few steps onto the mostly grassless area. More? I stared down at my stupid unmoving legs. Apparently not. A line existed I couldn’t cross.

Damn.

What if he died or got lost or arrested, or
anything
that meant he couldn’t come back?

I’d be stuck here forever.

Shut up.

Shut up for god’s sake.

I was spinning out a little here, feeling faint. I had to keep functioning. The ringing faded from my ears. I gulped once and centered myself, put my hand on my chest, as if to calm my thumping heart.

Okay, pee, then a breakfast of cereal, and that icky long-life milk, then... I could explore the cabin. I turned and looked into the interior, now quite illuminated from the light entering through the door.

Yes.

The shutters, big metal things, could be moved out some more too, though whatever shutters shielded the other windows would have to stay put – I’d seen the strength Wolfe had used to get the front ones to open. His biceps had bulged most impressively. Even his legs had thickened as he’d tensed and thrust into the ground to get a good position of strength.

The man...impressed me.

Scared me.

Did both sometimes. Shooting those two had been the worst. Even so, Wolfe didn’t seem to plan to be destructive. Maybe I should truly listen and get his side of things and why he had done it?

Munching on corn flakes let me think through a few things. I sat with my back propped on the doorway, with the sleeping bag insulating my skin from the cold metal and the stone floor. The light washing in from the windows revealed the front room. A kitchen slash dining area.

It was all so caught in time – a bowl of shriveled fruit. A glass on the table. A butter knife on the floor. Someone had left in a hurry, perhaps. There might be other reasons.

I just liked postulating. Sherlock Holmes, eat my dust.

With the drug in him, Wolfe was still unpredictable. A bad man at times, yes. A homicidal crazy? He’d only killed when provoked, with guns in his face. That wasn’t
bad
bad. What he’d done to me that night had been crazier. How many times had he made me come? Being scared
and
turned on had likely warped my memory. When I thought back, I could feel my arousal building. That was sick, wasn’t it?

I couldn’t even blame it on Stockholm Syndrome. It was just
him
.

“Fuck it.” I scrambled upright, untangled from the sleeping bag, then placed the bowl and spoon just outside the door. Those needed cleaning and I had no idea how or where to get water. Apart from the drinking water.

I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t do what a normal person should do – run.

Okay. Be calm.

Nothing to be done, nowhere to go anyway. This was a desolate mountain in the middle of nowhere in Minnesota. Fine. I had the mind of a ferret or something. I loved poking around and figuring things out, and Wolfe had barely given me any info about this Magnus guy.

I wasn’t going to find a phone here, but there might be something I could use?

I shut the door first – no use letting in some wild animal. Then I switched on my flashlight though I didn’t need it yet.

This first room, that went the width of the cabin, held a wood-fired oven, a solid timber table, a long counter below the window, a sink with a faucet connected to a pipe – which meant water had to come from somewhere. I turned the faucet and nothing arrived, of course. The water had probably dried up long ago but maybe there was a tank somewhere? Strangely there was an electric light fitting, a bulb, in the ceiling, as well as an old oil lantern on the wall. I guessed that would’ve been fired with kerosene? My camping knowledge wasn’t the best.

A door on the right led into a short, very dark hallway and I raised the flashlight, finding another door to the left leading into what seemed a living room. Here there were dusty, moldy couches, a table, a fireplace, and walls filled with books. Some of the books had toppled to the floor, others had been left in piles. If I’d been asthmatic, I’d have been wheezing by now. The mold and smoke smell was thick.

Being so closed-in must’ve preserved the smell.

The fireplace at the back wall was heaped with ashes and the ceiling and walls nearby had been blackened by smoke. Someone had lit a big fire that’d not ventilated well. Maybe they’d thrown on too much? The ashes had lumps that made me wonder if all of it had burned. Pale things, metallic objects too, poked above the general heap of blackness and my heart did an excited pitter pat. That might’ve been done at the last minute. I mean, who fired up this sort of rubbish and let it smother their house in smoke?

To me, little curiosity cat, this was like a Christmas present. I might find out stuff Wolfe would never say. Though I kneeled before the fireplace for a closer look, I didn’t touch. I grinned. Check out the rest then come back to this.

Another door, opposite where I’d entered, led into a bedroom. Double bed – a perfectly made bed that had been turned gray by the years and when I plonked my ass on it the dust billowed up.

Both in here and the library room, there were still-shuttered windows. Apart from a collapsed cupboard, there was a bedside table with three drawers. I pulled one out slowly, praying it wasn’t made of the same inferior materials as the cupboard.

Inside was a gun. A big, fat revolver. If I picked it up, it didn’t mean I’d have to use it on him. That was my first thought, and it rang in my head like a bell.

Don’t do anything I wouldn’t like.
Those words resonated. He’d said them
days
ago.

I was pretty certain he’d pick up a gun, I told myself, very firmly, hammering in that logic.

Slowly, I reached out and wrapped my fingers around the body of the gun. Dust had sifted in and clung to oil on the surface that’d since turned stiff with all the material clogging it. I could wipe it away with a fingertip to show the metal beneath was clear of rust.

Was it loaded?

I blinked and thought that through. I didn’t actually know how to shoot or use a gun. Fuck me though, wish I’d learned.

Hand shaking because of his words, I carried the gun out of the room and placed it on the floor beside the fireplace. Give myself some time and I might convince my brain to look at the weapon without shutting down.

I left the flashlight on but set it on the floor too, so it lit up the fireplace.

I couldn’t shoot him, could I? I’d freeze up. The thing lay there, all fat and useless.

My sigh was long. No. I couldn’t. Not physically, not morally. It didn’t sit right. Maybe if he went to do something nasty...like beating my ass and back until I screamed?

Maybe?

Or not.

My parents could end up in prison if I couldn’t see a way out of this. If I shot him...there went my leverage with the Russians too.

My bottom lip turned down and I screwed up my nose, as I tried to wrestle with all the permutations.

I was so messed up.

The fireplace poker lay near my knee. Rust dropped away and stained my hand when I picked it up. I broke down the long, solidified mass of ashes and burned papers, looking for anything left intact enough to identify. The air filled with motes of ash and I sneezed a few times then kept looking.

There was a charred journal and a slim, silver container that might’ve been an antique cigarette case, though the heat had melted the fine catch and the hinges. To get it open, I’d need to use a knife in the seam.

I found a dusty cloth on one of two small tables and wiped the case and what was left of the book. Half the pages were a mess of black and the rest were stuck together. Then I sifted through some of the rubbish beneath the center of the ashes. I wasn’t plunging my hands in there, so I inserted the poker then dragged it back. The fifth time, a small object came with it.

I held it square in the light, rotated it. Mostly black but...

As a nurse, I knew in a half second, I’d found a small bone. Finger sized, in fact. My heart ticked over as my eyes refused to believe what I thought I held. Though crushed at one end, this seemed to be a finger bone. I scratched away ash and polished the surface, and underneath was paleness. Light in weight and the shape of it was a dead giveaway. Bone, for sure.

Why was there a part of a finger from a human in this fireplace?

Ancient history, but fascinating.

I slipped the bone into my shorts pocket, grabbed the book and the case, then rose to my feet. The stone had dug into me and my knees ached, but a question overrode the discomfort.

Should I ask Wolfe about this when he returned? Some terrible accident might’ve occurred in the past. He might not have been here though, or heard of it. No crime that came to the attention of the police, where someone lost a finger, would leave the remains of the finger here. Even if not a crime, you just wouldn’t do it, surely? It had to be unknown, a secret.

I’d still ask him.

The book, though, and the case? I wanted to hide those. I went to and fro on that. They could be innocent things, so it’d be perfectly okay to put them away somewhere. And the gun? My coerced conscience prompted. Would Wolfe be okay with me hiding
that
?

Crap.
I swallowed. No. I couldn’t logic away that one.

I walked back out to the kitchen and tucked the book and the case into a bottom drawer at the counter, the lowest one of four drawers and next to the floor. I shut it with my foot then weighed the gun in my hand. The temptation was strong and still I couldn’t make myself hide it.

The front door banged open and Wolfe strode in – wild look in his eyes, a pack dangling from one fist, the keys from the car jangling in the other.

That distant rumbling my mind had barely noticed, had been the SUV returning.

“What is that?”

Panicked already, I looked at the revolver then at him. I thrust it at him, trigger guard presented first. “I found it. I was going to give it to you. I swear. Here.” Again, I gestured with the gun.

Pack and keys were dropped at his feet, then he took one long stride and engulfed my gun-holding hand with his.

The gun was wrenched from my hand and tossed backward, skidding on stone.