Seeing Ethan tease him, Evan gritted his teeth and turned away. He knew his girlfriend could be provocative at times, and he sometimes reacted aggressively, but when it came to Ethan, he was still afraid of being humiliated again.
As Francine loosened her grip, she slowly ran her hand over Ethan's abdominal muscles several times.
—Are you done? —Ethan asked.
A little embarrassed, she stepped back twice, putting some distance between them. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a blunt.
—As a thank-you, I'll give you something good. This is the best stuff you can get.
Watching Francine from the side, Daria laughed.
—No, thanks, sweetheart. I don't smoke weed —Ethan replied, shaking his head and gently pushing Francine's hand away. Then he walked on with his arm around Daria, who was still chuckling under her breath.
Francine shrugged, lit the blunt, and exhaled a curl of smoke through her pretty red lips. Holding it between her lips, she opened the car door, took out a bottle of brandy, and returned to Evan. They both sat on the hood of the white truck.
—Evan and I will be here, waiting for your good news! —Francine called, raising the bottle toward the retreating group.
Carly, who was wearing a blue vest, turned around, her ponytail swinging.
—Should we make them come with us?
—You know they like spending their time like this. Do you really think they'd want to leave? —replied Scott, the curly-haired man. He undid a button on his short-sleeved shirt, then cupped his hands around his mouth and called back to them—. Take care! Don't smoke too much!
Francine passed the blunt to Evan and called after them teasingly:
—Okay! Enjoy your walk!
—I thought you'd confiscate the weed —Daria said with a smile, taking off her cap and drinking from the bottle of wine Ethan had given her.
—Right now, I'm just a civilian, and I have no jurisdiction here —Ethan replied casually.
Marijuana use was common in the United States, and he wasn't self-righteous enough to take it away from them. Had this happened in Banshee, he wouldn't have ignored it, but he was on vacation and outside his jurisdiction, so he saw no reason to intervene.
At that moment, the three people behind them quickened their pace and caught up.
—Your name's Ethan, right? —Carly asked—. Judging by the things in your car, are you two going camping too?
Ethan nodded.
—Yes. There was a traffic jam on the main road, so we took a detour.
Carly kicked through the fallen leaves as she walked.
—We came this way too, after asking for directions at a gas station a few miles back.
—Was it an old man wearing a straw hat? —Daria asked in surprise.
—Yeah. Looks like that damn old man sent us all the same way —Scott replied before turning to Daria—. Are you two a couple?
Daria took a sip of whiskey, screwed the cap back onto the bottle, and handed it to Ethan.
—No, just friends —she said with a smile.
Ethan put the whiskey back in his backpack and looked at the girl who had remained silent the whole time.
—You're Jesse, right?
The girl in jeans and a white T-shirt nodded.
Ethan adjusted his backpack and asked:
—Nice name. Where are you from?
Before Jesse could answer, Carly spoke up.
—We study at an art college in Philadelphia. We planned a weekend trip, but we didn't expect it to turn out like this.
Jesse smiled at Ethan and continued walking at an easy pace.
The two girls were quite different: one quiet, the other lively and cheerful. Once Scott heard Daria say that she and Ethan weren't a couple, he began talking to her nonstop.
A mature woman like Daria still held plenty of appeal for college students. Jesse noticed the small gestures between Ethan and Daria and suspected their relationship was closer than mere friendship. Afraid Scott might offend Ethan, she discreetly kicked him to make him stop talking.
Half an hour after Ethan and the others left, Francine and Evan were still sitting on the hood, leaning against the windshield and watching the leaves overhead. A third of the bottle was already gone, and several hand-rolled cigarette butts lay scattered on the ground.
—Feeling better now? —Francine asked, turning her head toward Evan with her eyes closed.
Evan took a deep drag, then stubbed the cigarette out against the truck.
—Not bad. That bastard almost dislocated my shoulder.
Francine laughed, playing with her short red hair.
—Actually, he's pretty handsome. Nice muscles too.
—What's so great about that guy? —Evan asked irritably, taking the bottle and swallowing a mouthful.
—Sorry —she said with a shrug.
—By the way, where did you get the weed?
—Good, isn't it? It's from my dad's secret stash. I found it the other day while I was cleaning his study —Francine replied with a smile.
—Amazing! —Evan said, giving her a thumbs-up.
Francine slid off the hood and looked around. More than half an hour had passed, and there was still no sign of another car or anyone else on the road. She pursed her lips and began undressing as she looked at Evan.
Evan quickly picked up the glasses he had set aside. In the blink of an eye, Francine had stripped off all her clothes. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, illuminating her skin.
—Are you just going to stand there and stare? —Francine asked with a provocative smile.
Evan jumped down from the hood, lifted her into his arms, and carried her to the back seat.
Later, Francine was rummaging through the back seat of Daria's SUV.
—Honey, what are you doing? —Evan asked from the white truck.
—Just looking for something useful. Want something to eat? —Francine replied, biting into an energy bar.
—Yeah.
—I'm coming. Give me a second —she replied, tossing her short red hair.
That was when she noticed a small box behind the suitcase. Curious, she opened it and found two large bottles of lubricant and several sex toys. Francine smiled knowingly and closed the box. She grabbed a few bags of chips and some energy bars, then climbed out of the Chevrolet SUV.
—Evan, I'm back!
Francine walked over to the white truck, but when she reached it, she noticed something strange. Evan was gone. Confused, she set down what she was carrying and looked around. All she could hear was the rustling of leaves.
—Evan… —she called, her voice echoing through the woods without an answer.
The isolation began to unsettle her. She looked both ways, growing increasingly nervous.
—This isn't the time for jokes, Evan! Where are you? —she shouted.
Ethan exhaled a puff of smoke, pointed to the landslide ahead, and said:
—That landslide's clearly been here for a while. Look, there are even plants growing over it. The old man at the gas station must have known, but he sent us down this damn road anyway.
Scott thought for a moment and realized Ethan was right.
—Damn old man. He really screwed us over —he said angrily—. When we get back, I'm going to kick his ass.
Jesse caught on too and quickly asked:
—So what do we do now?
Ethan dropped his cigarette butt and started back the way they had come.
—Let's find your two friends first. Once we're all together, we can figure something out.
Without realizing it, he had become the group's leader. Scott spread his hands, shrugged, and quickly followed. The others did the same.
After they had been walking back for more than ten minutes, Daria grabbed Ethan's arm.
—What's down there?
Everyone stopped and looked where she was pointing. The angle had kept them from seeing it earlier.
Now, on their way back, they could just make out several wooden houses among the trees, a few hundred meters below the road.
Scott pumped his fist cheerfully.
—Thank God. There are people out here after all. We can ask for help.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the houses. There might not be a phone, but surely there would be a car they could use to get out and find help.
Ethan still had his reservations, but with the others so eager, he had little choice but to go along.
There was no way to head straight down, however. They had to circle around the slope, following the edge of the road beside the forest.
Ten minutes after they left that spot, an old tow truck appeared, moving slowly along the road and belching black smoke.
After a long walk through the dense forest, the trees suddenly thinned, and a path appeared ahead.
Scott hurried excitedly toward one of the small wooden houses they had seen from above. Yet as they approached, the place appeared deserted.
A small river flowed beside the houses. Seven or eight abandoned vehicles sat on the grass, so rusty they looked as though a single blow might reduce them to scrap. Threadbare clothes lay scattered around them, and a dozen worn-out mountain bikes were piled in one corner.
Everything about the place gave Ethan a bad feeling. As they approached one of the houses, he slowed his pace.
—This place gives me a bad feeling. We'd better keep moving and meet Francine and Evan back on the road —Carly said, folding her arms and looking around uneasily.
Scott shook his head and pointed to the white smoke rising from the roof.
—Aren't you overthinking it? Someone seems to live in that house. Come on, maybe they can help us.
With that, he bounded up to the porch, opened the screen door, and knocked on the wooden door behind it.
—Hello? Anyone home?
Ethan glanced around and whispered to Daria:
—If anything goes wrong, follow me and stay close.
Daria nodded quickly and stayed beside him, unnerved by the number of abandoned vehicles in the middle of the mountains. Scott knocked harder.
To his surprise, the door wasn't latched and swung open. He paused, then turned back to the others.
—Nobody's home. Why don't we go inside?
Jesse spread her hands helplessly.
—Scott, I don't think we should go in. This place makes me nervous. Why don't we wait here? —she said, reluctant to enter.
Scott hesitated before replying:
—Wait outside if you want. But both our cars are damaged. Maybe there's a phone in here we can use to call for help.
Ethan gritted his teeth. Scott's reasoning wasn't entirely unreasonable. They were already at the door, and the others were unlikely to leave without looking inside.
By then, Scott had already entered. Ethan patted Daria on the back and followed him.
The wooden house was well lit inside. A large wooden dining table stood in the center, with enough room for a dozen people. Beside it was a large, unmade bed with worn bedding that smelled of damp.
Carly and Jesse came in too, carefully closing the door behind them.
Jesse walked to the far corner. Two large cabinets stood at the foot of the bed, filled with assorted belongings. She picked up a basket and curiously examined the car keys inside.
After closing the door, Carly approached the dining table.
—Did you find a phone?
Scott glanced around and quickly shook his head when he found nothing.
—Could there be one in here? —Carly asked, walking to a small adjoining room and opening the door.
As she did, something fell and struck her on the head with a bang.
Everyone turned toward her in surprise.
—I'm fine —Carly said, rubbing her head and holding up the wooden box that had fallen—. Damn…
She looked inside the room and saw that it was packed with belongings: cameras, shoes, glasses, watches, and wallets belonging to different people.
Scott opened another door and found the bathroom. It was filthy and reeked of dried excrement, but he decided to use it anyway.
Ethan and Daria reached the kitchen, where a large pot simmered over a low flame. Pieces of meat rolled through the bubbling liquid, giving off an appetizing smell.
Curious, Ethan picked up a spoon and stirred the contents a couple of times. Then his expression darkened as pieces of a human hand rose to the surface. He set the spoon aside, took Daria by the arm, and quickly led her back into the main room.
—There's no phone here. We need to leave and go back for your friends.
—I agree. We need to get out of here now —Jesse replied, pulling a glass jar from one of the cabinets, her expression rigid—. These are all human teeth.
Ethan felt a dull ache in his own teeth as he looked at the jar's contents.
—Shit! Shit! Shit! —Scott shouted, rushing out of the bathroom—. We have to get out of here. There's a body in the bathtub.
He swallowed hard, his face pale.
As soon as Scott finished speaking, Carly cried out by the sink in the utility room. They hurried over and found her trembling.
—Hair. There's so much hair in there.
—We're leaving. Right now —Ethan said without hesitation.
All three nodded quickly. It was obvious they had stumbled into a murderer's lair. The realization alone was enough to make them feel sick. Ethan also had a suspicion: Daria's joke might have been right. They had encountered a monster—apparently a cannibal.
Just as they were about to rush outside, they heard an engine. Ethan stopped everyone, hurried to the window, and peered through a gap in the curtains. Several trucks, including an old one, came into view along the road, heading toward the house. A trailer brought up the rear. Looking closely, he spotted a Chevrolet SUV and a white truck being towed behind them.
—Shit —he muttered.
Francine and Evan must have been in trouble if those people had caught them.
He turned away from the window and quickly scanned the room, ignoring the others' panic. His gaze stopped on the large wooden bed.
—Quick. Hide under the bed.
Running outside with a group of unarmed people would be suicide. Their only option was to hide first and work out a way to escape.
Scott lay down and peered beneath the bed. It was filthy and covered in cobwebs. He was still hesitating when Jesse kicked him. The others followed, quickly crawling under the wooden frame.
Ethan checked the room, making sure the furniture looked much as it had when they entered. Once he was certain no one was watching him, he took his Colt M1911 from his inventory, checked the magazine, engaged the safety, and tucked it behind his back.
Then he removed his backpack, pushed it under the bed, and crouched down to roll in after it.
There were too many of them crammed into the small space, and their awkward positions made them easy to spot. Hearing a vehicle door slam outside, Ethan spoke in an urgent whisper:
—Move over a little.
Scott could only close his eyes and press himself against the wall, tangled in cobwebs. Jesse and Daria squeezed tightly together.
A jumble of footsteps sounded on the porch. Desperate, Carly grabbed Ethan. Without hesitating, he braced himself on his arms and twisted into place. Just as everyone fell silent, the door opened.
The room suddenly filled with activity, while those beneath the bed held their breath. Ethan lay over Carly, silently counting the feet that came into view. He counted thirteen pairs of shoes and was glad he hadn't acted impulsively.
Thirteen people. There was no chance of winning in their current position. Ethan covered Carly's mouth with his palm, then gave Daria a quick wink. They couldn't afford to make a sound.
Daria understood. She and Jesse covered their mouths.
Heavy footsteps approached as several people came toward the bed. Then came a muffled thud as something heavy hit the floor.
Ethan felt Carly's whole body tremble, her heart pounding. He pressed his hand more firmly over her mouth to keep her from making a sound.
Her eyes filled with tears, which spilled from their corners. Barely more than a meter away, Francine lay on the floor, her remaining eye staring blankly toward her friends beneath the bed. An arrow protruded from the other eye, and blood ran down its shaft onto the floor.
Keeping his hand over Carly's mouth, Ethan gently turned her face inward.
The sight was too horrifying for students who had barely experienced life beyond school. The others beneath the bed saw Francine too. Their bodies went rigid, and they pressed their hands over their mouths with all their strength before closing their eyes, unable to look any longer.
A low voice spoke:
—Idiot. Can't you be careful?
—Whatever. They all need cleaning anyway.
Another voice answered, and hearing the exchange made everyone feel as though time had slowed.
—Hurry up and take her inside. Get ready to eat.
The command came in another deep voice.
—Okay, Bighead.
Replies followed one after another. Several large hands lifted Francine and carried her farther inside. A few moments later, some of the people hurried outside, then returned with heavy footsteps. A hand hung limply, dragging along the floor.
Ethan narrowed his eyes. The bracelet looked familiar.
He let out a soft breath. Neither Francine nor Evan had escaped.
The people in the house settled around the dining table as casually as though they had just returned from an ordinary hunting trip. A woman's voice rose over the clinking dishes.
—Look here. There's a little whiskey…
—Tender meat tastes better with a drink.
Indistinct cheers followed, and someone occasionally thumped the table. They began eating and drinking, bursting into strange laughter from time to time. Soon afterward, another engine sounded outside. The door opened, followed by slow footsteps.
—Oliver.
Chairs scraped across the floor as the dozen diners stood and stammered their greetings to the newcomer.
The visitor stopped and called out in a rough, indistinct voice:
—You bastards are no good at working, but you're sure good at eating.
—Bighead, let's talk.
Ethan and Daria exchanged a glance. They recognized the voice of the old man from the gas station.
The room fell silent for a moment. Then the deep voice of the man who had been giving orders sounded again.
—We searched along the road. We didn't see the other people you mentioned.
—Don't worry. Rest for a while. We'll keep searching this afternoon. They must have followed the road. There's nothing but forest for tens of miles around here. In all these years, no one's ever escaped.
Oliver walked to the dining table, pulled out a chair, and sat down.
—Be more careful when you set up obstacles on the road from now on. A wrecked car isn't easy to sell.
A woman spoke in a flattering tone:
—Oliver, this is the most tender portion. I prepared it especially for you.
Lunch ended quickly, and most of the group left. Ethan silently raised his head to look. Two women were clearing things from the dining table. A tall man with a large head stood at the wooden table beside the stove, wielding a machete.
With every chopping sound, Carly trembled against Ethan.
After a while, a gasp broke the silence. A strong smell of blood filled the room, and the remaining cannibals moved about noisily before they all lay down on the wooden bed. It shook violently, sending dust down from the boards. The frame creaked.