Witch of the Wild Woods

Chapter 25 - How to Fight the Loneliness

Chapter 25 - How to Fight the Loneliness

An eastern wind swept over the tops of the towering pines shaking loose a volley of fresh needles that floated down upon the six councilors who remained. Franki's long, slender frame appeared the least planted in their current reality. She neither paid attention to the Abidalli House or Luna's Jeep. There was an expression of being completely removed from their current crisis, alone, and adrift in her own thoughts. Nina's fists were balled uptight. Her teeth clenched and those beautiful brown eyes of hers were set on Jude's cabin. Gracie continued to limp toward the Jeep.

"We should go," Gracie whispered, "B-before... Before another one of those things appears and does something awful."

Jordan hushed her, "Or we could move too fast and that Jeep 'll end up the same way as the helicopter; big ass pine tree rammed right through the roof into the ground."
"Jordan! Jesus, honey, why would you jinx us like that?" Gracie implored despondently.

"'Cause, there ain't no such thing as a jinx," Jordan dismissed, with another hush.

Lane stood beside his sister as their minds independently formulated the same plan of attack. At least, he hoped that was the case. Their eyes scanned the perimeter and entirety of Jude's modest two story cabin. Their shoulders felt the weight of the risk they'd have to carry if they pushed forward. Both their hands remembered what it felt like to take a life if that became necessary. Even if they wanted to escape, take the easy way out, both Lane and Luna knew what path they'd been given.

The only way out was through Jude and whatever else lie in wait within the cabin.

"You suppose it'd be better to have them wait in the car," Luna asked, as if she were finishing the current train of thought inside Lane's mind.

That's what they'd promised their fellow councilors, or at least implied; come with us, and we'll get you to safety. That was their intent. The reality? Lane and Luna, no matter how far they traveled, always journeyed closer to danger.

Jordan rolled up her sleeves and stomped toward the house; "I ain't some kid too scared to go into their own room. I want some fuckin' answers."

Lane reached out, but Jordan was already half way across the gravel parking lot. Crunching his way after the wild redhead woman, he clutched the newly forged silver cross tightly in hand. Luna followed, striding in pace with her brother. The others tailed a short distance after. Eventually the gravel parking lot cross dissolved into thick, unmowed grass. They were nearly at the cabin door when Lane reached out for Jordan and caught her by the shoulder.

"Wait," Lane pleaded.

Jordan shook him off, scowled, and knocked on the front door, "Jude! Outside, now!"

No reply.

Again, Jordan banged her fist against the door. Again, no answer.

Not only was the house still, but the steady wind had died down. No nocturnal animals scurried about in the dark or released a whisper into the woods. No hooting owls. Not so much as a single leaf scratched against another. The forest was deathly still.

Lane took one last look around the perimeter of the house from the open wooden porch where they stood. The element of surprise was gone. This would be his last and only opportunity to gather as much information before their confrontation. In an instant, Lane desperately drank in his surroundings for as many clues as he could swallow; the location of the cabin in context to the others, the design of the house, and finally the garden beside the porch. He released not a sigh of relief, but one of resignation and readiness. There it was: the only two clues he needed.