With the rifle in the backseat of the car and the notepad sitting on the seat next to her, Maple drove deeper into the forest. The narrow, winding road was more of an overgrown path these days, but her little car navigated it with relative ease. She wouldn’t go barrelling down it at top speed, but going slow, she was managing okay.
At first glance, the roof of the long building sagged a little in the middle. That couldn’t be good. The age-worn Sugar Shack sign with bold red paint she remembered from her youth hung on one hinge, the letters faded and peeling. One of the many windows in the front of the building was broken, but the rest looked intact. She shuddered to think of what animals had gone in there to escape the climate during the winters.
She took a second to jot down some notes and pulled out her phone before stepping from the car. She snapped a couple of pictures from where she’d parked, getting the entire building in the shot. Off to the side, right where her grandpa always parked it, the wagon he’d used when conducting his tours sat. One of the big wheels was tilted at an awkward angle. Tall grass and wildflowers surrounded and climbed over it as the earth tried to reclaim the wooden boards that had once been the seats for people to sit on. The sight of it broken down and no longer useful was beautiful in a sad sort of way. Maple took a picture of the wagon, too. The wagon wasn’t worth anything, but she could blow up and frame the picture to put on her wall.
She was about halfway to the building when the wind shifted and the smell of cigarette smoke wafted to her nose. She whirled around, ready to dash back to the car for her rifle, but it was too late. A man with scraggly, grey-blond hair and a cigarette dangling from his lips stood between her and relative safety. His weathered face had a scar bisecting his left cheek.
He didn’t say a word as he walked toward her, his limp making his gait a little unsteady. Maple backed away, never taking her eyes off the man. “You’re trespassing on private property,” she said in the sternest voice she could muster, fully aware that retreating from the man nullified her bravado but not caring one bit. She had no way to get to her car, but she could make it to the building. Maybe she could find something to use as a weapon to protect herself, or at the very least, a spot to hide. She’d found many nooks and crannies as a child, surely one would be large enough to accommodate her adult self.
Rather than waste time and risk tripping over something, she spun on her heels to run, only to crash into what felt like a brick wall. She went down, sprawled on her ass. The man she’d run into sneered at her as he reached down and grabbed her by the arm. His fingers dug into her flesh with bruising force. He growled something she couldn’t understand as he dragged her toward the building. Crap. So much for being safe inside. Think, Maple. She couldn’t let him get her in there. Even if there was no one around, she opened her mouth and took a huge lungful of air before releasing it in a long, loud scream. If nothing else, maybe it would distract the man for a second and she could get away.
The man bared his teeth at her but didn’t stop. She dug in her heels and swung her free arm, hitting him square in the jaw, but he kept going as though she was nothing more than a fly buzzing around him. He slowed long enough to reach for the door and pull it open, but she wasn’t done yet. She screamed again and let herself go down, putting the brunt of her weight on her already sore arm. Unprepared for the move, his grip slipped. As soon as her ass reached the ground, she used her legs, kicking whatever she could reach with all that she had.
The man grunted when her foot came perilously close to his groin, then howled when it connected with his knee. What the hell was that? Whatever it was, it didn’t sound human.
She backpedaled as far as she could, trying to put enough distance between them that she could stand and run, but he was too fast. His big mitt of a hand came flying through the air, striking her in the chin—hard.
Her vision doubled, and black dots floated in her line of sight as pain rocketed through her head, but Maple refused to pass out. If she did, those bastards would win. The man grabbed a hold of her by the shirt and dragged her the rest of the way. Her feet wouldn’t cooperate as dizziness flooded her, and her stomach lurched.
The door slammed shut behind them with a loud clang, then opened again—she could only assume to let the other man in after them. Having been in the bright sun, Maple blinked fast, willing her eyes to adjust to the sudden dimness. How would she get away if she couldn’t see anything?
In the center of the room, toward where the male was dragging her, was a large lump on the floor. Her heart raced, and the moisture in her mouth vanished. A body. It didn’t move. Didn’t make a sound. Crap. Maple renewed her struggle. She didn’t want to wind up like whoever that was.
The man shook her—hard—sending the pain
