When I did see the door it was perfectly still.
I took a deeper sip of the vodka and with the bottle in my hand walked back over to the wall of photos. This time I studied the pictures more closely and suddenly the happy smiling faces of the children suddenly didn’t seem so happy. The grins on their faces looked strained, like they were being forced open by invisible hooks and the warm parental smiles of the mother and father now seemed more like the tight lipped smirks of a couple of snakes sneaking up an unsuspecting bunny rabbit. Photo after photo was like this. In each one the kids were staring into the camera while the parents stared at the kids: at the playground, walking through the woods, shopping in town … The last picture was a family photo of all of them standing in the bedroom.
There was no way I was going back to sleep and it was only 12:43 a.m. I stepped away from the photos and went back to the window. The rain had stopped and the moon faintly glowed through the black clouds like a big white light bulb covered in thick gauze.
In the window’s reflection the space under the bedroom door started to glow bright orange and my heart beat hard. I spun around but the glow was gone. Was it the vodka? Was my imagination freaking out from being in here? My head started to throb and I went back to my laptop. The screen had gone black and I sat down to try and relax with another movie. I pressed the power button. Nothing.
A hard knock against the bedroom door made my knee jerk up and the laptop flew into the air, hitting the wall and landing upside down on the floor. I spun around and saw the door rattling again.
The hell with this.
I grabbed my bag and computer and hurried to the front door. I swung it open and ran onto the road. I sprinted for a good thirty seconds and then stopped and looked back.
The light in the cabin window was like a glowing yellow eye in the night.
I took my cell phone out of my pocket and texted Heather.
Come get me now.
I lowered the phone and stood in the middle of the dark, wet road. The leaves rustled in the wind above me and an owl hooted in the woods. I barely even knew Heather but I hoped she was still up and had her phone by her. I swallowed hard and pulled my overnight bag tight to my body. It sucked giving up like this but I didn’t care. That cabin was evil.
I stood there for what felt like an hour but when a set of bright yellow headlights appeared down the road I checked my phone and saw only twenty minutes had gone by.
Heather pulled the Jeep up and I got in.
“Not all that fun, huh?” she asked as I put my seatbelt on.
“No, not really,” I said.
My spine chilled as Heather drove up to the cabin. She swung around the parking area in front of it and then hit the accelerator hard enough to throw me back against the seat. We drove in silence as the Jeep’s headlights cut through the darkness and lit the dirt road in a yellow glow. Heather made a hard right past a wooden street sign and the yellow lights lit up University Road ahead.
Five minutes later we were driving through campus and I finally felt the weight of the cabin off my back.
“So what really was that place?” I asked.
Heather turned the Jeep onto Mission Street and gave a little nod with her head. “Did you look over those photos?” she asked as she made a quick turn on Gallow; my dorm was straight ahead.
“Yeah, I looked at them all,” I said.
“Well, of those three kids, one of them escaped the parents, grew up, and inherited the cabin,” she said as she pulled up to my dorm. “She’s actually a student at Northern.”
I didn’t want to ask but I did. “What’s her name?” I asked looking straight at Heather.
Heather slowed the Jeep and stopped in front of the dorm. She turned and stared at me. “Take a wild guess.”
My eyes widened and she nodded.
The Jeep’s engine hummed and I heard some guys laughing about something stupid from the open window of one of the dorm rooms.
“You’re kidding,” I said.
Heather shook her head.
I popped open the Jeep door, jumped out, and shut it. Heather drove off and I watched the red tail lights disappear into night. I didn’t know exactly what was in that cabin’s bedroom and I didn’t want to. But I was done with Alpha Delta.
And I now knew that no matter how beautiful the area, there were some places you never wanted to stay overnight.
I sat in bed and stared at the TV. It was some old sci-fi flick on one of the hotel’s movie channels. But I wasn’t really watching. My mind raced with images of burning crashed cars and howling race fans and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to unwind without a little help tonight. I ran my hands through my hair, got up, and walked over to the bathroom. On the counter next to the little basket of soaps and body gels that every four star chain hotel leaves you was my bottle of Xanax. Mac, our team doctor, had prescribed it to me after the Texas race and I’d been on it for the past two months.
Four races and three first-place finishes later I was still on it.
But Joey’s ghost was still visiting me at night.
I walked out of the bathroom and over to the window. The city lights glittered like electric gold medals, but despite my competitive subconscious, winning just didn’t mean as much anymore.
Rubbing the back of my neck, I decided to take
