Stella: Happier now than I have been in a long time. I'll catch you up soon.
Grandma: Sounds like you found a man.
My heart did a double whomp.
Stella: Maybe just some clarity.
Grandma: And that's good too. Love you, my girl.
Mark came back to mind, but I dismissed the ensuing race of my heart as the result of a rustle from outside. Instantly, my mind went to the mountain lion. JJ and Lizbeth had left three hours after arriving. I'd heard Lizbeth laughing as they walked back to their car, then drove away. Not long after that, Mark left with the roar of the Zombie Mobile as well.
To his date.
With night rapidly falling, and no one else in the mountain with me, an extra-large twinge of discomfort filled me. I quadruple-checked my little cabin. Door locked. Windows firmly locked. Drapes drawn. Phone and computer charged. Internet working.
Safe.
Except . . . it didn't feel like it.
Being alone at Adventura in the daytime was one thing, but at night? That business was something else altogether. Dark mountains. Who knew how many kinds of animals—lots of them predators—foraging for winter. Were there grizzlies down here? I gulped and turned my attention back to the screen. Then I slammed it shut when I saw a montage of a girl running through a dark mountainside, pursued by someone with a flashing knife.
“Nope!” I cried.
The silence followed, and then I just felt silly. Mountain lions couldn't come through the walls, and the cabin was very sturdy. Still . . . I'd feel better in a bigger space where I couldn't hear every single sound. The rattle of a pinecone falling down the roof was loud enough to wake me up sometimes. Although I liked being set back in the trees, they sometimes rattled along the walls in the wind with a scratching sound.
Mark's house would feel safer, came the thought.
Although I vehemently shook my head to try to deny it, I couldn't deny that I wanted to be somewhere where I could smell him. For some reason, I knew it would comfort me. So would a much bigger space with a much louder TV and fewer branches scratching on the windows.
I eyed the doorway. To get to the main cabin, I'd have to cross the dark porch, skitter through the woods, and then let myself into someone else's house. So very Goldilocks of me.
Was I sure Mark was gone? Yes. There was no denying the crunch, pop, and snort of the Zombie Mobile. The path would be twenty steps at most. If I ran, it would be . . . maybe five seconds. A hint of daylight still lingered on the edge of the horizon, even though the rest of the mountains had settled into an inky band of black. The longer I waited, the scarier this night would get.
Coward, I told myself again.
Then I shoved my arms through my jacket, scooped my laptop against my chest, and darted into the night.
My heart pounded against my ribs when I slammed Mark’s back door shut behind me, then locked it in relief.
Safe.
Mark had left a light on—no, he'd left all the lights on—which gave the place a warm, less-frightening look. As usual, stuff scattered in almost every available space. Living by myself meant an almost clinical feel to my world. The apartment I'd left behind rarely had a dish or spare piece of laundry. Grandma taught me to pick up after myself, which meant I washed the dishes as I cooked, rinsed as soon as I finished, and just reused the same one at each meal.
Mark's disorganization had a sense of . . . home . . . to it.
I checked the front door to make sure it was locked too—I'd open it again as soon as I heard the Zombie Mobile and slip out the back.
For now, relief filled me.
I set my computer on the couch, grabbed his remote, and turned the TV on. The noise filled the larger space, and when I wrapped a blanket around me, it felt like Mark sat nearby. One of his jackets hung over the back of the couch, so I grabbed it and took a deep breath in.
Pine. Outdoors. All the manly things.
All fear of the mountain lions disappeared, even when my computer chimed with a new email. When I clicked the icon, my stomach soured.
Stella Marie,
Had some news from work today, my love. Your normal love of detail has failed you. Each business application for government support has been rejected. Yet, when I look over the paperwork, I find no fault with your work.
I do wonder what may have caused that?
See you soon.
My eyes darted back to the door as I slammed the computer shut, breathing fast. The words my love ran through my mind like a ticker tape. The clearly sinister-sweet tone of his response. Of course, he had my old email—I should have anticipated that. Didn't think it was worth getting rid of that because too many important things came that way. Now I’d need to get rid of that, too.
The terror of the night pressed back around me, but when I caught a whiff of Mark on the air, I felt better. Joshua had received word of the rejections, which meant he was probably still in Cincinnati. He wasn't here.
Safe, I thought. I'm safe.
But it didn't feel like it, alone in the dark mountains. Banishing the fear of Joshua, I scrolled through Mark's list of stored movies, sighed in relief when I saw one of my favorite light-hearted romantic comedies, then started it. Then I pulled one of his jackets all the way around me and settled into the smell of Mark with a relieved sigh.
14 Mark
My thoughts were a jumble as I slipped out of the Zombie Mobile that night and headed for home. A breeze blew leaves around my feet as I crunched down the footpath, past trees, and toward my cabin. Shanti had been a refreshing change.
