though.”
“Is there anyone living up there now?” Ethan asked.
“Oh, no, not since the fifties. I put a generator up there some time back, but the gas probably turned to varnish by now. Not much gas left, if I remember correctly, so don’t count on it workin’, but you’re welcome to try. The key is there on that hook.” The old man pointed to a cottage-style key hook next to the front door. “Now you young folk stay out of the cellar up there. Nothing in there but trouble, and no help can get to ya for a long spell. Just hang your car keys on that hook as you leave.”
“What is this?” Madison asked holding one of the long black poles.
“That’s a burnin’ pole; they put embers in the cup on the end and used it to burn prisoners from the other side of the bars. I think they called them ‘singe rods’ or ‘cinder sticks’ or some such.” The old man said dryly, clearly unsettled by Madison’s fascination with the macabre.
“Oh,” she said as she put it back.
“We’ll be back here in two days,” Abby informed Mr. Brighton as she traded keys with the little hook.
“You all be careful up there now—and stay out of that cellar.”
“We will,” Chris promised as they passed through the front door and into the late afternoon chill.
Chapter 2
After collecting their gear from the Nova, the group gathered to look up the side of the mountain and into the forest growing there. “I really didn’t think it would be this hard of a climb,” Abby admitted softly.
“Think it looks tough now? Wait till we actually get to the base of the mountain,” Chris said under his breath.
“I know you can make it, Abs. It will be tough, but I’ll help you,” Ethan comforted.
“Hiked a mountain before, have you?” Chris asked.
“Yeah, a few: in the Delaware Water Gap and the Poconos.”
“Well, there’s not much in the way of mountains in Florida, so why don’t you lead, then?” Chris could be rather quick with his tongue, but he always gave way to experience.
“That okay with you, Abs?” Ethan asked as she snapped some photos of the mountain with her Canon EO1, a gift she bought herself when she changed her major to Photo Journalism—with Ethan’s technical advice of course.
“Fine with me; I’ve never been hiking in my life.”
“Well, we should get a start. We don’t have much daylight left and we need to be about halfway up by the time we make camp. Everyone ready?”
No one answered—they just looked at him—so Ethan began walking across the empty field toward the forest’s edge and the beginning of their assent to Heart House. They crossed the field quickly enough, considering the soft sand-like soil, and entered the scrubby forest.
The mountain began as a gentle rise, which grew steeper with each step. The sun began to hide itself behind the summit, which made the vibrant fall leaves glow like uncut gems. Abby began snapping photos all around her as they walked, clearly fascinated with the scenery. It was obvious that she was seeing the wonders of the wild forest in person for the first time in her life. Abby’s photo snapping was slowing them all down a bit, but there was no real schedule to keep, so none of the others mentioned the lack of progress. Madison and Chris where holding hands and chatting softly with each other, making promises to one another of favors to be made after they stopped for the night. Ethan was a bit surprised to see that Chris was holding a beer. They had brought quite a bit for a hiking trip, each of them sporting two six packs, but to be ascending a mountain and drinking beer seemed stupid to him, but it was Chris, after all.
As the light began to fail, Abby stowed her camera in its bag, lens cap securely in place. “I got about a hundred shots. Can we put them on your laptop when we stop?” Abby asked Ethan.
“Sure. We need to mind the battery, though; if the generator does not work, we’ll have to use the solar charger, which takes freaking forever.”
“That’s fine. I can see the pictures on the camera, and damn if they all don’t look really good. I just want to empty the memory stick.”
The sun had hidden itself completely behind the top of the mountain, and everyone’s legs were beginning to weaken. They had made it the better part of halfway up, and each of them wanted to stop though none of them mentioned it.
“Did anyone else hear that?” Chris asked with Madison peeking out from under his arm. They were a good ten feet behind Abby and Ethan and thus, a few feet below.
“Hear what?” Abby asked.
“I didn’t hear anything,” Madison said up to him, sounding a little frightened.
“I thought I heard a dog barking. There it is again—listen!”
They all strained to hear, holding perfectly still, their breathing shallow. The breeze made a light rustling sound through the trees and a distant owl called out to the encroaching darkness, but nothing else.
“I guess I was imagining it. I could have sworn I heard dogs barking…”
“Maybe you burned a fat cell from freshmen year,” Abby shot at him playfully.
Chris smiled big, “Yeah, baby, you know me.”
“Should we go ahead and stop here? If we made it this far in four hours, I am sure we can make the rest before dark tomorrow.” Ethan calculated.
“That sounds good to me. I’m starved; we still haven’t eaten yet,” Chris reminded them.
“I’m hungry now, too,” Abby added.
Chris dropped his backpack on the ground as an answer. “Should we setup the tents? It doesn’t look like rain, and I would prefer to be close to the fire.”
“Nah, let’s just get the fire going and cook up some dinner,” Ethan replied.
They all set to work, Chris and Ethan collecting wood and starting a fire, the girls gathering the cooking equipment. When the girls finished their task, they brought out their sleeping bags and snuggled to each other underneath, their heads poking out to watch the antics of the boys. Ethan thought this was a favorite hobby of women, passed down in their genes and not something taught them by their mothers: watch the men, share with each other the reasons why they were doing it wrong, and conceal the laughter.
As the men of the group erected the small cooking grate over the fire and set water to heat to mix with the dried food packets they had brought, the girls began to join the sleeping bags together by way of the zippers.
“Anyone want some coffee?” Chris asked, favoring the girls with a smile.
“Do we have enough water for some?” Ethan asked.
In the distance, near the foot of the mountain, a lone and empty baying floated up to them. Abby immediately thought of an old movie she had seen about a prison break where the dogs tracked down the escaped convicts.
“Did anyone else hear that?” Chris asked, smug in his knowledge of everyone’s answer. He always liked proving himself right.
“Was that a wolf?” Madison asked nervously.
The howl drifted up the mountain again; this time it was more than just one, a chorus of many dogs.
“It sounds more like bloodhounds,” Ethan ascertained.
“I think they are bloodhounds,” Abby agreed.
“Are you guys sure?” Madison asked, still sounding nervous.
Chris turned to her and smiled. “It’s the Ghost Wolves of Cedar Creek,” he said jokingly, mentioning a favorite horror movie of hers.
Madison smiled back at him. “Okay, no need to make fun. I’m not used to being in the woods at night.”
“Don’t worry, Madison, neither am I, and that was pretty spooky,” Abby comforted.
The baying came again, this time more distant and less sorrowful, closer to dogs at play.
“It’s probably someone duck or pheasant hunting or whatever you would use a pack of hounds for,” Ethan reasoned.
