“I don’t know. There must be something nearby that we can at least use to hide.”
“Wait.” I pulled my head out of Nicholas’ embrace and turned to face the road. “There is an old cabin in the mountains. It shouldn’t be too far.”
It was exactly 1764 feet away.
“We shouldn’t goupthe mountain.”
“We wouldn’t. It’sdownthe road, just half a mile or so.”
“Then… it’s probably our best option.” Nicholas’ breathing was so loud that it was the only thing I could hear. He pushed himself back to his feet and pulled me up with him.
I brushed some dirt off my pants and pointed down the road.
Nicholas nodded and jogged toward it, his head turning left and right, looking for our attacker.
The sound of our feet hitting the pavement as we ran downhill echoed through the night.
A few treetops moved in the distance.
An owl hooted.
Both of our heads turned toward it out of reflex before we briefly searched for each other's faces with smiles that tried to be reassuring but were filled with sorrow.
We rushed down the street without saying a word. I felt terrible that I still had no chance to answer his question, but I knew the moment would come soon. The cabin was set up with cameras filming every nook and cranny, and if I was going to answer him somewhere, it had to be there to get it on tape for him.
It took us ten minutes to reach the cabin. The wooden structure had seen better days but still stood strong for it being built almost a hundred years ago and out of use for ten now. It used to be a visitor center for tourists but was shut down when the hotel closed due to the lack of visitors.
We ran across the small parking lot and up the four steps that led to the small covered porch. The wood creaked beneath our feet. I rattled at the door. As planned, it was locked, but I still made a face to keep up the charade. “Fuck.”
Now, all I had to do was to lead him around the building to the window we had left open so he and I could climb in.
“Maybe there’s a window in the back?” I asked.
“Good idea.” Nicholas leaned over the parapet to check the surroundings. He hurried back down the stairs and went off the sidewalk to go around the building. “Jason, here.”
I followed his voice to the back. He pointed to the open window. Since the building was on top of a hill, the window was too high to reach alone but doable if two people worked together.
“I’ll give you a lift,” he whispered, squatting down and putting his hands together.
I rushed toward him, stabilizing myself on his shoulder as I stepped into his hands. He gained some momentum and pushed me up so that I was level with the window. Holding on to the frame, I pushed the half-ajar window all the way open and climbed through.
Inside, it was dark and dusty—the perfect place for this. There was a small desk by the entrance, some information boards about the area, and a restroom in the back. I landed gently on the floor but still made some distressed noises as if I had hurt myself.
“Are you okay?” Nicholas whispered from outside.
I stood up and looked out the window. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
When he looked up at me, my heart skipped a beat. He looked so distraught. Fake blood still covered his face and shirt. He seemed so small, even though he was so much taller than me. I leaned out of the window and reached my hand down.
He grabbed it and jumped up, his right hand reaching for the window. With my help, he pulled himself through the hole and rolled onto his back as he landed on the floor with a hard thud.
His right hand went to his back as he groaned, the corners of his mouth hanging down. I couldn’t quite see it because of the darkness, but his sniffling gave away that there might have been some tears that he was trying to hold back.
My heart sank into my stomach. I searched for his hands, and when I found them, he was clinging to me like a drowning man clutching a lifeline.
I knelt beside him, pressing his head against my chest. “I’m here.”
“I’m so grateful that you are.” He turned his head, his lips searching for mine as if they wanted to make sure thatifthis was close to the end, they would at least get one last taste.