“I take it that wasn’t thunder,” I said as I fluffed the last pillow and put it back on the bed.
Juniper shook his head as the boom repeated mere seconds later. “No. I’d wager an animal.”
We both made our way back downstairs to the living room. Through the window, we watched as snow rained down from the roof in thick waves as the sound repeated, forming an unsettling rhythm. More fell with every thud, until eventually, we could only see out of the top halves of the windows.
I wasn’t sure what on earth it was, but I was pretty sure we were trapped. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be long—but as we moved upstairs in hopes of a better vantage point from the bedroom window, I had the feeling we’d at least be stuck for the night.
Alone together.
We were alone together a lot, I reminded myself. Even if we had Sasquatch with us, he was a dog and thus, that didn’t really count. Juniper was my boss. We were the only two non-restaurant employees as of right now, and this wouldn’t be any different from any other time we worked together.
No different from the time we fell asleep on the couch together, either.
Or would it be?
Something about being alone together like this felt different. I couldn’t place it, but as the cabin repeatedly shook, I didn’t have a chance to even think straight.
Alone together.
Tonight, we’d be alone together.
Chapter 14
Juniper
Anotherloudthudshookthe entire cabin. As Rachel asked what it was, another thud followed. It repeated the action with enough force to make the front door creak and groan. The snow from the roof now covered the windows in the living room, so as I peered through the bedroom windows upstairs, the worst-case scenarios flooded my mind first.
There was a chance it was that incessant reporter from before. Maybe my mother was paying a surprise visit. Preferably, it was my dog’s namesake, though a literal Sasquatch would still mean certain death. Or, maybe there was some skiing version of Jason Voorhees who haunted the lodge that no one told me about when I purchased the property.
My jaw clenched as I watched a full-grown male elk banging on the front door with his antlers. As much as this sucked, at least it was better than the alternatives. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“What do you see?”
“It’s an elk. Come on, look.”
Rachel joined me by the window where she peered through the glass. “Shit, he isreallygoing at it. Is he pissed or hoping to find a lady friend? What do we do?”
“It’s past their mating season, so I’m gonna wager he’s pissed. I don’t know what’s got him so riled up, but we should stay put.”
“Let me rummage through this place and see if there’s anything we can use.”
“We can tag team it,” she offered. “I’ll check the bedroom.”
“I’ll start in the kitchen.”
With a nod, Rachel looked in the areas we’d cleaned up. I moved downstairs, and while the kitchen had nothing in the fridge, I set out some mugs, individual packets of chamomile tea (thankfully, with an expiration date set for next year), an unopened box of crackers, and silverware on the countertop.
Great. We can feast on flowers and stale Ritz. It’s almost like a proper charcuterie board if we close our eyes.
“Hey!” I heard Rachel’s footsteps padding down the stairs. “I found an old radio.” She set it on the coffee table in the living room. “Let’s see if the batteries still have any juice.”
After turning the dials for a few minutes and giving the radio a gentle smack on the side three times, it sputtered to life. A static feed jolted out of the speaker, making both of us wonder before Rachel adjusted the dial again. Then we heard the Parks Service’s frequency.
“Is this their radio chatter? Why is this tuned in to that?” Rachel asked.
“Sounds like it. Looks like this thing used to have a handset, too, but the cable for it broke.” I twirled the cable around my finger as I sat next to her on the couch. It looked like an animal chewed through it. “It’s perfectly legal. We should hear what they have to say.”
As we continued listening, another worst-case scenario happened, one I couldn’t believe I hadn’t even thought of.