Page 125 of Trapper Road

Still, I need him. I blow out a breath and say, “I’m scared, Sam. Call me.”

I hang up and tell the car to call Kez as I gun it through town. Thankfully she answers on the first ring. “Gwen—” she starts. Her voice sounds apologetic.

I cut her off. “I don’t have time to explain. Connor and Vee are in trouble. You need to get Sam for me. I need him.”

“He’s at the jail. I’m on my way.” I hear her grab for her keys, the sound of the door opening.

She must be at home, because in the background I hear Lanny call out, “What’s wrong? Where are you going? Is that Mom?”

My daughter’s voice is at once a comfort and a dagger. Just hearing her, knowing she’s okay is a huge relief. But the panic lacing her words, that cuts deep.

Kez starts to respond to her, and then I hear a rustle and Lanny’s voice comes on the line. “Mom, where are you? What’s going on? What’s happening to Sam? No one will tell me anything!”

I blow out a breath. I want to sound calm for her, I want to be reassuring, but I know that’s impossible given the adrenaline pouring into my system. “Lanny, honey, I love you. I know you’re worried. I am too. That’s why I need you to put Kez back on the line.”

“Mom—” her voice cracks.

Then it’s Kez again. “I’ll get Sam.”

“Take care of Lanny,” I tell her.

“I’ve got Lanny and Sam. You worry about what’s going on there.”

I nod, even though she can’t see me, and end the call.

There’s no real road that leads to the Shadow Shack, at least none that’s marked. The only indication of the turnoff is a pair of dirt ruts veering from the road toward the row of trees. I take the turn almost at speed, the SUV protesting and shuddering as I cross a narrow ditch and bounce across the field.

It’s full night, any remnant of the day long gone. My headlights cut through the dark, struggling to illuminate the path ahead. I’m forced to slow down so I don’t end up wrapped around a tree. I clench the steering wheel tight, my knuckles white. I’m leaning forward, as if through force of will alone I could get there faster.

Something terrible is ahead, I know it. There’s a smell in the air, something both familiar and wrong. It takes me a moment to place it: smoke. Not from a natural fire though. There’s a toxic edge to it, a chemical taste left in my mouth. Something’s burning that shouldn’t be.

The road twists ahead, and I spin the wheel, the SUV threatening to tip but keeping traction. Ahead through the trees I catch sight of a writhing orange glow and my stomach twists. Something’s on fire, I just don’t know what or why.

All I know is that my kids are there. My mouth goes dry, panic pulling at my thoughts. I have to fight to stay calm. To keep my brain from spiraling into terror. My kids need me to be smart, to stay in control.

I punch the voice controls, telling my phone to call 911. The operator answers with the usual questions, but I cut her off. “There’s a fire in the woods off the main road. Near the old Milam House.”

The operator must be local because she asks, “You mean the Shadow Shack?”

“That’s the one. I think—” I don’t finish because just then I break through the trees and into a large clearing. Ahead of me the world is on fire. I slam on the brakes, jerking to a stop.

It’s both beautiful and horrifying, the way the flames writhe up the sides of the old house, tips leaping and snapping the air above the roof. Smoke boils, blotting out the sky and causing my throat and eyes to burn.

The emergency operator is saying something, but I don’t hear her. Because there’s a figure running toward me across the clearing, waving a hand desperately. They’re backlit by the fire, turning their features to shadow.

I tear at my seatbelt, throwing open the door and jumping out. The heat hits instantly, forcing me back a step. The air is thick and heavy, burning my throat with every breath. The sound is overwhelming, the old wood popping and cracking, timbers inside groaning and giving way, walls collapsing in on themselves.

The figure cuts in front of the car and the headlights hit her. It’s Mandy. I hesitate, warning bells blaring.

“You have to help!” she cries.

I study her face, trying to find evidence of the monster that may be lurking beneath. But all I can see is the teenage girl. One similar to my daughter.

“Where are Connor and Vee?” I shout at her.

She’s sobbing, near hysterics. “I don’t know. I got a text from Willa to meet her here. and when I showed up I found the fire.”

I grab at her, my hands clawing her shoulders. “Is Connor inside?”