Page 19 of The Haunting of Paynes Hollow
My ancestors might have liked to act like they were just regular folks with regular cottages, but my great-grandparents made sure to hook their new cottages up to electricity and install septic beds. I mean, we were Paynes. We weren’t actually going to rough it.
I hit the switch and wait for the usual flicker before the light comes on. When nothing happens, I toggle the switch a few more times.
Darkness.
Well, shit.
Guess I really did need that flashlight.
I peer past the door, listening. Nothing. There’s no one there and never was.
I open it wide, in hopes of letting in enough light to see the hatchet. The moon is in the right direction, and it’s currently cloud-free, so I just need—
Something moves inside the shed.
My heart stops for two seconds, until I curse under my breath. Yes, something’s moving… because I already heard a squirrel.
But this didn’t sound like a squirrel.
My fingers tighten on the open door. Nothing of any size can be in here. The door was locked.
Still, how badly do I need that campfire? I’m just being stubborn, aren’t I? I decided I wanted a fire, and if I forgot to prepare wood during daylight, that’s my own fault, and I will rectify the mistake.
I shake my head. I’ll have a bonfire tomorrow when Gail can join me. I’ll spend part of the day building piles of tinder and logs. And I’ll figure out why the light isn’t working—
A grunt. A shuffle. Feet shuffling on the dirt floor.
From inside the shed.
That is not a squirrel.
I’m frozen, trying to peer through near darkness. My eyes adjust and—
There’s something less than ten feet away. It moves toward me, and a figure takes shape, and my gaze rises to see a human head and dark liquid eyes glinting in the barest hint of light through the open door.
I wheel and run. My brain screams for me to look back and see what I’m running from, that I can’t race blindly into the forest or I’ll bash into—
My hands hit a tree, wrists snapping with the force. I spin around to face whatever’s behind me.
Nothing’s behind me. In the moonlight, the shed door stands open.
I blink at it. Then I cautiously move around the big tree until I can see my uncle’s cottage and the road beyond.
I take one last look at the shed.
Then I run.
Seven
“There’s someone in the shed,” I say as I burst through the cottage door.
Gail looks up from the table, where I’d left her on her work call. “What?”
I struggle to catch my breath. “I went to get the hatchet. Ben said it was in the shed. There’s someone in there.”
She pushes the chair back as she rises. “In the shed?”
“Yes.” I take a deep breath and slow down. “There’s a person in the shed. A man, I think. Someone tall. That’s all I could see. The light isn’t working, and I forgot to grab a flashlight.” I take another breath as I fight to calm down. “It must be a squatter. With no one living here, someone found a dry place to sleep.”
