Page 37 of N8
They crossed over a small bridge bearing a sign that readBeck Creek. Immediately past it, the sheriff’s car turned right onto a small dirt road. Cydney trailed after him.
The dirt road was basically two tire tracks with an overgrowth of weeds in the center. N8 could hear the plants hitting the car’s undercarriage as they followed the sheriff’s vehicle. Potholes infested the way, forcing them to go slow to avoid damaging the wheel base.
“It’s beautiful out here,” K8 remarked. Everyone agreed. Cydney opened the roof to let in the fresh air and sunshine, and they all inhaled the piney scent permeating the area.
They were well out of sight of their cutoff when a structure came into view. N8 leaned forward in his seat to stare at the facility. “It looks pretty much intact,” he commented.
“If the roof’s still sound, we have a chance,” P8 noted.
Biggs pulled around to the front. Cydney parked behind him, and they piled out of the SUV. The sheriff waited for them to join him in front of the wrap-around porch.
“This is it. The Trautman place. Whaddaya think?”
“It looks awfully small,” G8 commented.
“That’s because this is just the main hall. This way.” Biggs led them around the side of the building to show them what lay behind it. They stared in surprise at the row of small cabins that extended off into the surrounding woods.
Biggs lifted his hat, ran his hand over his head, and replaced the hat. “Back in the fifties and sixties, this was a nice little summer camp. People brought their families from all around to enjoy the camping and fishing. There’s twelve cabins right behind the main hall, and another dozen or so scattered around the lake.”
“There’s a lake?” T8 voiced.
“That way, if I remember correctly,” Biggs told them, pointing north. “It’s not a big lake. It’s formed by several creeks, and empties into the Burnbaum River. Some people still come up here to fish.”
“What happened to the camp?” Cydney asked.
“It was bought by the Trautman family in the late sixties. They turned it into a summer camp for children. That lasted until the seventies, when old man Trautman died. His son didn’t want to have anything to do with the business. He put the place up for sale and moved to California. There were a few nibbles, but none of them panned out. And so here we are,” the sheriff concluded.
“How much property are we looking at?” Cydney questioned.
“Mmm, don’t quote me on this, but I’m thinking around twenty, maybe twenty-five acres.”
“Is the lake included?”
“Again, I’m not sure, but I think it includes just a part of it. I think I heard once that there’s a cabin located at both ends of the property on both sides of the lake, to distinguish its boundaries. You’ll have to ask Morris when he gets here.”
“Can we get a look-see inside?” N8 inquired.
“We’ll have to wait for Morris. He’ll have all the keys. But we can look through the windows.”
They returned to the front of the main building and peered through the grimy panes. N8 cleared one with his hand, wiping his dirty palm on his jeans. “Hey. One of the windows in there is broken. I bet one of us can crawl inside and open the door.”
“Come on, F8.” G8 gestured to the young woman. “You’re the smallest. I’ll boost you inside.”
They hurried around to the back side of the building where one of the multi-paned windows had had much of the glass broken out, including the wood frame around the panes.
“Looks like the place has been burglarized,” Cydney noted.
The sheriff disagreed. “I don’t think so. This has all the hallmarks of a critter invasion. Maybe a storm broke out the first window. Or maybe some transients or kids threw a rock inside. Once they left, I’m betting raccoons and squirrels used it as a home. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Using a broken tree limb, G8 cleared out any remaining shards to prevent F8 from getting cut. P8 helped boost her to the sill, and she easily slipped inside. She quickly made her way to the back door to open it for them.
One at a time, they filed inside to survey the damage. Amazingly, the damage they’d expected wasn’t as extensive or severe. Even the sheriff was surprised. “The place looks pretty decent,” he admitted.
“But it’s still going to need a lot of cleaning and repair,” K8 observed, kicking a small animal turd out of the way.
“Yep.” Biggs nodded. “But it sure beats having to raze the place and rebuild from scratch. I don’t think Morris knows the state of this place. I bet he’s thinking a lot of it’s rotted out or beyond repair.”
“You said this was the main building?” F8 spoke up.
