Page 66 of Cabins Cows Critics
Thanks. Yeah, looks like my jig is up. The trucker at Levingston recognized me and informed the press. Dean kicked them off the property. I’m okay. Xoxo
Okay, he’s alright. Good. Now I can try to focus on the scavenger hunt to distract my thoughts from the fact that my time here is almost over. I was hoping that I’d find a feather clinging to the fencing around the chicken coop, but I’m shit out of luck there. The chickens have a solid roof over their chain-link fenced-in area, but it looks like they’re all keeping warm insidethe red coop because I can’t spot a single one out here. Can’t say I really blame them. Fresh snow has covered most of the ranch in a beautiful white blanket, but it has also kept the temperature way down. My breath puffs out in a cloud as I fiddle with the gate latch. Chickens don’t like to bite or anything, do they? I think as the gate screeches open. The clucking inside the coop intensifies, and I close the gate behind me quickly. The last thing I need is a bunch of chickens on the loose.
“Okay, I’m not going to hurt you or steal your eggs, I just need a feather,” I tell them as I open the small door at the side of the coop. Warmth flows out the moment I open the door, the noise growing louder, and then a flutter sails past me, and I jolt.
“What the fuck is that?” I call as the pink and brown hairless creature zooms past and then starts circling the ground under the coop like it’s building up speed for an assault.
“Are you okay in there?” someone asks, and I turn to find Skye standing with his hands on his hips, wearing what I have to assume is his favorite bright yellow overalls, given he’s worn them seven times in the last two weeks.
“What is it?” I ask, moving back slowly, hands raised as if that will somehow protect me should this thing decide to attack.
“It’s a chicken. You know you are in a chicken coop, right?” He laughs.
“Is it sick? Will I catch something?”
“It’s a naked neck chicken. They’re supposed to look like that.”
“It’s naked on more than its neck.”
“Yeah, but it’s harmless. Why are you in the chicken coop?”
I keep my eyes on the hairless bird scurrying around under the coop and make my way back to the open door.
“I needed a feather,” I say, reaching in and picking one that’s sticking out of the straw beds inside. I notice then that there are a few more of the hairless birds in there mixed in with theregular chickens, and thankfully, the rest of them seem content to stay sitting in their nests and ignoring me, for now.
“How do I get it back in?” I ask, and the coop gate screeches open, and then Skye strolls up to the thing, picks it up like it’s nothing, and lifts it back inside the coop, closing the door behind it.
“Like that.” He smiles. “What else do you still need?”
“Next on the list is a pinecone.”
“You know you don’t have to do it in order, the mason jar of conserve will be in the house. You are right here, probably should get that one next,” he says, holding the gate open for me to pass.
“True, okay, any other hints you want to give me?”
“Ha, that would be cheating.” He laughs and then turns on his heel. “See you at the cuddle cove when you’re done. I’m off to wrangle a wayward llama.”
“Good luck,” I call after him, and then I follow the path between Sally-May’s place and the back door of the house. It feels a little weird going in this way. I know they told us at the start of the treasure hunt that we’ll find a few items on the ground floor of the main house, but this is their home. The brothers’, anyway, and it just feels a little intrusive to be walking inside and looking through their things. Luckily for me, I don’t have to actually look hard; the second I step into the kitchen, I see the collection of conserves lined up on the table, a note attached to each. “Thank you for celebrating Christmas with the Beaker Brothers Ranch.”
I pick a cherry conserve and add it to my basket, then check the list for other items I might find in here. A pinecone will almost definitely be outside, as will be a twig with three forks and a yellow flower. The fresh snow on the ground might make that one more difficult to find. Fifth on the list is a candle; surely they have some of those in here. Oh, and seventh is a red book,ninth is a pen, and tenth is a garden gnome. I am pretty sure I saw one of those near Sally-May’s front door. Okay, where to start? I think as I walk through the dining room to the main hallway. The place is eerily quiet, and the old floorboards creak with every step. If this were one of my murder podcasts, the host would be explaining how this was the time the victim should have known to run. Yet here I am, pushing on through the dark hallway, and a flickering orange glow to my right catches my eye.
“Hello,” I call, but no one answers. I walk slowly, my pulse increasing with every passing second. “Hello, is anyone there? I’m just on a scavenger hunt…” I step closer, the light flickers again, and I swallow the lump that’s risen in my throat. “Please don’t be an axe murderer,” I say, and then I hear him chuckle.
“If it was, he surely won’t tell you now, will he?”
I jump and turn to find Connor leaning against the wall, a devilish grin on his lips.
“You scared me half to death,” I say, my chest burning as I struggle to catch my breath.
“Why are you on your own?”
“Wen’s boyfriend, Greg, came up, so she’s with him,” I reply, my heart rate finally settling into an almost normal rhythm.
“Well, how about I keep you company for a while?”
My stomach does a little swirl under his stare, and I nod.
I head toward the flickering orange glow with far more confidence and find a library, with three walls covered in bookshelves, and on the far-right wall, a big bay window overlooking the ranch and the mountains that have stolen the sun almost completely now.
