is—OW!” She jerked her hand back and stared at the bubble of blood welling on her fingertip.
I’m still not inside, Marty thought. The others are and they’re fine, they’re at ease with the place, but I’m still not...
“Curt, your cousin’s house attacked me,” Jules exclaimed with mock severity.
“I smell lawsuit,” Curt said.
“When was your last tetanus shot?” Holden chuckled, and Marty noticed how close Dana had drawn to him. Not quite touching.
“Thanks, that’s very comforting,” Jules responded.
“Jules is pre-med,” Curt said sadly, stroking his girlfriend’s hair. “She knows there’s no coming back from this. I’ll miss you, baby. I’ll miss your shiny new hair.”Dana glanced around then and looked at Marty, drawing him into their group again. He blinked, a little startled. He’d been off in his own world again.
“Marty? Are you planning on coming in?”
“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe.” But he waited until the four of them picked up their bags and headed down the hallway before he made his move.
Once across the threshold he sighed, looking around and listening to the others joking and chatting in their rooms.
He looked at the wolf and growled.
•••
Holden took the first room on the left, next to Dana’s. He was excited. It had been a weird journey up from the city, the lowest point being that ignorant fuck at the gas stop. But now that they were here he could feel them all relaxing, and it wouldn’t be long before they made this place their own.
Unpack, change, get the keg into the living room, sort out food for this evening, have a few more drinks... and maybe even one of Marty’s joints... and then the weekend would really begin.
And there was Dana. He could feel the charge between them growing, and now he was certain that she felt it too. She was as keen to be close to him as he was to her. It felt a little awkward in the company of the others—he’d invaded their group, after all, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that Curt had brought himalong as a potential fix-up. But he couldn’t deny the effect she was having over him.
He only hoped she’d brought a bikini.
He glanced at a picture on the wall—some old Victorian scene—then threw his bag on the bed and winced at how much it creaked. Sitting on the mattress and bouncing lightly up and down, he felt certain the resultant squeaking would attract bears from miles around. He hoped Curt’s and Jules’s bed wasn’t this bad, otherwise none of them would be getting any sleep. If what Curt claimed was true, they went at it like rabbits.
The room was an echo of the rest of the cabin— wooden walls, wooden furniture, with a few touches here and there to make it look more homey. There was a rug on the floor, one corner almost threadbare, and a woven cushion on the bed covers. He turned back the covers and shook them, pleased to see no moths exiting or spiders scuttling away. He ran his hand between the sheets and felt no dampness. At least that part of it seemed to be comfortable enough.
Looking around again, he found his attention grabbed once more by the picture hanging on the wide wall. He’d assumed it was an old horse-and-dog print, a country scene from a long time ago, maybe even imported from Britain. But looking closer, the detail started to stand out... and it was horrible.
It was a hunting party, and most of the members were shown dismounted, their faces flushed red with rage or freshly blooded, arms raised, hands bearingcurved machetes that reflected gray sunlight where they weren’t also darkened with blood. At their feet were several big, vicious-looking dogs, reminding him more of the wolf’s head in the living room than the family pets he was used to. And at the focus of their attention was a lamb. Scarlet clefts had been struck into its back and flanks, and one dog had its slavering jaws clamped about the poor animal’s throat.
It was only a picture, but Holden found it
I’m still not inside, Marty thought. The others are and they’re fine, they’re at ease with the place, but I’m still not...
“Curt, your cousin’s house attacked me,” Jules exclaimed with mock severity.
“I smell lawsuit,” Curt said.
“When was your last tetanus shot?” Holden chuckled, and Marty noticed how close Dana had drawn to him. Not quite touching.
“Thanks, that’s very comforting,” Jules responded.
“Jules is pre-med,” Curt said sadly, stroking his girlfriend’s hair. “She knows there’s no coming back from this. I’ll miss you, baby. I’ll miss your shiny new hair.”Dana glanced around then and looked at Marty, drawing him into their group again. He blinked, a little startled. He’d been off in his own world again.
“Marty? Are you planning on coming in?”
“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe.” But he waited until the four of them picked up their bags and headed down the hallway before he made his move.
Once across the threshold he sighed, looking around and listening to the others joking and chatting in their rooms.
He looked at the wolf and growled.
•••
Holden took the first room on the left, next to Dana’s. He was excited. It had been a weird journey up from the city, the lowest point being that ignorant fuck at the gas stop. But now that they were here he could feel them all relaxing, and it wouldn’t be long before they made this place their own.
Unpack, change, get the keg into the living room, sort out food for this evening, have a few more drinks... and maybe even one of Marty’s joints... and then the weekend would really begin.
And there was Dana. He could feel the charge between them growing, and now he was certain that she felt it too. She was as keen to be close to him as he was to her. It felt a little awkward in the company of the others—he’d invaded their group, after all, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that Curt had brought himalong as a potential fix-up. But he couldn’t deny the effect she was having over him.
He only hoped she’d brought a bikini.
He glanced at a picture on the wall—some old Victorian scene—then threw his bag on the bed and winced at how much it creaked. Sitting on the mattress and bouncing lightly up and down, he felt certain the resultant squeaking would attract bears from miles around. He hoped Curt’s and Jules’s bed wasn’t this bad, otherwise none of them would be getting any sleep. If what Curt claimed was true, they went at it like rabbits.
The room was an echo of the rest of the cabin— wooden walls, wooden furniture, with a few touches here and there to make it look more homey. There was a rug on the floor, one corner almost threadbare, and a woven cushion on the bed covers. He turned back the covers and shook them, pleased to see no moths exiting or spiders scuttling away. He ran his hand between the sheets and felt no dampness. At least that part of it seemed to be comfortable enough.
Looking around again, he found his attention grabbed once more by the picture hanging on the wide wall. He’d assumed it was an old horse-and-dog print, a country scene from a long time ago, maybe even imported from Britain. But looking closer, the detail started to stand out... and it was horrible.
It was a hunting party, and most of the members were shown dismounted, their faces flushed red with rage or freshly blooded, arms raised, hands bearingcurved machetes that reflected gray sunlight where they weren’t also darkened with blood. At their feet were several big, vicious-looking dogs, reminding him more of the wolf’s head in the living room than the family pets he was used to. And at the focus of their attention was a lamb. Scarlet clefts had been struck into its back and flanks, and one dog had its slavering jaws clamped about the poor animal’s throat.
It was only a picture, but Holden found it
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