I moved to the front door, opening it to find another box on the top step.
It was identical to last week, with The Sunday Wife written in dark marker along one edge. I slid the box inside of the house, fingers working at the seams before I uncovered another handwritten note laying on top of a new array of cured meats and canned vegetables.
I hope you enjoyed the snowshoeing yesterday. Stay safe. Deception is deadly.
xYours
Instead of fear cracking my throat, anger bubbled to life. It burned up my spine and sent an adrenaline rush of goosebumps through me.
Deception is deadly.
I know the baby isn’t mine.
The lawn guy, Frey? Aren’t we both better than that?
The jumbled memories of Tav’s words came together with sudden realization. The sense of paranoia I’d previously held evaporated to crystal clarity.
“Fuckyou, Tav.”
I moved quickly then. I’d been ready for this moment. I pushed my feet into my boots, lacing them tightly before pushing my winter jacket with the faux fur collar over my shoulders. I snagged my already packed rucksack, zippers straining with the amount of food I’d packed inside of it. With my backpack on my shoulders and both ski poles in hand, I slung the filled water reservoirs over my shoulder and hobbled out onto the icy steps. I worked quickly, fastening the snowshoes to my boots and locking my foot in securely before sliding off down the driveway.
The icy wind was blistering on my cheeks. I paused, realizing these were my last moments at the chalet. There’s a chance I would die out on the mountain, a chance Tav already had, but life in lockdown hell wasn’t for me. Whether my captor was Tav, or a deranged stranger, I couldn’t stay to find out.
I snowshoed back to the steps and leaned inside the door to grab my knit hat and two fistfuls of jerky for my jacket pockets.
“Adios, asshole.”
The smart house asked me to repeat my request. I grinned and slammed the door instead. With quick steps, I set off down the driveway, eyes on the faint tracks the mountain man had left just minutes ago. I moved softly but swiftly, eager to catch him in my line of sight from a safe distance. My only hope was following him out of here. If the wind or a storm came, I could lose sight of him and the tracks in a matter of seconds.
My heart rattled as I realized I hadn’t fully thought out the consequences of venturing out onto this unforgiving mountain in winter-like conditions. Just as the path of the driveway fell below the ridge and my view of the chalet dropped out of sight, I was surprised to find the mountain man’s tracks had crested over a small snowbank and moved away from the driveway.
One minute into this journey and I was already off-road.
I cringed as I struggled to follow the tracks his snowshoes left, his strides wide and forcing me to find a rhythm somewhere between a fast walk and a jog. The exercise felt good, the stretch of my tight muscles from sitting inside for so many weeks was a welcome change. It felt like part of me had atrophied, or many parts. Maybe that’d been one of my coping mechanisms, even with Tav, shutting down and tuning out until the memory itself atrophied.
I thought of my nightmare last night, only this one a figment of reality. Life with mom had been oftentimes chaotic and sometimes outright traumatic, particularly when she was missinghim.
I blinked as the sound of his boots drew closer. “Look at you, pretty girl, dressed in your Sunday best just for me.”
My heart rate spiked as I forced my snowshoes faster. I couldn’t keep letting these lost memories plague me. I was torturing myself, the only thing worse was that I might not actually catch up with the mountain man and then I’d find myself lost on this mountain and alone with my thoughts. Most people can’t handle their dark hearts laid bare.
I slipped then, the tip of my snowshoe sliding off a rock I hadn’t seen buried under the snow.
Kill or be killed.
I sucked in a breath, using my ski pole to poke around my next step. I stopped at the edge, unable to see where the man’s tracks went from here. Had he simply jumped down? Or backtracked and went another way when I was lost inside of my own head?
“Why are you following me?” His voice was thick, like the snarl of a wild animal.
I didn’t answer, turning to find the stranger at the edge of a stand of evergreens.
His eyes were hard, trained on me like he might pierce my heart with an arrow and claim the meat for his own.
I miss my old life.
“Answer meor else.”
“Or else what?”
