I ignore what’s going to be a reasonable warning, and instead carefully unlatch the door, needing to know what this place is, something unruly demanding answers before we continue with our plan.
The inside is darker than outside, not a sliver of moonlight making it into the tiny cabin. I close the door behind me, hoping that the rush of cold air won’t alert someone to my presence before my eyes adjust.
But my eyes water instead of clearing in the dark, the smell of rotting meat and piss and feces making it difficult to keep from gagging. I jam my face into the elbow of my coat, but the taste of the space lingers in the back of my throat like the hell I imagined might do.
Finally, I can’t take it any longer, and I juggle all the things in my hands until my phone is out, flicking on the flashlight.
What I see isn’t hell, but it’s not much better.
There’s nobody here, not right now. But there have been. Many somebodies, over many years, if what I’m seeing is to be believed.
I cut off RJ’s quiet rant in my ear. “It’s where they tortureand kill.”
“What?”
“There’s no one here, but this is where they make whistleblowers disappear.”
RJ’s silence says more than anything.
I take a few steps farther into the space, not sure why. Maybe because I have a feeling Trips and Clara have been here. They’ve survived this space, so I have to too. But the camera-finder goes off in my pocket.
I stuff my picks back into their case and into my other pocket, then jam my mittens inside my coat, creating enough space to pull out the device, careful not to drop anything on the dark, stained floor.
The beeping leads me to an old school security camera in the corner, the wires snaking through the wall. “How likely are old cameras to have live feeds?” I ask as I back out of the dank space, closing the door behind me with a satisfying snick.
“How old?” RJ asks.
“Like, prehistoric. Older than we are.” I force my feet through the snow to the back corner where the wires passed through, finding a lockbox built into the side of the house.
“I don’t know. Not without seeing it. Can you take a picture? Trips’ family has enough money that it’s possible, even that long ago.”
I pick the lock on the box easily, opening it up and finding an old school VHS and a pile of seemingly new tapes beside it. “One sec,” I say, poking at the buttons until the machine whirs like a hive of angry bees. I wait, holding my breath, but nothing pops out. My sigh has RJ’s voice loud in my ear. “Is this a silent ‘Oh shit’ moment?”
I huff out a laugh. “Nope. I think we’re good. The camera’s hooked up to a VHS recorder, and that’s empty.”
“Send me a picture, just in case,” he orders, and I try not to get annoyed. The poor guy looks barely better than warmed-over death after all the work he’s had on his plate these last few months.
I hope Walker is enjoying his beauty sleep.
I do as RJ asks, then head back to the truck. “I think I’m going to burn our stuff a little way from the cabin. That place is full of secrets that could put someone behind bars, and I don’t want to risk losing another piece for the cops to build a case, especially after cleaning out the storage units.”
“Sounds good. Try not to take down the entire forest, though.”
“I won’t. And it’s not like I’m lighting it up tonight, anyway. I can’t have you or Walker presumed to be part of this.”
“I’m already wiping the storage unit security footage. The company had a freaking 123456 password on the stuff.”
I laugh, his incredulity feeling normal despite everything right now being anything but. “You remember my passwords when we met?”
He groans. “Don’t remind me. 123abc is nearly the worst I’ve ever seen.”
“I didn’t have much to protect.”
He doesn’t answer, knowing I’m right. I wander deeper into the woods, finding a clearing about a thousand feet from the cabin.
Then, with a shovel I brought for this exact purpose, I dig down until I hit the frozen ground, building a berm of snow around my burn site. I wish I were strong enough to cut intothe frozen soil, knowing a burn pit is safer, but it’s just me, and I’ve already emptied three storage units tonight. My body can only do so much.
At least the internet will make the next part easier. It’s amazing what you can learn when you know you need one hell of a bonfire and you’ve got all kinds of time on your hands.
