In fact, he hadn’t felt this relaxed in a long time.
Maybe it was the mind-blowing orgasm he’d woken himself up with this morning, so powerful it made his bones turn to jelly and melted away every possible care in the world.
And then Ciaran had come over to chat this morning.... So, yeah, Sawyer was feeling pretty damn good.
He’d only gone a few kilometres out of town when he noticed how the forest had begun to reclaim the road. He guessed it wouldn’t take long, but with no one using the road at all, the trees and grasses almost ate the road up. He got to one driveway and stopped. The gate was wide open, and from where he was, he could see the house set back from the road a hundred metres. It had perhaps once been a great, tidy house. Now it was old, but nice, and sitting on how much land, he could only guess. But the forest was reclaiming it too. The house, the driveway, all of it was being eaten by greenery.
Clearly, no one had lived there for years.
He checked the map. Yep, definitely used to be a lived-in house with a visible driveway. He edged the cruiser down the drive and pulled up near the house. He got out and considered verbally identifying himself, as was protocol, but there was no one within miles.
He peered through a window. It was dark and old, covered in dust, the 1970s furniture still there as if the owners had done a midnight runner.
Maybe they had.
The place was as untouched as the day they’d left it.
Back in his cruiser, he checked his map and found there should have been another house a few hundred metres further up the road. He drove on until he found it. Since he could see it from the road, he didn’t even bother going down the drive.
The house was dilapidated, basically a ruin. The old timber rotten, sheets of tin rusted through, the front porch now leaningdangerously. It was barely visible through the trees and long grass.
Sawyer doubted anyone had lived in it this century at least.
He drove out a bit further and came to a dead-end. There were yellow-and-black reflective road barricades, government issued by the looks of it, and huge cement blocks making the road impassable.
So he cut the engine and got out.
He was protected from the wind by the forest, but it was damp and misty and freezing cold. The wind made an eerie sound as it howled and whistled, the huge pine trees swaying in reply.
He wasn’t the type to get easily spooked, but he couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched.
Probably by critters in the forest. But still... they were watching.
He set off on foot, walking through the barricades and down the road, the blacktop barely recognisable, covered by leaves and branches. Grass had even begun to grow in the cracks.
And barely a hundred metres in, around a slight bend, he could see why the road was closed. Where the bridge used to be was now broken wooden pylons, snapped wooden railings, and nothing but air across a gorge.
The gorge itself was deep, dark grey rocks and trees framing the steep walls down to the river.
Dark water moving fast and unforgiving.
It was no wonder they’d not tried to replace the bridge. Maybe the local government was hoping the few remaining residents would leave, and to be fair, Sawyer assumed most of them had.
He stood there a moment, listening. The feeling of being watched hadn’t gone away, but it was only then he noticed what was missing.
Birds.
Not a sound.
Usually forests were a cacophony of wildlife noises, but there wasn’t a single one. No critters scurrying in the undergrowth. No whistles, no caws, no cries or chirps. Not even insects were buzzing.
And come to think of it, he couldn’t remember hearing any at the Cove either.
Had he even seen any birds since he’d arrived?
He didn’t think so.
Sure, it was cold and windy, but there should have been a seagull or two, right?
