Aiden sighs. “Well, let’s go. But if we don’t find it in the next fifteen minutes, we should find someplace to set up camp in the woods. I’m worried we’ll be doing it in pitch black.”
“Hey, I got this.”
Aiden sends me a side-eye. “Um-hmm.”
“Don’t worry so much. You’re as bad as my boyfriend.” I keep leaving out the fact that Felix is myex-boyfriend, and I’m not exactly sure why. Guess it sounds better. Has more impact.Maybe to make Aiden jealous.
We turn down the trail and continue for a while, with the forest getting darker by the minute.
“Look over there,” Aiden says in a hushed tone.
“Where?”
“There. Up the hill.” He points to our right. A small cabin peaks over the trees. It’s a traditional log cabin style, with a round log exterior, a green metal roof, and a chimney on one side.
“Let’s go check it out,” Aiden says.
“You think that’s a good idea?”
“I’ve never let a bad idea stop me before.”
“What if somebody’s in there?” I chew on the side of my lip.
“That’s why we’re checking it out, all quiet like. Now who’s the worrier?”
“Touché.”
As we approach the cabin, all looks quiet. No light comes from the windows, and a half-inch thick layer of dust and dirt covers the porch. Nobody’s been here in a while. Despite that, it looks to be in excellent shape. The timbers are well-treated, and all the windows are intact. Not your typical run-down hunting shack. Whoever built this cabin knew what they were doing.
Before we get closer, we do a full orbit around it. In the back, a large propane tank is bolted to a cement slab. I lean over to check the gauge.
“It’s half full!”
“That, more than anything, tells me this place is abandoned.” Aiden cranes his neck around. “And remote enough that nobody has stolen the fuel. Should be safe to spend the night.”
“Ifwe can get in.”
“Oh, we’ll get in, alright.” Aiden smirks.
We check the doors and windows, and of course, they’re all locked. Aiden is about to smash a window with the butt of his rifle when I spot a conspicuous-looking rock resting against the foundation.
“Hang on a sec.” I grab the rock. “It’s fake. And there’s a key in it.”
“Good eye, Zach.”
Opening the door, we’re hit with a blast of stale air. But it’s not the sickening scent of decay I’ve encountered during most of my looting.
It’s a simple cabin. One big room serves as a living and dining area and kitchen. A small hallway leads to a single bedroom and bathroom.
The main room has a typical rustic cabin aesthetic with woven tapestries and shelves filled with knick-knacks covering the walls. Cast-iron pots hang above a stone fireplace, and an old, worn couch and loveseat sit in front of it. A basic kitchen with butcher block countertops holds a wooden dining table and chairs, a gas stove, and a sink. But there’s no refrigerator, and I don’t see any lamps around. So it isn’t wired for electricity.
I turn on one of the stove burners. There’s a sound of gas escaping, and the smell of propane floods my nose. I press a small red button on the stove, which creates a spark, lighting it up. “Stove works.”
Aiden nods as he heads to the sink and turns on the faucet. A strong jet of water comes shooting out. “Huh, artesian well. Natural water pressure.”
“Nice.”
“But only cold.”
