First Thrills - Lee Child [28]
Maty stood paralyzed by the beauty of the moonlight on the water. A chill slid down her back. She shook her head and hugged the bag to her chest. It was a lake in the woods in the dark, and it was chilly. Did she really believe she’d be like Thoreau, escaping to the woods and Walden Pond to find some inner peace or a deeper meaning to her life? She did know one thing that guaranteed inner peace and was much quicker. A nice bottle of Bordeaux.
She started to turn back toward the cabin when she saw something move down by the lake. She strained to see. It looked like a man moving, sneaking between the trees, almost as if hiding.
Her stomach plunged and her knees went weak. She crouched down so suddenly she crunched leaves and almost lost her flashlight.
Did he hear that? Could he see her? She held her breath and listened. Behind the shrubs she could barely see. She pushed herself up on wobbly knees, just enough to see down by the lake. He wasn’t there. Was he hiding? She couldn’t see him. Her eyes darted around the shore, up and down the steep edges, between the trees.
The man was gone. He had disappeared as suddenly as he had appeared. She stayed crouching, waiting as though she expected him to appear again. Then she wondered, Had there been anyone there at all? Or was it simply her stressed and overactive imagination? They said her grandfather had started to hallucinate before the madness.
She needed to stop this or she would really drive herself mad. He could be a groundskeeper or a hiker or someone simply enjoying an evening stroll around the lake. It was a beautiful evening, after all. Not everyone went mad after dark.
The cabin was rustic but cozy with a fireplace, kitchenette, one small bedroom and modern bath that included a shower. The back door walked out onto an attached screened-in porch that overlooked the treetops and the lake. The moonlight illuminated the cabin through the windows and skylights. The reflection off the lake lit the entire porch.
Shadows of branches danced on the walls and suddenly they looked too much like skeleton arms reaching down for her. Maty flipped on every light switch and every lamp. Then she started to unpack her staples. She needed to get something to eat. Or more important, pour something to drink. Settle in. Lock down.
She didn’t remember falling asleep.
There was a scream and then a clap of thunder. Maty woke with a jerk, almost knocking herself out of the lounge chair on the porch. At first she didn’t know where she was. Her head felt heavy, her vision blurred from too much wine. It took a flicker of lightning to remind her.
But why was it dark? She glanced back inside the cabin. She knew she had left every single light on. She reached for the lamp she had dragged out onto the porch and turned the switch. Nothing. She tried again as another flash of lightning forked across the black sky. The thunder that followed rattled the floorboards. William had warned her about thunderstorms. She hated when he was right. Another clap of thunder and the rain started, a torrential downpour, with no signs of letting up. She liked the sound of rain. There was something comforting about its natural rhythms and the fresh scent of scrubbed wood and dirt.
That’s when she remembered the scream. She was sure it was a scream that had awakened her.
Maty tried to get out of the chair, but her head begin to twirl. The wine. She must have drunk the whole bottle. She pushed against the arms of the chair. She tried the lamp switch again. Nothing. The electricity was off. In the dark she fumbled around and found her flashlight. What she really wanted to find was the Advil.
The downpour continued, but now the wind pushed it through the screen of the porch. She grabbed her book and blanket before they got soaked. She started to retreat inside, but as she reached for the wineglass she saw a flash of light down by the lake.
Not lightning, or was it?
She gulped what was