Silver, Montana

Chapter 3: Night howls

“Go and take whatever you need from your car, I’ll arrange something for you with my brother,” Kieran added, turning to Owen.

Retracing her earlier footsteps, Emily retrieved a large bag from the Jeep. She had packed it the previous evening, in hope that they would change their mind and let her stay. She did high-five herself mentally for it. Her clothes were filthy, she couldn’t have worn them again. She transferred what she needed from her backpack, adding her laptop, an extra battery and her solar charger and threw the rest in the boot. Unless the weather improved dramatically, they were not going out tomorrow.

She tried to call Bob on the satellite phone, but the mountains were interfering and she couldn’t get through. Swinging the strap of her bag across her chest, she followed her tracks back to the men.

Kieran smirked at the sight.

“Did you bring your whole wardrobe with you? You were not even supposed to stay! You’d have needed a trailer otherwise…”

She ignored the sarcasm.

“I like to be well prepared and the forecast is very uncertain in these mountains as you might have noticed. So, were do I go now?”

Owen moved forward:

“You’ll be staying at my house, I have a spare room, and it’s en-suite. My wife will be delighted.”

Emily nodded.

“Thanks, it’s very nice of you. Your brother is very protective of his sofa.”

Owen cocked a questioning eyebrow at Kieran, who shook his head.

“Don’t ask.”

Shrugging, Owen motioned her through the door.

The cabin looked fairly identical to Kieran’s from the front, but it was deeper and higher, allowing for an attic bedroom, accessible by a ladder and a trapdoor. Owen placed her bag in it and guided her to the kitchen table. Little Jean was already seated while his mother was busy taking a tray out of the oven. Lowering it carefully on a quilted cloth, she smiled to her guest:

“I hope you’ll like it, it’s my husband’s favorite: roast deer in red wine and baked potatoes.”

Mustering her best expression of fake delight, Emily answered:

“I’ve never tried, but it sounds mouth watering.”

She wasn’t very found of game, or red meat in general. Fortunately, tonight she was famished enough to eat anything.

“Is Kieran not staying?”

“No, he has stuff to do before nightfall,” grumbled Owen.

Emily tasted the meat and found it surprisingly tender, although a little too strong and red for her taste, and filled herself with the sauce and the potatoes. Beside her, Owen was devouring the contents of his plate, getting a disapproving glance from his wife, to which he responded with an apologetic grin. Jean paid no attention to his surroundings and gorged himself.

Emily leaned back in her chair. She felt full and relaxed, her eyes closing by themselves.

Sophie noticed her heavy eyelids:

“Please feel free to go to your room, you had a very long day, you must be exhausted!”

“Thanks, I will do just that. I’m sorry for being so antisocial, it’s so kind of you to take me in tonight. I really appreciate it. And Sophie, you are a great chef.”

Sophie beamed at her and led her to her room.

“If you need anything, call me!» she said before leaving, closing the trapdoor behind her.

Emily walked around the room, careful not to hit her head on the low ceiling at the heaves. It was spacious, with wood everywhere. The roof window was double glazed, covered in snow and on closer investigation, nailed shut. There must have been something wrong with it, she thought. The en-suite was small, with simple white tiles.

She arranged her toiletries on the shelves, and decided against emptying her bag. She might not stay long. She took out her nightwear, placed her clean clothes on the chest of drawers, beside the bowl of fruits and the jug of water, and indulged in a warm shower. Slipping on her fleece pajamas, she tried to open the trapdoor to wish goodnight to her hosts, but it didn’t budge.

“Sophie?”

“Yes dear?”

“I wanted to tell you goodnight but you might want to know that the trapdoor is stuck!”

“It’s not stuck sweetheart, it’s locked, for your own safety. Don’t worry, we will let you out first thing tomorrow!”

“But…”

“Good night Emily.”

She heard footsteps going away then nothing. Sitting on the bed, she wondered what to think. The dinner seemed so normal; she hadn’t expected anything like that. What was happening at night that would need for her to be locked in? It reminded her of some fantasy vampire stories.

The dim light coming though the snow was fading away, and now that the opening in the floor was closed, so was the heat in the room.

She slid between the blankets, turning the small solar lamp off. There was nothing she could do, not until the morning anyway. Without news soon enough, Bob would worry. He would send to her rescue if needed.

Thinking was becoming difficult, the bed was too comfortable. Slowly, she drifted off to sleep.

The howling woke her up. It was powerful, and so close, it seemed to come from all directions at once. The sound must be bouncing on the mountains, she thought drowsily. Forcing her eyes open, she checked her watch: midnight. A faint glow emanated from the roof window; the full moon was soon, in two days. It might be why the wolves were so excited.

Another powerful howl, right outside the house.

Emily frowned: it wasn’t usual. Wolves didn’t wander into inhabited areas. She heard shuffling downstairs and assumed it was Owen, probably getting out to chase the animals away. The ladder was dragged on the floor below, followed by the bang of a chair falling. He was clumsy; his amazing sense of orientation didn’t seem that efficient in the dark. Claws scratched the wood, and the front door opened. There were faint footsteps, not human though. Did they have dogs?  The door closed, and then nothing.

Emily listened for another while, in vain. Everything was silent. She snuggled in the warmth and resumed her night.