Hexad (5 page)

After all that you have been through previously, you can’t even be bothered to check that the door is locked properly?

Desperately searching around the living area of the cabin, she spotted exactly what she needed. Running over, she pulled away the four chairs and grabbed the edge of the large dining table and began to drag it towards the main entrance. The table was solid pine and difficult for one person to move on their own. With sheer determination, fuelled by fear and adrenaline, she began to drag it inch by inch towards the entrance. The heavy wooden legs moaned in defiance as they scraped against the floor.

Stop making so much noise, he will hear you.

Who cares?

He's out there and there's a storm raging.

Painstakingly, she completed the task and swapped to the other end of the table. One last surge of strength and she managed to push the table up against the main door.
Safer
-
for now
.

Heading quickly back towards the conservatory window, she dared another glance out over the lake, the landscape still being battered by the elements as she stared intently. Except for the noise of the wind, and rain or the odd rumble of thunder or flash of lightning, there were no signs of movement at all.

Was it a flash of lightning? But what about the figure, I could have sworn there was a figure?

Checking her mobile again, the signal strength displayed no bars and an exclamation mark was shown in its place. Quickly running through to the living area, she grabbed the phone receiver and placed it against her ear, her heart lifting as she heard a dialling tone.

Remembering that Cathy was missing, she considered her first phone call. With the possibility of someone lurking outside near the lake, it was best if she tried to warn her friend first. Besides, she had no idea how long it would take the police to get out here and perhaps Cathy was in a position to get help more quickly.

Copying the number from the address book on her mobile phone, she dialled and waited patiently, the receiver shaking as it rested in her trembling hand. A few seconds passed, the call connected and the phone started to ring.

Thank God
.

The phone continued to ring, five times, ten times.

Come on Cathy, pick up.

Her friend’s chirpy voice echoed in the earpiece. Before Lisa could respond, the voice explained that she couldn’t get to the phone right now and please leave a message after the beep.

Shit, Voice mail.

Slamming the phone down on the receiver, she hesitated – thinking. She grabbed it for a second time and pressed re-dial. The same sequence of events panned out – dialling tone, connection, before the phone rang out and went to voice mail.

Damn it, Cathy. Where are you?

Replacing the hand set down onto the cradle she stopped and considered her options. Unable to get through to Cathy, she picked the phone up, placed it to her ear and began to dial. 9-9…

The phone line went dead.

Quickly tapping the receiver down on the phone three or four times, her worst fear was confirmed – the phone line was no longer working.
It had been there just a few seconds ago.
  The sound of the storm continued to batter the cabin from outside.
Had the storm knocked it out again? Or had it been cut?

Trepidation began to rise from her stomach to her throat. Lisa swallowed heavily. Searching around the living area, she hunted for something - anything that could be used as a weapon. Spotting a cast iron poker hanging beside the open fire place, she quickly grabbed it. Its substantial weight balanced between her two hands made her feel more secure.

Looking into the mouth of the open fire place, another despairing thought entered her mind – another point of entry.
What if he comes down the chimney? Should I start a fire? No, that would bring attention to the cabin.

Checking around once more, she searched for something that could be used to obstruct the opening to the fireplace.
Sure, it was a fairly big fireplace, but was it large enough for a man to fit through?
Considering the dining table that was held up against the main door, she felt that it was in the best place to act as a barricade. Darting over to the dining chairs that were left strewn in the corner, she grabbed one and stuffed it into the opening of the fireplace, at the most awkward angle that it would fit, continuing with another two in the hope that it would be enough to stop anyone from trying to enter the cabin from up on the roof.

Snatching the poker and her mobile phone from the kitchen surface, she sprinted back to the conservatory doors, once more looking out into the carnage of the storm. She kept a few steps back from the glass in the fear that someone may suddenly appear face to face.

Come on you bastard, I know you’re out there.

Standing, she observed, her weapon in her hands ready to fight – ready to make her stand. In the distance, she saw it again, a flash of light from within the trees. Only a momentary burst before disappearing into darkness.

Panic quickly took hold and wiped any thoughts of confrontation from her mind. Retreating, she ran for the bedroom, grabbing the last chair from the dining set and dragging it into the room behind her. Throwing her mobile phone and the poker down onto the bed covers, she darted into the living area and grabbed two of the burning candles, extinguishing the remaining ones as she ran back into the bedroom.  Slamming the door behind her, she wedged the backrest of the chair up under the handle. She pulled the door, it was secure, not perfect, but it would do.

The exact vision of her night terror from earlier lay before her, the bed, the linen, even down to the red and black striped duvet cover.
Of course it’s the same, you came in here and saw it when you first arrived in the cabin you idiot
.

Slowly, she approached the foot of the bed, trying not to let her imagination run away with her.
It was just a dream, get a grip.
She placed the two candles on the bedside table and tentatively sat at the head of the bedstead with the pillows propping up her back.

Placing the poker and her mobile beside her on the bed, she glanced at her phone, the time on the display read 2:23 am. Raising her knees to her chin, she began to hug them resisting the overwhelming urge to cry. Sitting perfectly still, she sat waiting - listening.

The elements continued to batter the cabin from outside, with her heightened sense of anxiety, every little sound was intensified. Wind howled, thunder clapped, and rain fell like artillery shells. She thought that she had heard glass smash and several times she could swear that she heard banging on the cabin door. She refused to move, willing to sit it out until help arrived.
What if help didn’t arrive?
Thoughts trailed back to the incident in her old apartment, the same feelings of fear, anxiety and desperation.

It took about two hours for the storm to clear properly, the sounds of the thunder eventually becoming more distant, less frequent. The intensity of the rain began to subside to the point that Lisa was unsure whether it was raining at all. From outside the cabin came total silence, calm.

Looking at her phone, the time displayed 4:15 am.

Remaining in bed, she continued to listen.

Nothing.

After about half an hour, suddenly, the lamp beside the bed began to twitch and suddenly burst into life, the sudden illumination causing her to jump. She checked her mobile. 4:53 am, still no signal.

After waiting a few more moments, Lisa got out of bed and placed her ear up against the bedroom door; she heard nothing from outside, total silence. Carefully, she removed the chair and pulled it to one side. Slowly turning the handle, she opened the door outward, wincing as it squeaked on its hinges. She checked the main entrance; the door was secure and the dining table was still pushed into place against the door, undisturbed. Crossing the room, she placed the phone and poker down on the dining room table and began to pull it away from the entrance before stopping.
Don’t be stupid, don’t go outside.

The first light of dawn had begun to creep its way into the early morning sky and into the cabin through the conservatory windows. Heading over to the phone in the main living area she picked up the receiver and put it to her ear, comforted and relieved by the sound of the dialling tone.

Thank God.

Beginning to dial, she turned and the sight before her made her freeze, her jaw dropped open and she dropped the phone.

Poking out from between the cluttered chairs in the fire place; Lisa saw the torso of her friend, Cathy, protruding from a twisted, broken angle – her face and hair matted in dried blood and mud, her grey tongue lolling from her mouth and a deep gash down her breasts to her abdomen exposed bloody organs, leaking viscera onto the wooden floor of the cabin.

Lisa screamed as loudly as her lungs would allow – but it wasn’t loud enough to drown out the noise of the bolts beginning to give as someone threw their weight against the main door.

*****

Crawling on her hands and knees through the mud and tree roots, she clambered deeper into the trees, attempting to grip on to any loose debris or foliage that would aid in her forward motion. Rain continued to hammer down, she was soaked through, the filthy trousers and jacket of her work suit clung to her body making it difficult to move. Her shoes had been lost in the mud and the sharp branches and rocks scratched and cut at her bare feet.

Through the rain and mud soaked fringe of her hair, she could barely make out the faint lights from the cabin in the distance. Sobbing uncontrollably, she swiped the hair back from her face with a wet, muddy hand. Over the noise of the downfall and in between the clapping of thunder came the mocking laughter from the figure that slowly walked through the mud behind her, dragging his feet.

Turning onto her back in the sticky mush beneath her, she stared up at him. The black clothing that he wore offered no protection from the rain, he was as soaked through as she was; he just didn’t care.

She shouted at him “What do you want from me?”

He offered no response. He tilted his head slightly to the left as if thinking and then simply shrugged his shoulders. A huge bolt of blue and yellow lightning lit up the sky above him exposing the sheer size and weight of the man. Standing at well over six feet, his rain-sodden clothes clung to his frame and displayed the defined muscles upon his huge physique - the man was a complete beast.

Reaching a bleeding and filthy hand into the inside pocket of her jacket pocket, she pulled out her mobile phone. She held it up towards the man and depressed the button on the side of the device that activated the camera.

The blinding light that came from the flash stopped the man for a split second, before he stormed forward. Her phone held out in front ready to take another picture, she never saw her attackers foot connect with her wrist, sending the mobile device spinning into the air, landing in the mud three feet away. She never spotted the overhand right that followed, connecting with her jaw, fracturing bone and loosening teeth. The blow left her semi-conscious and her world spinning. She lay on her back in the mud, the rain mixing up the dirt and blood on her mangled face. The man looked down at her, laughing menacingly.

A shrill repetitive sound disturbed him from a few feet away. Ignoring her groans of pain, he kicked her hard in the stomach, she collapsed on her side in agony, coughing up blood. Locating the source of the noise, he picked up the mobile phone and looked at the display. The message ‘Cabin Number Calling’ flashed in the display. Ignoring it, he placed the phone into his trouser pocket. A few seconds later, the noise stopped.

She looked up at the figure before her, the man’s face hidden behind the balaclava, another bolt of lightning lit up the sky and Cathy knew it was her time to die. Praying that he would make it quick, she watched him pull a large hunting knife from the sheath on the back of his belt. The shrill noise of the mobile phone ringing once more in his pocket was the last noise that she heard; it was muffled by the sound of her own scream as her attacker thrust the hunting knife into the side of her abdomen and began to cut and tear upwards through soaked flesh and solid muscle.

Within a few minutes, she had bled out completely on the saturated ground, her eyes rolled back in her head, her mouth agape in a hushed scream.

Removing the mobile phone from his pocket, the man held it up in the rain and held down the button, taking a picture of his victim. The bright light from the flash briefly added to the illumination of the lightning from within the trees.

Laughing, the man placed the phone back into his pocket and the hunting knife back into the sheath on his belt. Knelt on one knee in the mud next to his victim, he lifted one of her lifeless arms over his shoulder and, using brute strength and leverage, he threw Cathy’s dead body over his shoulder into a fireman’s lift.

Her head and arms hung limp down his back swaying from side to side with every step that he took, a mixture of blood, rain and mud dripped from the ends of her hair and fingertips to the ground below, the contents of her abdominal cavity slowly began to escape down the man’s shoulder and chest. Slowly, he made his way towards the main entrance of the dark cabin.