Blood Games

    Halfway across, the water level began to lower. It uncovered her shoulders, descended her back. When it reached her waist, she turned around. ‘A piece of cake,’ she said. ‘And it’s nice and cool.’ Instead of continuing to the other side, she squatted and dunked her head again.

    Finley leaped in, waving the plastic bottle and bag of chips overhead.

    Vivian looked down at her white Reeboks. She crouched, untied the lace of her right shoe, hesitated, apparently changed her mind about removing her shoes, then retied the lace and stepped off the rock.

    Abilene, afraid she might lose her moccasins in the water, took them off. Clutching them tightly in one hand, she jumped. The water swarmed up her body. She gasped at the unexpected chill of it. Her bare feet met slippery rocks on the bottom. They slid out from under her, but she grabbed a breath of air before her head plunged into the cold.

    Once submerged, she was in no hurry to rise.

    The water felt incredibly wonderful. She imagined steam rising off her skin.

    But there was no time to waste, so she swam forward underwater, surfaced just behind Vivian, and saw that Cora was already climbing out.

    As Finley and Vivian boosted themselves onto the rocks, she dropped into the coldness one more time. Then she scurried up the outcropping. She shook water out of her moccasins, slipped into them, and followed the others back into the shadows of the forest.

    The water on her skin and clothes was like a cool shield against the heat. Making her way through the woods beyond the northern end of the lake, she felt refreshed and strong, and even found herself strangely optimistic about Helen.

    Maybe they’d blown her disappearance out of all proportion. Maybe there was a simple, innocent explanation. She’d just gone wandering off. Thought she’d do some exploring. Come back later and pick up her shoes. Maybe she’d stretched out in the shade somewhere and fallen asleep. It was possible. She might’ve been too nervous - or hungry - to get much sleep last night. But in the light of day, and after eating half a bag of tortilla chips, drowsiness could’ve overcome her.

    She might be wandering around the lodge right now, looking for them, worried sick, thinking they were the ones who’d disappeared.

    Abilene considered mentioning this to the others, but decided to keep quiet. They would only point out flaws in her reasoning and depress her again.

    As she followed them across a bright pasture, the sunlight baked the last of the lingering coolness out of her wet clothes and skin. Hot and sweaty, she realized her hopeful scenario about Helen was probably ridiculous. Nothing more than wishful thinking. She tried to hold onto it, but just couldn’t.

    Helen didn’t wander off and fall asleep. She was grabbed and taken away.

    We might never find her.

    We might never see her again.

    What’ll we tell Tony? The hell with Tony. He gave her all kinds of crap. He’ll probably be glad to be rid of her, the bastard. We’re the ones who care about her. We’re the ones who love her.

    What’ll we do if…?

    Cora suddenly leaped sideways and crouched against a tree. She raised a hand to warn the others. They rushed up behind her. Huddling near her back, they peered around the trunk.

    At first, Abilene saw only more trees and rocks and bushes in the gloom ahead. Then she noticed some sort of platform surrounded by a railing of split wood. A rocking chair sat empty on the platform. Wooden stairs led down to a sloping ground. A porch? That’s what it was all right. And now that Abilene recognized it, she was able to make out the vague shape of the log cabin that hovered in the shadows behind it.

    The bark of the cabin’s walls blended in with the trunks of the nearby trees. Its roof - if it had a roof - was hidden under a canopy of branches and leaves. The cabin seemed almost to be a natural part of the forest. As if it hadn’t been built by humans. As if it had simply grown there.

    ‘I don’t see anyone,’ Cora whispered. ‘Let’s check it out.’

    Abilene half expected her to stride straight over to the cabin, but she didn’t. Instead, crouching low, she rushed forward about fifteen feet and ducked behind another tree. The others followed.

    From there, Abilene could see a couple of old sheds behind the cabin. They were surrounded by a lush, sunlit garden. In front of the cabin, some distance beyond the end of its porch, was a long-handled water pump. The ground sloped down about fifty feet to the lake. A weathered rowboat, moored to the shore by a block of concrete serving as an anchor, floated under the droopy limbs of a willow. Its oars lay across the bow and center bench seats.

    ‘What do you think?’ Abilene whispered.

    ‘Sure looks like someone lives here,’ Vivian said.