Chapter 6 - Shadows in the Woods
Autumn arrived on the Olympic Peninsula, painting the maple trees in brilliant shades of amber and crimson. The air grew crisp and cold, demanding a constant fire in the cabin's wood stove. Noah had begun attending a small, local kindergarten in Hoodsport under an assumed name for safety, and for a short while, we tasted a fragile normalcy.
But safety is an illusion when the threat is still hunting you.
It started with small things. A gate left unlatched at the edge of my father's property. The sound of dry branches snapping in the dense forest just beyond the clearing late at night.
One evening, my father returned from checking his game cameras—motion-activated cameras he had set up along the perimeter of the five acres after we arrived.
He didn't say anything to Noah, who was happily building a Lego castle on the living room rug, but he caught my eye and gestured for me to join him in the kitchen.
Dad unlocked his laptop and pulled up a digital image. The photo was taken at 2:14 AM, two nights prior, by a camera positioned near the old logging road that marked the northern boundary of his land.
The image was grainy, illuminated only by the infrared flash, but there was no mistaking the figure. It was a man wearing a dark hoodie, his face partially obscured, but the height, the broad build, and the distinct, aggressive posture were unmistakable.
It was Evan.
My hand flew to my mouth, a cold sweat breaking out across my collarbone. “He found us,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Dad, he’s out there.”
“He is,” Dad said, his voice deadly calm. He closed the laptop. “He’s scouting the area. He’s trying to figure out my routine, when I leave for town, when you’re home alone with Noah. He doesn’t realize these cameras send alerts directly to my satellite phone.”
“We have to call the police!” I cried, looking frantically toward the living room where Noah was laughing at a Lego block that had fallen over.
“I’ve already sent the photos to the county sheriff,” Dad said. “They’re sending a deputy out, but Federal Way is a long way from here, and the local sheriff’s office only has two cars on patrol for this whole sector at night. It could take them thirty minutes to get here if we call.”
He walked over to a locked gun cabinet in the corner of his study. He unlocked it, revealing a clean, well-maintained hunting rifle and a shotgun. He didn't take them out, but he kept the key in his pocket.
“I don’t want you or Noah leaving the cabin without me,” my father said, turning to face me. His eyes were fierce, filled with the protective instinct of a father wolf. “We keep the deadbolts locked. We keep the curtains drawn after dark. If he steps foot on this porch, Lena, I will do what needs to be done to protect my family.”
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That night, I didn't sleep. I lay in bed, listening to the wind howling through the giant Douglas firs, staring at the dark ceiling. Every creek of the old wooden cabin sounded like a footstep. Every shadow outside the window looked like a man waiting in the dark.
I realized then that we would never truly be free until Evan was caught. He was a shadow hanging over our lives, a monster waiting in the woods, and the confrontation was coming.
