Chapter Fourteen
It had gotten darker and colder outside while Erin was inside with Charile enjoying her warm tea. She ran as fast as she could to her car to retrieve her coat. Her window had been down and the temperature inside the car had fallen below freezing. She turned the car heater on full blast even though she knew it would blow cold air until the engine warmed.
Erin pulled out of the parking lot fully intending to go home when she noticed the reader board by the front doors of the Temple. There was a meeting of the lodge that night. The first and third Thursdays of the month—7:00 p.m. the board read. It was 5:45 p.m.--her mind raced. She could go get a bite to eat and return there to see who showed up for the lodge meeting. If this was such an upright and respected place, she should be able to easily see who attends the meeting.
Erin turned toward town instead of toward home. She went to the diner on Main Street. The special tonight, it said on the window, was meatloaf and mashed potatoes. For some reason, that sounded very good. Good comfort food—food to warm the soul. She thought of Charlie right then. She thought he would really like to have a meal like this. She thought she should take one to him.
Erin ordered the meatloaf special and a cup of coffee. The meal was as good as it smelled. Charlie’s soda cracker was all she had eaten since breakfast. She wolfed down the meal and sat for a while sipping on her coffee. The waitress refilled her coffee for the third time. She finally felt a bit warmer. She wouldn’t be able to sleep that night with all the caffeine, but she could only think about how good it felt at the moment. The rest of the night would have to take care of itself.
Erin ordered a meatloaf special to go for Charlie. She had to go back there anyway, and she knew he would love it. She paid the check with her only $20 bill. She left a few coins on the table and the waitress thanked her for coming in. The waitress had a Styrofoam cup of hot coffee at the door as Erin left. “Here you go, Honey,” she said. “Anyone who can eat two meatloaf specials deserves a cup of Joe to go.”
“Oh, no,” she protested. “This is for a friend.”
“Sure it is, honey,” she winked. “I saw you inhale your plate. Then I saw you look at that $20 like it was the last money you had on earth. I know when someone is down on their luck. You just enjoy that meal again and have a free cup of coffee on me.”
Erin was near tears. The waitress was so sweet and Erin felt so foolish. She probably was down on her luck, but she had hoped it wasn’t obvious. That was the last money she had on this earth. But she had hope. She and Tim were just going through a rough patch at the moment.
She motored back to the parking lot of the Masonic Lodge. There were two cars parked in the lot, both facing the front door. Perfect, she thought. She would pull in beside them. Erin had a direct line-of-sight to the front door. No one could enter without her seeing them. Large floodlights illuminated the G in the middle of the compass and square above the front door.
The darkly tinted windows of her car would allow no one to see inside. She scrunched down in the seat and picked up her coffee. The side windows were starting to steam up from the hot cup. She took a chance and started her engine to defrost the windows for a moment.
No new cars had arrived as Erin turned off the engine. Ten minutes before the meeting was to start several cars arrived, and then a steady stream poured into the parking lot. Erin got out a pad and pencil from her briefcase. She wanted to jot down the name of anyone she knew who walked through those doors.
Before the first member got to the front door, three men stepped out from inside the lodge. One stayed by the door and two came down the steps. These two had lighted Tiki torches. They stood on either side of the front steps. Erin guessed that those two guardians of light represented the two pillars outside King Solomon’s Temple.
Several gentlemen arrived at the foot of the stairs, each with their left foot first, ascending the stairs. Each stopped by the man standing at the door. Each, individually, leaned in to the doorman and then the doorman opened up the Temple to them. That doorman, no doubt, was the Junior Warden, the first one to which each member had to give the appropriate password. She could imagine that the Senior Warden guarded the next set of doors where the members would again need to give the correct password.
She remembered in her research on the Masons, how the password was required to keep out eavesdroppers. Their history tells of “eavesdroppers” who were literally people who attempted to listen under the eaves of the temples and received the droppings from the roof. They were considered thieves who tried to steal the knowledge instead of working for the knowledge. Kind of like me, she guessed. She would be considered an eavesdropper and a thief. Except, she was just trying to understand this cult. She didn’t particularly want to join, and couldn’t join because she was a female. This was a male-only club.
Erin watched in awe as cars filed in to the lot, parked and emptied. The first person she recognized was the Sheriff and two of his deputies, still in their uniforms. She wrote down their names, cussing under her breath that she knew she couldn’t trust them. Then she saw some businessmen she knew by sight, but didn’t know their names. She wrote down their business names for future reference. A group of four came from one car. Erin’s mouth dropped open. She did recognize these four. One was the principal of the local elementary school and the three others were teachers. She knew them because she used to work with them. She wrote down their names.
They were coming faster now, but Erin easily recognized most of them by name. The local police chief, Chief Walters. There was a little, older man with him—she strained to see who it was. Erin gasped; it was Kelly from the bank—the security guard from the bank. She scratched the names on her pad. Then the mayor and two city councilmen ascended the stairs. She jotted their names down. Then a very familiar face, the state representative, Jesse Colter, rose to the top of the stairs to give his password.
Charlie was right; this was a place of leaders, politicians, professionals, but also just a few common people. They were probably Apprentices to the Mason. They hadn’t received the full knowledge of the cult. Then our city manager, Kevin Sparks, nd then our mail carrier, Poky Higgins, arrived.
Erin couldn’t write fast enough to keep up. Her mind was reeling with faces and names of friends and business leaders. Her very own veterinarian and his colleague, Dr. Jones and Dr. Blue; Judge George Ball; Librarian Robert Steel; Chamber of Commerce Director Richard Liam; the roster grew. One of the last, and possibly the most shocking to see was her very own personal, physician, Dr. Thomason.
At exactly 7:00 p.m. the line of members had dwindled to all but the three guards at the front door. Erin’s notepad was full of names of members she had seen with her own eyes come to the Warden, give the password, and be allowed to enter the chambers. Then to her surprise, the double front doors opened, and a tall person stepped out onto the porch. She couldn’t see his face as he was wearing a long dark robe with a hood pulled up over his head. He looked around and the three door guards entered the building. The unknown man with the hood pulled both doors shut behind him. Erin assumed that the doors were now locked and no one else was welcome to enter.
She sat and looked at her list. Erin was dumbfounded. She had no idea that every person in her town, who was anybody, was a member of the Freemasons secret society. She sat alone for a few more minutes and when she felt it was safe, she picked up the diner special and went to the back door to give it to Charlie.
A dim light shone through the kitchen door. Erin knocked softly as to not make a lot of unnecessary noise. She didn’t hear anything from inside the kitchen. She knocked a little harder, but still no answer. She tried the door handle to see if it was locked. It moved freely and she opened the door slightly. “Charlie,” she whispered. “Charlie, are you here?”
Still hearing no answer, Erin laid the foam take-out container on the table. She quietly walked toward the bedroom to find Charlie. “Charlie, are you here?”
The bathroom and bedroom lights were off. There was nowhere else for him to be. He must be out somewhere. He isn’t a member, so he couldn’t be in the inner chambers. He must be out to the store or the Laundromat.
As Erin looked around the kitchen, she spotted a door next to the wood stove. Maybe Charlie was in a storage room. She went to the door to see if it would open. She tried the handle but it seemed to be locked. Or maybe this door went into the inner chambers. Maybe she could get a peek at what was inside. Maybe she could be an eavesdropper. She rattled the handle again, thinking it might be stuck.
“Erin!! What are you doing?” a voice boomed from behind her.
Erin jumped and spun around. Charlie was standing directly behind her and looked very unhappy. “Where do you think you are going?”
She looked like a deer caught in a car’s headlights. “I, I,” was all she could stammer. “I was looking for you, Charlie. I was trying to find you.”
He didn’t believe her. She wouldn’t have believed herself either under the circumstances. She tried to talk to Charlie and get his mind off her snooping. “I brought you a delicious dinner special. Meatloaf and mashed potatoes.” Erin was speaking rapidly, too rapidly. She sounded too much like she was lying. But she was telling the truth, sort of.
He had a paper bag in his hand and he laid it softly on the kitchen table. He never took his eyes off her as Erin crossed the room to hand him his dinner. She couldn’t look him in the eyes. She knew at that moment he believed she was not the trustworthy person she claimed to be. Maybe he knew Erin was an eavesdropper.
“I’m really sorry, Charlie,” she apologized. “I was trying to find you, honestly.” Erin finally had the courage to look him square in the eyes.
“OK,” he answered without much conviction. He looked at the Styrofoam container on the table and continued, “That was very thoughtful of you to bring me dinner. I suppose you also saw some of the members coming to the meeting tonight, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” she replied. “But I got here just a few minutes ago, and really didn’t see many,” she lied.
“Must have been pretty lucky to find a parking space,” he probed.
“Someone was pulling out of a space as I was coming in,” she continued to lie. “I guess I was lucky. Well, Charlie, I need to get home. I am sure my husband is wondering where I am. I want you to trust me, Charlie. I want to be your friend. Are we still friends?”
“Of course, my dear. But I want you to promise me something. OK?”
“Sure, Charlie, anything.”
“I want you to promise to be honest with me--to always tell me the truth. Can you do that?” his eyebrow raised.
She looked down at her feet. “I can and will. Can I come back tomorrow?”
“You sure can,” he answered as he put his trusting arms out to her. “I will be anxiously awaiting your return.”
The ride home was intense. The rain was driving against her car’s windshield and the headlights afforded little illumination on the dark road ahead. Her wipers were on high speed and still not able to keep up with the pounding rain. She squinted as the approaching car lights flashed into her car much like the beacon of a lighthouse as it rounded its message to ships at sea. Her mind was not on her driving, but on all the events that had happened that night. Her mind was replaying the parade of people going to their meeting tonight at the Masonic Lodge. Their names and faces would be etched into her memory for all time.
No one she saw that night, except for Charlie, was anyone she could seek for comfort and help. She felt desperately alone. The waitress in the diner was absolutely correct. Erin was down on her luck. Her whole life seemed to be spiraling out of control. Tears drifted from her eyes, down her cheeks. No one believed her, not even her husband, that the Masons were an evil force. There is something very evil going on in this community and it all comes to a nexus at that Lodge, where nearly every man living in this area walked into tonight.
Erin’s car lights flashed on the side of her house as she swung the car into the parking area. She noticed immediately that the front porch light was not on. As she looked in the windows, she could see that no lights were on in the house either.
Erin fished out the flashlight from the back seat and shined it around the property. Tim’s truck was not there. He must have left before dark and had yet to return. Maybe he was looking for her. Erin took the flashlight with her as she fumbled for the door keys. As she walked to the porch, she shined the light at the keyhole. The door was slightly ajar. She walked with trepidation to the open door and slowly pushed on it. She flashed the light around the entryway and listened to hear any noise. Nothing. No one seemed to be in the house.
Erin slowly and carefully stepped into the house. This was against all Tim had ever taught her. He had always insisted that if she ever came home to the house and it looked like something was wrong, she was to call 9-1-1 and never, stressing “never,” go in alone. Wait for the police to make sure no one was in the house. But two things were wrong with that scenario. One—she didn’t trust the police; and two—even if she could trust them, it would take them forever to get here. She was a big girl, she thought, and could take care of herself. So in she went.
Erin walked toward the living room where the nearest table lamp would be, all the while shining her light in every corner, around every chair. She couldn’t see that anyone was there or had been there. She told herself that the door probably didn’t shut tightly when Tim left and the wind accompanying the drenching rainstorm probably pushed it open. Of course, she told herself. That must have been it.
Erin reached the first table lamp and switched it on. It illuminated the room and hallway to the master bedroom. She turned off the flashlight and went into the kitchen. She switched on the light and stored the flashlight on the counter.
Erin looked, without success, for a note from Tim. Nothing. She guessed they had graduated from leaving short, terse notes of their whereabouts, to leaving nothing at all. She could feel a headache coming on and retrieved aspirin from the cupboard. She swilled down two with a full glass of cool water. Erin was suddenly very tired and didn’t feel like confronting Tim when he came home. She thought she would go straight to bed.
Erin switched off the kitchen light, but left on the front room light for Tim. He was still her husband even though they weren’t very close right now. She still loved him and still wanted to be considerate.
Erin walked down the hall to their bedroom. The light from the front room gave off enough dim light that she was able to walk to her nightstand and switch on the light beside their bed. Erin was facing her side of the bed as the light flashed on. There, staring back at her was Rocky. She stood upright with a start. She inhaled deeply. Erin could hear her heart pounding in her head. She could hear someone screaming. Who was screaming and why? Her eyes were frozen on Rocky’s eyes. They were gray and dull. Rocky was lying on Erin’s pillow and he was dead. And that incessant screaming; who is screaming? Why don’t they just shut up? She couldn’t think. She can’t breathe. What was Rocky doing in her bed? Why was he here?
Erin stepped back from this horrible scene until she bumped against the wall. She could hear herself breathing deeply and could still hear someone screaming. She looked again at Rocky. He was laying on Erin’s side of the bed, his head on her pillow, and his whole belly lay open. His teeth shone bright white, and his gums black. His eyes were dull gray. His fur was dull black.
Erin put her hands up to cover her ears from the screaming. She found herself unable to inhale. She needed to get out of the room. She ran toward the door and steadied herself on the doorsill. Erin took a deep breath and looked back once more at the grizzly scene. She kept her hands over her ears to try to block the screaming, but she couldn’t. The screams were insistent. She started down the hall to the light when a tall figure stepped in front of her. She could still hear the screams but darkness was clouding her vision. She could no longer breathe and then everything went black.
Chapter Fifteen
When Erin opened her eyes, she was lying on the sofa and Tim was sitting beside her. He had placed a wet washcloth on Erin’s forehead. He was holding her hand and stroking her skin. She looked up at him with terror in her eyes.
She sat up and cried, “Tim, did you see it? Did you see Rocky?”
“Just lie down here, honey,” he cooed. “You got yourself pretty upset over something and you need to get yourself under control.”
She slowly lay back on the sofa pillows. Her head was pounding despite the aspirin she had taken. “What happened?” she asked not wanting to believe what she was remembering.
“I came home and heard you screaming your head off. I stepped into the hallway as you were running out the bedroom door. I have never heard you scream like that. You ran into my arms and passed out cold.”
Erin sat up again, “Did you see Rocky on the bed?”
“What?” he cried. “Rocky? No, Rocky is not here. Rocky is dead.”
“I know that,” she snapped. “But he is dead on our bed.”
“Good, God, Erin,” he said his voice peppered with sarcasm. “Lie back down on the pillows.”
“But you have got to go into the bedroom and see for yourself. Rocky is in there. He is dead and his stomach is split wide open. He is just lying there,” she cried. “Go see him. Please, for the love of God, go into the bedroom and see that he is there.”
Tim grabbed her shoulders as she tried to sit up again. “Erin, there is something wrong with you. You are having a nervous breakdown or something. It is completely understandable with all the stress you have been under for the past several weeks. But Rocky was cremated a week ago. It would be impossible for his body to be on our bed.”
“Tim, please,” she begged. “Please, for me, go in to see. I know what I saw. I saw Rocky’s body on our bed. Please believe me.” Tears were now coming without abandonment. Erin was sobbing uncontrollably.
Tim rose from the sofa without saying a word. He looked down at her with either distaste or disbelief, she couldn’t tell which for sure. He went down the hall to the bedroom and then returned to her side.
“Nothing there, Erin,” he whispered. “Nothing there. No Rocky, no body, no blood, no hair, nothing.”
Erin pulled the washcloth from her forehead down over her face now awash in tears. She sobbed into the cloth now saturated in salt water. “I know what I saw,” she said muffled into the wetness. “I know I saw Rocky. He may not be there now, but he was.”
“OK, honey,” Tim said as he stroked Erin’s hair. “Maybe you thought you saw him. But he is gone now. You don’t have anything to be frightened about now. He is gone.”
Tim held Erin in his arms until the sobbing stopped. She eventually ran out of tears. “Let’s go to bed. You look exhausted,” he said. She was exhausted. That was one thing they both could agree on. But she also knew what she saw and he couldn’t make her believe that she didn’t see it.
They changed into their pajamas and crawled into bed. She looked all around for any sign, any clue that Rocky’s body was lying there earlier. She couldn’t see anything that would back up her story. Tim took Erin in his arms and stroked her hair.
“Will you do me a favor?”
“What” she asked.
“Will you go see Dr. Thomason tomorrow? Maybe he can prescribe something for you to help you through all this stuff we are dealing with right now.”
Memories are much like snapshot photography. Like a camera lens, you see images and they are stored inside your head as images from the camera are stored inside on film. When you have need to recall a memory, it flashes forward in your immediate conscience where you can recall that memory just like flipping through your photo albums recalling images of your snapshots.
When Tim mentioned Dr. Thomason, her memory flashed pictures of the good doctor, arriving at the Lodge that night, ascending the steps, leaning forward to whisper the password at the door, and entering the secret lodge meeting. She couldn’t tell Tim about Dr. Thomason. She couldn’t tell Tim about being at the Lodge that night. She couldn’t tell Tim all the people they both knew and trusted who belonged to that secret society. She couldn’t tell him because she had promised not to pursue the Masons any more. She couldn’t tell her own husband her innermost fears, her secrets, her lies.
“I guess I can call him tomorrow,” she finally answered. “I don’t think he will believe me anymore than you do. But maybe he can give me a pill.” Isn’t that always the answer to every problem? Just give me a pill and it will all go away.
Chapter Sixteen
A week went by and very few words were spoken between Tim and Erin. She was keeping lies and breaking promises and Tim was angry, at least that is what Erin thought. Erin never called Dr. Thomason. She found it impossible to seek confidence in her doctor, now that she knew he was a member of the Masons. The stress on their marriage was weighing heavily on her mind when she decided someone had to break the silence. Was this marriage worth saving? Had they been married for 14 years only to throw it away over an obsession she was unwilling to give up?
Erin decided that she wanted to try to make peace with Tim. She thought a quiet, peaceful dinner was a good place to start. Tim had gone into town that morning and she had all day to prepare. She cleaned the house, made homemade rolls, tossed a big salad, and was waiting for Tim to arrive home to throw some New York steaks on the grill. She lit candles and turned on quiet music. She was busy making last minute arrangements to the table when the front door flew open and a red-faced Tim stood there glaring at her, his hands full of papers of some sort.
Erin’s heart seemed to stop beating along with her breathing that was becoming labored. What on earth could be wrong with Tim? She slowly inched her way towards the front door. Tim stepped inside the room and slammed the door shut. The walls vibrated with the explosion of the door meeting the casing with such force. Tim seemed to grow larger as he approached Erin.
Her eyes were wide with questions. What was wrong? Why does Tim seem so angry? What could he have found?
He lifted a handful of papers and shook them in Erin’s face. “What is this all about?” He demanded an answer. “What is this crap all about?”
Erin recognized items from her brief case. Her stash of Mason research papers was a large part of the collection he was waving around before her. She remained motionless. She was afraid to move. She was almost afraid he was going to strike her. Erin swallowed slowly and opened her mouth.
“No need to answer,” Tim seethed through his teeth. “I know what you have been doing. I know you have been down to the Masonic Temple. I know you have been sneaking around behind my back—after promising that you wouldn’t. I know you have been going to the Lodge in some sort of demented attempt to find out some demonic thing that might be going on there.” He stopped to take a deep breath.
He then continued, “I know.” He took two steps toward her and raised his fist full of papers. “I know you sat out in your car one night and took down names of people attending a meeting at the Temple.”
Scared about where this was all heading, Erin tried to interrupt. “Please, let me explain.” That was all she got out her mouth.
Tim, getting angrier by the moment, flung the papers in Erin’s face. The weight of the paper hit Erin in the nose. After hitting her face, papers flew in all directions. Erin gasped at the outrage coming from her husband. Tears swelled in her eyes. She put a hand to her face to assess the damage. Tears rolled down her cheeks, dropping on her shirt. Sobs racked her body as she massaged her nose.
Tim continued to verbally attack Erin. “I met your little friend, Charlie. He told me all about your visit and how you were trying to get information out of him. Good God, Erin. How do you think this looks? What were you thinking? Do you have any idea what this will do to my reputation in town once this gets around?” His anger now had subsided somewhat. He turned and paced the floor while his hand went up in the air then down again as he continued to pepper Erin with questions he had no intention of letting her answer.
All Erin could do was stand there and sob uncontrollably. She put her face in her hands and wept. Tim spun around and spit out, “You disgust me.” And with that, he stomped out the door. Erin heard the pickup spin its tires in an attempt to leave the house.
Erin sat at the dining table, the candles dancing shadows on the lace tablecloth. She laid her head on the table and cried until once again she had no more tears. She went into the bathroom and washed her face. She bent over and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her nose had swollen slightly and there were a few paper cuts on her cheeks. Tim had never laid a hand on her in all the years they had been married. She was suddenly scared to ever see Tim again.
Erin went to their bed and sat on the edge for several minutes. She couldn’t decide what to do. Was this marriage worth salvaging? Could Tim ever trust her again as long as they lived? If he came home in the next two hours, did she want to see him, talk to him? After careful consideration, she knew that it was over. She had known for some time that their bond was thinning, but this last scene was the last straw. She felt she no longer respected Tim. She no longer trusted Tim. She no longer loved Tim. She decided to leave the house. She decided to leave the marriage. Maybe in time, things could be different, but she was truly afraid that Tim would return and become even more violent. She decided on a plan of separation. She would pack a few things and take off. She was not going to tell Tim where she was going because she wasn’t sure herself.
Erin grabbed a few personal clothing items and searched for a piece of luggage. She went into the office and saw Tim’s hunting backpack sitting next to the computer desk. She knew Tim kept a lot of necessities in the pack and was sure she could live for some time just on the contents. She carried the backpack out to the dining table. She would make a quick inventory before she left.
She opened the bag and began to take out handfuls of items. A large knife in a leather sheath came out first along with a thermal survival blanket. There were waterproof matches, gloves, pills to purify creek water, a first aid kit, lots of different kinds of trail mix and several pouches of freeze dried food.
She dug further down in the pack and her hand fell upon a plastic bag. Her hand was barely able to grasp enough of the bag to pull it out. It felt like a big brick or something. As she pulled it out, her eyes widened.
It looked like dollar bills—currency. But what would Tim be doing with cash? They had lost everything in the Internet fiasco. Erin could see through the plastic bag enough to recognize some very large denomination bills. She put the bag up close to her eyes to try to comprehend what she was seeing. She sat down at the table and laid it open. Her hand went into the moneybag and she pulled out a large stack of currency. She was still having trouble analyzing what her eyes were telling her. She slowly and deliberately stacked the money by denominations. There were several stacks of 100-dollar bills, 50-dollar bills, and 20-dollar bills.
Erin counted the stacks--$31,000. She was still not able to believe what she was now becoming to understand. Her husband, Tim, had $31,000 dollars stashed in his hunting backpack. There was only one place she knew where he could have gotten that much money. The memory flashbacks began: the horror of finding all their money gone on the Internet banking; the scene at the bank; coming home to find Rocky dead; the compassionate scene at the veterinarian’s office; the FBI searching their place for a deadly drug; Tim demanding that she stop researching the Masons; Rocky splayed out on her bed; the ugly scene she had just encountered.
The reflex was to cover her mouth in disbelief. The realization was coming home. Tim, her husband of 14 years, whom she thought she knew intimately, stole and hid their cash savings, and tried to make it look like she did something wrong and then, horror of horrors, he must have killed his beloved Rocky.
Erin’s hands now went to her temples and automatically started to rub them trying to fend off an impending headache. She shut her eyes and tried to absorb everything her mind was trying to tell her. Tim killed Rocky. If he killed Rocky, he could kill you. Run and don’t look back. Run.
Erin stuffed the money and all the items back into the backpack. She added a few personal things, grabbed a bottle of water and the car keys. She stopped long enough to remember it was winter in Oregon. She grabbed a waterproof jacket out of the hall closet. She hoped she had everything she needed, because she wasn’t coming back.
Night was falling quickly. Erin had to come up with a plan. Everything she was dealing with was too new to make a comprehensive plan that night. She needed some time. She was trying to think. Erin was speeding down the highway when she realized she couldn’t go anywhere she was familiar with. She needed to get out of the area. She needed to hide from Tim.
Erin couldn’t believe what she was thinking. Hide from her husband. If Tim came home that night, he would be certain to see the car gone. He probably would go to his cash stash. He would find out his backpack was gone. It wouldn’t take him long to spread the word to his police buddies and other friends in town that I was a loose cannon—on the run. Find her would be his demand.
She needed to get rid of her car, Erin thought. But she could not get out where the car could be easily found. She quickly assessed that she couldn’t drive east or south because that would be areas that Tim may return from. That left north and west. West would only take her to the Pacific Ocean, so she decided to head north—into less familiar territory.
There are large tracts of forestland in the Coast Range Mountains. One could take off on foot and disappear for months at a time. You could walk for a hundred miles through the forestland and never see another person. That is what she decided to do—at least for the night.
Erin drove for about twenty minutes when she saw an old logging road turn off the main highway. She swung her car onto the gravel road. She drove for another quarter mile and saw a large fir tree that had blown down. The branches of the fir were holding the main trunk up from the ground. She thought she could drive the car under the branches far enough to hide it from view, at least for several days. That was all she needed—a couple of days.
Erin slowly inched the sedan under some of the larger branches. She exited the car with her pack and coat. She threw the car keys on the floorboard and locked the door before she shut it. She found some branches from the fir tree that had broken off and lay loose on the forest floor. She picked several up and laid them over the trunk of the car. That should give her some lead-time. She turned and ran into the black forest.
