A husband abandoned his disabled wife in a forest, unaware that a shadowy figure observed every moment…
Ava Thompson despised extended road trips. She always had. The infinite stretch of asphalt snaking through Oregon’s dense fir-filled backcountry twisted her insides worse than the bends themselves.
Yet, she remained silent. She had barely spoken since dawn. Nathan, her spouse of seven years, navigated with intense concentration.
His one hand gripped the wheel loosely. The other drummed against his leg in subtle strain. Soft orchestral tunes emanated from the radio, an unfamiliar channel without words or interruptions.
They journeyed to a lodge beside Silver Lake, a spot untouched by them for ages. During their previous visit as fresh newlyweds, they had been giddy from inexpensive red and bursts of mutual joy. Ava recalled plunging into the icy depths to demonstrate her resilience over his.
He had hauled her from the chill, trembling, and embraced her as if she radiated warmth. Nowadays, the atmosphere within the vehicle seemed frostier than that lake ever was. «Snow is forecast for this evening,» Nathan remarked, shattering the quiet at last.
Ava gazed through the glass. Overcast skies loomed close, pulled taut like faded marks on pale skin. «Did you bring the extra covers?» she inquired.
He affirmed with a nod. «They’re stowed in the trunk. The lodge includes heating.»
A brief lull followed, then, as if secondary, he added, «This escape will benefit us.» Us. Once, that term evoked comfort like a familiar dwelling.
Currently, it rang false, repeated from routine. Ava adjusted her position marginally, realigning her numb limbs. Not felt since the crash.
A mechanical hoist and customized seat enabled her journeys. However, each jolt underscored her altered mobility, when movement occurred. «I’m pleased you suggested this trip,» she murmured, wishing it didn’t echo as an inquiry.
He offered no reply. Merely veered abruptly onto a pebbled lane indicated by a warped timber marker: Silver Lake path, entry limited. Ava furrowed her brow.
This isn’t the standard route to the water. «There’s an alternate way,» Nathan explained. «Fewer vehicles, better views.»
The wheels crunched across stones and fallen needles. Woods grew denser around them, limbs scraping the car resembling skeletal digits. The navigation screen blanked out.
No connection. Ava’s discomfort intensified, stirring restlessly within. «Nate,» she uttered gradually.
Why does this seem off? He avoided her glance. «You’re constantly tense these days.»
Her teeth clenched. These days, as though her worry was a sudden whim, not born from being trapped in an overturned car eighteen months prior, witnessing her profession, physique, and autonomy disintegrate simultaneously. «Do you still care for me?» she whispered faintly.
He chuckled abruptly, dull, forced from deep within. «Why else would I transport you here?» The path shrank to scarcely a track.
Mossy boulders protruded from the soil like fangs. Nathan halted the vehicle suddenly amid a glade encircled by lofty evergreens. Ava surveyed the area.
No structure, no pier, merely foliage and a hush so profound it pulsed with existence. «This isn’t the lake,» she stated. «I’m aware,» Nathan responded, exiting the automobile.
He circled to her door, swung it wide, and released the straps holding her secure. His movements were precise. Not affectionate, not gentle, simply swift.
Ava’s pulse raced. «What is our purpose here?» «I require a moment to reveal something,» he declared.
«Remain seated.» Yet she refused to comply. An instinctive alarm blared internally.
«Nate, halt.» She grasped his sleeve while he assembled her mobility chair and secured its frame. He evaded her gaze.
He hoisted her as he had countless occasions, beneath knees and spine, but devoid of gentleness now. Solely utility, solely pressure. Seated in the device, he propelled it ahead at a pace that alarmed her.
«Cease,» she pleaded, terror mounting. «Nathan, cease.» The apparatus lurched upon reaching a minor cliff, a decline toward Silver Lake’s boundary, now apparent amid sparse branches.
Waters somber and vast, reflecting turbulent heavens. Breezes bore scents of precipitation and resin, plus another, crude and iron-like. He oriented the chair downhill.
Ava stiffened. Nathan’s tone was subdued. «I regret this, Ava. Truly. But I cannot continue.»
«What? What do you mean?» «You were once exceptional,» he uttered without fear. «The lady I wed could surpass all in speed.».
«And presently,» he waved indistinctly at her lower body. «You exist as if deceased, and I’m trapped, interred alongside.» Her lips parted, soundless.
«I attempted,» he continued, retreating. «But this existence is unwanted now.» He pivoted and approached the car.
Ava yelled. «Nathan.» He proceeded undeterred.
Unmoved. The door banged shut. Motor ignited.
Pebbles scattered as he backed up, then accelerated along the lane and vanished. Abruptly, solitude enveloped her. Ava remained immobile amid the ensuing quietude.
A quietude laden with incredulity. Branches oscillated. The lake murmured.
Her pulse alone resounded authentically. She fluttered her eyelids. Her palms quivered.
She retrieved her device from her jacket and examined it. No reception, naturally. She eyed the incline.
Unstable soil, tendrils, and stones. Excessively sharp for descent. Too irregular for her rollers.
The firmament fractured, hurling initial flakes of sleet. Ava Thompson, formerly lead specialist on a fifty-million-dollar renewable energy initiative, lingered isolated in a damaged form, forsaken by the individual who pledged fidelity in illness and wellness. She clamped her jaw.
Then, from the forest’s depths rearward, it reached her. Strides, human not beastly, nearing. The paces were measured, intentional, footwear compressing foliage, unlike casual shoes or lightweight trekkers.
Ava’s respiration halted. She seized her chair’s edges and attempted rotation. The port wheel snagged on a root, halting abruptly.
She was immobilized. «Greetings,» she shouted, tone quavering. The call dissipated into the timber.
Another advance, nearer. Subsequently, a silhouette materialized amid the trunks. Tall, wide-framed, clad in a worn military olive coat, cowl partially raised, firearm draped over shoulder.
Ava’s dread surged. «I’m not intruding,» she hastened, steadying her speech. «My spouse, he departed. I unintended presence.»
The figure halted. He lowered the covering gradually. Her insides sank.
She recognized those features. Slightly aged, more creased near the orbits, chin dusted with growth, but distinct. «Dylan,» she breathed.
He squinted, similarly astonished. «Ava.» A moment of astonished hush ensued.
Gusts stirred the boughs above. «What on earth are you doing in this spot?» he queried, advancing, voice firm yet compassionate, concerned.
She endeavored to respond, but a blockage in her airway persisted. Moisture pricked her vision, not terror, but utter astonishment. He knelt by her apparatus….
