fake.
He’d marked off the shape of a body using tape on the floor and a toy handgun—I could tell it was plastic—lay nearby, like the perpetrator had dropped it there and ran.
Other items in the cabin were more gothic or Halloween-ish. The old mantle had large candle holders and a black raven sat on a shelf.
I crouched next to the tape lines, my vision going hazy. I could see my protagonist doing a slow sweep of the area, investigating every detail. Looking for things that might have been missed. Trying to get inside the killer’s head.
Like pieces of a puzzle, the ending to my book clicked into place. I knew what needed to happen.
I got up and whipped around, running right into Gavin. “Oops.”
He grabbed my arms to steady me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, fine.” Maybe I should have stepped back—put a little space between us—but I didn’t particularly want to. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were there.”
“Just checking to see what you think.”
“This is…” I trailed off, having a hard time finding the words. “It’s one of the most amazing things anyone has ever done for me.”
He smiled, puckering his adorable dimples. “Yeah? I’m glad you like it. Did you get any ideas?”
“Absolutely. You were right, visual inspiration really helped.”
“Awes—” Something clinked outside, like the sound of a metal can toppling over, and he broke off before finishing the word. “Did you hear that?”
“Yeah.”
We both paused, standing still in the ensuing quiet.
“Hello?” he called, his eyes darting around.
I held my breath, but nothing happened. Was this part of the setup?
“Maybe we should check outside.”
I nodded and grabbed his hand. We crept out the half-open door, and the hinges creaked. The sound made the back of my neck tingle and I scrunched my shoulders. He led me past the stabbing victim and down the porch stairs, taking slow, cautious steps.
My heart beat faster and the fun and excitement of the murder cabin started to melt into actual fear.
“You know I don’t write horror novels, right?” I whispered as we walked around the side of the building. “I don’t need jump scare inspiration.”
“I know. I didn’t put anything back here.”
That wasn’t reassuring.
There was a small clearing behind the cabin, the ground strewn with pine needles and twigs. A few pieces of graying wood suggested there had once been a stack of firewood back here, and a couple of rusty old tools peeked out from the debris littered ground.
“Are there bears out here?” I whispered.
“Yeah.”
My eyes widened. “Did you just say yes, there are bears?”
“Shh.” He put a finger to his lips and peered into the trees. “I don’t think it’s a bear.”
“Then what—”
Something crashed, I gasped, and Gavin dragged me to the ground. He threw himself on top of me, like he was shielding me from… whatever was out there.
For a second, I squeezed my eyes shut, afraid to even look. Was there a real murderer out here? Had that ax inside been left by the cabin’s terrifying occupant who was now going to chop us into bits for trespassing?
“What the fuck,” he muttered, but he sounded baffled, not afraid.
Of course, this was Gavin. Would a big hulking ax murderer be enough to scare him?
I peeked my eyes open. I was on my back with Gavin braced on top of me, and I slowly turned my head to see what he was looking at.
A rusty tin can with little gray feet scampered across the ground.
“What is that?” I asked.
“I think it’s a squirrel stuck in a can.”
I felt bad for the little guy, but I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh my god. I thought we were about to be murdered.”
He smiled. “I did too for a second there.”
“Did something actually scare you?”
“It startled me. Even I can be startled by a weird noise when I’m in a murder cabin.”
The squirrel ran around the clearing in a disoriented frenzy.
“Should we try to help it?” I asked.
Before he could answer, a man jumped out from behind a tree. I screamed, and Gavin rolled off me, getting to his feet to stand between me and whoever it was.
“Harvey,” Gavin said. “What the hell, man?”
“Wait,” Harvey said. He was dressed in a worn leather vest over a flannel shirt, faded jeans, and a pair of brown boots. He had a stick in his hand and he used it to poke at the squirrel.
“Don’t hurt it,” I said, getting up, relieved that Gavin seemed to know him.
Harvey chased the squirrel a few steps and tried to nudge