Cabin

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A slight breeze blew through the trees. It was early. The sun had just risen over the mountain tops, so the temperature was still very comfortable. Bear, me, and my brother were on our way back to the cabin. We'd taken our time and ran the long route, both to burn off some nervous energy, but also to check out our surroundings to make sure everything was the way it was supposed to be. To make sure we were safe.

It was quiet, but we were all on full alert and every little sound made us jump, Bear included. He sensed the tension in our bodies, even though both me and my brother did our best to remain calm for him and each other.

Everything appeared to be normal, but we knew from experience that it could change in an instant.

Once we got back to the cabin, we spent some time practicing our martial arts while Bear laid by his water bowl and kept watch. His ears twitched occasionally and he let out a quick bark a couple of times, but he remained in place, which meant we were safe. For now.

For how long we would be safe was a different question altogether. I kept wondering how long it would take for whoever it was that was searching for us to find our hiding spot? And whether we were truly safer here than in Boston?

"Alright, that's it for today," my brother said and wiped the sweat off his face. "I'll go shower while you feed Bear."

"Okay," I chuckled, finding it funny that he left the work to me, but then Bear was my dog.

Bear had heard his name, and he was already on his feet, eager to get inside. "Ready to eat, bud?" I asked.

It seemed like he smiled as looked back at me with his big brown eyes and the tongue hanging halfway out his mouth. He was so damn cute, and such a loyal and smart dog. Getting him was the best thing I ever did.

Bear followed me through the cramped cabin. It wasn't very big to begin with, but since we filled it with our moving boxes and most of my brother's computer equipment, it was even tighter than normal. Bear was on my heels as I navigated through the mess into the galley-style kitchen.

He waited somewhat patiently while I got his food ready, and while he ate, I opened a fresh bag of coffee and started the coffeepot. It was going to be a long weekend trying to get things sorted out. That bag of coffee would be essential.

"Smells good," my brother said as he stepped into the kitchen while rubbing a towel over his wet hair.

"Yeah, it'll be done in a minute," I responded and gestured towards the coffee pot. "I'm showering."

After breakfast and another walk, Bear fell asleep on his bed in front of the fireplace. My brother sat down at the dining table, which he used as his temporary office set up. It didn't take long before his fingers flew over the keyboard.

"Have you gotten any closer to figuring out who the guy is that's been watching the office?" I asked from my spot on the couch.

"No, but at this point, I'm pretty sure we're not the only ones looking for him."

I nodded because if it was true, what we expected, that the same person stalking me was the one that shot Dana, then the police would be looking for him too.

"Let's hope the cops have better luck than we do."

He chuckled. "Unfortunately, they don't have the surveillance from the last few weeks like we do, and it's not like we can share it with them."

"True." Because we couldn't exactly explain how and why we were in possession of such surveillance, or how we had access to the cameras to begin with. I wouldn't be able to explain anything about it, anyway. I had no idea how my brother knew everything he did, or how he had access to things normal people didn't or shouldn't have.

"Do you think that whatever this guy wants is related to dad?" I asked.

"I think we have to presume it is."

I nodded. It made the most sense. We'd been on the run because of his choices since I was fifteen and my brother was fourteen. It wasn't like me or my brother had any enemies. At least not the kind that would shoot an innocent woman just because they thought she was associated with me.

Our dad's former business associates, however, would shoot first and then ask questions. Which also meant that they would use whatever trick they could to get what they wanted. And if they wanted to get to our dad, they wouldn't refrain from trying to use us.

We hadn't seen our dad in years, and didn't even know where he lived, but whoever was following us didn't seem to care. If they thought for a second that we had any kind of information on his whereabouts, they would try to get it. And if they assumed Dana was my girlfriend, they would put pressure on her.

I rubbed my hands across my face and sighed. This whole situation was beyond fucked up, and Dana was completely innocent. She had absolutely no information about me or my family. She didn't even know my real name. I hoped that would help, and that they would leave her alone. But dad's former associates were as ruthless as the Mafia movies on TV.

"You don't know that they shot her because of you," my brother said like he read my mind.

"No? You think she just happened to get shot? Like all of this is some big fucking coincidence?" I snapped.

He stopped typing and turned to face me. "Bro..."

I got to my feet and began to pace the floor, which startled Bear, but when he saw it was just me, he laid back down and went back to sleep.

My body was full of tension. There was no fuckin way I could sit down and do nothing.

"Let's be real," I said. "We have to assume that Dana getting shot is related to us, or at least to me, right?" I asked.

He nodded slowly. "Yeah. It seems like it's too much of a coincidence for it not to be. We know for sure that he saw you two together on more than one occasion."

I felt guilty about that, even though the shooting wasn't my fault. But Dana was an innocent bystander, even more so than I was.

"It was probably a warning," I said as I thought out loud. "If it's the guy that's been following me that shot her, and his business is related to anything involving dad, then Dana should've been dead."

My brother nodded, knowing these people didn't leave witnesses if it wasn't intentional.

"It's not your fault."

I hoped that was true because I'd tried so hard not to get close to anyone for that exact reason. It had been so difficult to leave Ellie that I never wanted to have to go through that all over again. Trying to get through it once was more than enough. I couldn't deal with another heartbreak. Not that anyone else had ever made me feel anywhere near what I felt for her.

And then my breath caught, and my chest tightened like it was being squeezed together from all sides.

Oh, my god. Ellie. What if they the guy, whoever he was, had seen Ellie when she was in my office? What if she was next?

I sucked at the air, trying to fill my lungs with oxygen, but it felt like my lungs couldn't expand enough to access it.

That was my absolute biggest fear. That Ellie would get hurt because of me.

"Bro?"

My brother pushed back on the chair, and then he was in front of me with concern written all over his face

I had come to a stop near the wall with my hands tightly clenched at my side.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

I couldn't answer him. It felt like I was having a panic attack. My chest tightened and there was no air, just pressure and pain.

"Bro," he urged, and tugged on my arm.

After a couple of minutes, I was finally able to breathe in a shallow breath, but it was enough. I bent over at the waist and groaned. "Fuck."

"What? What's going on?" he asked frantically.

I shook my head to clear it and took another raspy breath before I could stand up at my full height.

"We need to reach out to dad again," I croaked.

My brother looked somewhat relieved that I was breathing again, but the worry wrinkle between his eyebrows deepened as he said. "I've tried, bro. So Many times. He just doesn't respond."

That didn't make any sense. He always responded, one way or another. It might take him a few days, but there was always something.

"When was the last time you heard from him?"

"Last week."

"How many times have you tried since?"

"Once a day."

"So you think that whoever these people are might know our phone numbers?" I guessed. "That's why he's not saying anything?"

My brother sat back down in the dining chair and nodded. "At least mine."

"Fuck."

That wasn't good, but it could explain how they'd been able to get so close to us.

"I don't think they have our exact location because none of that is activated on any of our electronics, but it's probably just a matter of time."

A matter of time...

"How many messages have you gotten so far? In total?" I asked my brother, referring to the ones from our father.

"Five."

"Are they all just numbers?"

"Yes, except for the first one that said 'ten years.'"

I nodded. We'd searched the entire cabin as soon as we arrived the night before and found the notebook my dad had given me fifteen years earlier. It was hidden in one of our secret spots, underneath one of the floorboards in front of the fireplace in the cabin. We had a throw rug over it, but even without that, it was difficult to tell that there was something up with one of the boards.

The notebook was worn and the ink our dad had used to make his notes had smeared in a few places. Some kind of rodent, most likely a mouse, had chewed on one of the corners, but we were able to locate a section that referred to numbers. He had invented some kind of code system where numbers referred to locations. But not to a specific location, like a city or a street. The numbers coordinated to generic location like woods, garden, beach or off-road. There were others, but most of them were completely illegible.

What we hadn't yet been able to figure out was what the importance was with those locations. Whether they hinted to where he planned to live? Or to something else?

"Do you think these numbers have anything to do with the treasure he always talked about?" I asked, remembering all dad's conversations about the money he was to get one day.

My brother snorted, but his amused expression changed as he thought about it. "That might actually make sense."

"If there actually is one..."

"Yeah, that," he agreed. He got quiet for a while as he rubbed his chin. "But why would he give us that?"

That was a good question. It had always been his dream to get that money, the treasure, so he could get away and start over somewhere else. And it had only intensified after mom passed away.

"What if something is wrong? What if he's sick or something?" I suggested.

"You think that he's so sick he can't get the money?"

"Maybe. Or maybe they are onto him, so he wants us to get it before they do."

He nodded slowly as he thought that through.

"I'll send him another text. A cryptic one, because I think it's time we set up our new phones."

I nodded. It was time. Time to start over. All over again.


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