Chapter 20 | AN OXYMORON AND A DEATH SPOT

The loud sound of Moose barking at the vicious feline gets louder.

One word is instantly put into my mind: cougar.

Holy crap.

I don't know what I'm doing, but I throw on my coat and quickly put on my boots, about to open the door a slight bit to look outside when I hear the gunshot.

I jump, cringing at the amplitude.

It's loud, silencing any noise from the wild animal.

An oxymoron: deafening silence.

I've never heard a gun go off that close to me before, and it's something I am not fond of at all.

I open the door and peek outside, barely seeing the outline of Moose standing in front of a dead lynx in the moonlight.

Oh. So it wasn't a cougar.

However, I see no sign of Vaughn.

Making sure to grab my hatchet, I step out and close the door behind me, walking down the front steps with the flashlight lighting up my way.

I slowly and carefully make my way over to the puma, glancing around me to try to find the creature's killer.

"I can't believe you killed it," I say, trying to find out where he is.

"And if I hadn't killed it?" A voice comes out of nowhere. "Moose was going to use his invincible fur to save himself? The deer was going to come back to life and run away so as not to be eaten by it? I would have been safe and sound here?"

Eyebrows furrowing, I glance up, scoffing when I see where Vaughn is. I accidentally blind him with my phone's flashlight for a split second, too. Oops.

Oh well.

"Wow," I say.

"And, you. If you came out and I hadn't killed it, you were going to defend yourself with that small hatchet? Or were you just planning on blinding it?"

I ignore that pointed, valid statement in order to focus solely on his location.

"I cannot believe you."

"What?"

I shake my head. "No words."

I can't see his face, but I can barely make out his outline in the moonlight from down here.

He's about 25 feet up in the tree hammock, the one that he originally wanted me to sleep in above the wolves.

Vaughn would rather sleep in a tree hammock with the wild dangers rather than sleep near me in a cabin? Ridiculous.

"I don't see the problem here," he says.

Shaking my head again, I try not to focus on him in this situation. I focus on the beloved dog.

"Do you always just decide to leave poor Moose open to attacks like that?"

"What? No. He usually sleeps on the porch."

"You mean you don't let him sleep inside?" I gasp.

"For the colder days, I do."

"This is one of the colder days."

"It's barely below freezing."

"It's still one of the colder days, though."

"Is there something you need?" He asks.

"No, why would you think that?"

"Then why are you out here?"

Is he being serious right now? "Oh, I don't know, maybe because I heard a gun go off?"

"You could have just looked out the window."

I try to stop a little smile from spreading, but I fail, snickering quietly to myself. Man, Vaughn really wants me far, far away from him.

I just nod, backing away. "Noted. Night, Vaughn."

I'm answered with silence as I walk towards the outhouse.

Might as well, since I'm already out here.

After, I'm going back to the cabin, up its steps and through the front door.

Looking to my left, I see some wood chunks sitting by the woodstove, so I open it up and put a couple in to keep the fire going.

After taking off my jacket and boots and setting my hatchet by the remaining wood, I then look around for a cot or something.

I know Vaughn's planning on staying out there, but I still don't really feel okay with sleeping on his futon.

I kneel on the ground, shining the flashlight under the futon. "Yes!"

There lies a cot, so I reach for it and pull, dragging it out.

Next, I set it up in the corner, looking around for blankets.

I'm guessing Vaughn will need all the blankets he can get up there, so the ones I used last night are out of the question.

There's quite a lot of blankets on the futon, but for some reason, I just really don't want to use those. But, I don't want to go through his cedar chest, either, as that would be a total violation of privacy. So, I take about 6 blankets and lay one down on top of the cot. Then, I keep one folded to use as a pillow. The rest will serve as regular on-top blankets.

Afterward, I decide that I want some more beans. So, I take a can out and search through the cupboards until I find a pan. Then, I start heating them up on top of the woodstove.

When I'm done, I brush my teeth and quickly rinse my face using the cold water that comes out of the kitchen faucet. I hear the water go directly into something nearby, and when I look under the sink, I see a five-gallon bucket.

When I'm all done with that, I drink half a water bottle from my bag and climb into my cot, coming to a vivid realization. I realize how much comfier and cozier it is in here when compared to last night's sleeping conditions.

So, I snuggle into the wool bedding, enjoying the warmth of the cabin.

Then, I'm falling fast asleep.

When I awake, I'm shocked to see it's bright out.

How much did I sleep?

And, I'm thrilled to realize how soundly I slept. Didn't wake up once! Wonderful!

However, the joy of that comes crashing down when I realize that I have to interact with Vaughn again.

I have no idea what to do here, honestly. I don't really know where to start on finding out what happened to John.

Since Vaughn clearly doesn't want me here, I don't know why he just doesn't volunteer information that could be useful. That way, I might be less annoying.

Maybe he doesn't actually know if any information he has will be useful?

Who knows.

I groan, climbing out of my little cot-bed and standing up, I stretch.

I frown, looking at the woodstove.

It's still going.

It shouldn't be, as I don't think the two logs I had in there would last through the night.

Meaning...No.

He wouldn't come in and keep the fire going, would he? I doubt it wholeheartedly.

After I take my time brushing my hair and eating my second to the last can of beans, I throw on all of my winter clothes minus the hat, grab the hatchet, and head out to the outhouse.

Then, I wander around, looking for Vaughn.

His hammock-tree thing is gone, but the red place where the cougar was killed stays.

When I near the cave, Moose comes running up, tail wagging happily. He's got his usual joyful canine smile; however, some icy snowballs are sticking to his feet and legs.

As I pat his head, I decide that I'll work on picking some of those off later.

Suddenly, there's a tap on my left shoulder, and I whirl around, maybe emitting a startled sound, only to see Vaughn raise an eyebrow at me.

"Did you not hear me?"

I look at him like he's slightly insane, "No, I didn't hear you. You're like...you're like a silent ninja or something. My gosh, make a little noise once and a while, yeah?"

"Once in a while, not once and a while."

I blink at him. "Do I care?"

He ignores me. "Are you ready?"

My eyebrows furrow, "For what?"

Oh, no, is he planning on hunting right now? Is he serious? He just killed a deer! Hunting would be stupid considering there's enough meat at the moment, and I-

"To make the rounds."

My inner monologue stops. "What?"

"I continuously keep track of the area to know if certain animals will be coming through or not."

"And it clearly seems to be paying off," I look at the lynx's death spot.

He ignores me, walking away, so I quickly jog to follow. "Mkay, where to start?"

He points in the direction behind the cave, deeper into the woods.

He starts ahead, with an ax in hand and rifle strap around his shoulder.

I wave goodbye to Moose, following after his owner.

"So, you just walk around all day?"

He doesn't say anything.

So, we trudge along in silence through the snow.

That is until I get tired of the silence and destroy it with my annoying voice once again. "Why was my uncle the exception?"

It's a good question, and it relates to John, so he has to open up and talk. A win-win!

"What?"

"I'm assuming you stay away from everyone, yet my uncle was the exception?"

Silence.

"Why?"

"Because he seemed trustworthy. And, he helped me build the cabin."

"No way, uncle John couldn't build anything to save his life. I remember one time he tried to help me with lincoln logs but all he ended up doing was accidentally destroying everything I'd built."

I think I hear a faint noise escape the man in front of me, but I just label it off as him breathing oddly. After all, there's no way this man knows how to do anything related to the concept of laughing.

"So?" I prod.

He sighs softly, "He gave me Moose."

"He gifted you a puppy? Seriously? Why? Like, for what?"

"To be nice."

My mind flashes back to the few times he used to visit, every holiday, every birthday. "Wow."

"What?"

"Nothing, I just...I mean, he usually just gave me a snowglobe for like every single special occasion."

"He sounds like he was a terrible uncle."

I frown, looking at the back of Vaughn's head. John was his friend, yet he says things like that? That's good, in my opinion, actually. That means he's not easily blinded by other people's actions simply because of who they are to him.

"Well, he was a good uncle when it truly mattered."

"Like when you became a fugitive and needed somewhere to stay, so he signed me up for the job," he says dryly.

"Yeah, exactly!"

Silence.

And then: "What do you plan to do?"

What do I plan to do? "Huh?"

"If you find out what happened to John, what do you plan to do after?"

What he means is, 'You can't stay here forever, you know.'

"I...clearly cannot run or hide forever, so I'll probably go and turn myself in or something."

Roan could be a good option, I guess.

My answer surprises us both. I mean, I didn't even know what I was saying as soon as I opened my mouth.

"Even if it means going to jail for something you didn't do?"

Actually, it would be a prison, most likely.

The thought of living confined in prison, maybe even for life, enters my mind. Orange jumpsuits, prison bars, correctional officers.

I hate that thought. In fact, I'm terrified of it. I really, really, do not want to go to prison. Especially for a murder that I didn't even directly commit!

My silence is enough to answer his question.

After a while, I sigh and stop walking. "This is pointless, isn't it?"

I know I shouldn't just give up so quickly, but my legs are getting tired, my head hurts, and remembering how vast the forest is out here really wears me down.

Vaughn stops walking ahead of me and turns around, so I look up at the giant and meet his green eyes instantly.

"Why do you say that?"

I throw up my arms, gesturing to the land around us. "All of this walking, and for what, exactly?"

He's silent, so I keep going.

"What even are you trying to check, anyway?"

"The wildlife. Wolves, bears."

"Then you're going the wrong way, you got one back at your cabin," I say, referring to his dog who slightly resembles one. He is a giant, after all.

He ignores me, so I ask: "Who named him, anyway?"

He shifts slightly, "I did."

I nod, deciding not to say anything about that. Instead, I keep walking. "Okay, so, where are we going?"

"There's a cave somewhere across a river up ahead. That's as far as we'll walk."

"A...cave...somewhere...across a river...?"

"Yes."

"Wow, that's so specific. We'll find those animals in no time at all."

He shakes his head, turning around and continuing to walk forward.

I follow him without another word. "So, you know where the cave is, then."

"No."

"What? You're telling me you've been living out here for the past 8 years, yet you've always stayed within a small radius of the cabin?"

"Yes."

"Don't you get bored?"

"No."

"Wow. Even I'd get bored."

Silence.

And then it hits me. "...You were joking."

"Yes."

We keep walking until I begin to hear the sound of rushing water. Then, I start to get impatient with how slow Vaughn is walking.

"The river!" I say happily. Vaughn glances to the side, giving me a look as if to say, 'I know what it is.'

I smile, ignoring his negative attitude.

Not that I wasn't being totally cynical earlier...but that's beside the point.

When the cold-looking water finally comes into view, I see that's a pretty good-sized river. It looks like it goes on forever, winding through the forest. It's a few yards wide, too. The seemingly dark blue water gushes ahead hurriedly, crashing against a few jagged rocks sticking up into the air.

It looks like an absolutely cruel river.

"Okay, so how do we cross without dying?" I ask, looking at Vaughn.

Apparently, he ignores the latter part of my question, because he simply nods his head upwards. And, upon following his gaze, I see extensive, strong-looking branches stretching across the river from both sides.

Oh, no.