The Inception Trilogy by Easton Livingston (best classic novels .txt) 📗

a long gray, two-lane stretch with nothing but trees bordering it. The cottage wasn’t in sight.

“You think there’s something wrong with the navigator?” Veronica said.

“I don’t know. I see no side roads anywhere.”

A black Ford pickup truck approached in the opposite lane, slowing down until it came to a stop next to them. A chunky woman in her fifties rolled down her window in the driver’s seat. Hal hesitated rolling down his window but succumbed to his less cautious side.

“You guys lost?”

“I don’t believe we are. We have a friend who has a cottage around here. He sent us to check on it and call him when we’re done.”

It was a lie, but she was a stranger and he wasn’t taking any chances. “My GPS says we’re here but I don’t see a cottage out here.

“A cottage out here?” the woman said, trying to recall the place in her mind. “I’m not sure there’s a…”

Recognition awakened her, her eyes widening.

“Wait… there is a cottage up here. Up on Adena Point. The road ain’t on no map. Go up about a quarter of a mile and there will be a turn off to the right. Dirt road. Take that road. It'll lead you to Adena Point.”

Hal nodded.

“Thanks. Appreciate it.”

Waving out the window, he put the car in drive when the woman called out to him.

“Say… when did your friend buy that cottage?”

“I’m not sure. Not too long ago. Why do you ask?”

“Well, as far as I know, don’t nobody go up there.”

“Oh. Why is that?”

The woman stared for a moment before looking back at him.

“Because… not real sure. I just know don’t nobody go up there.”

Hal took that as a sign to end the conversation.

“Well, that’s probably the reason he bought the place. He likes his privacy. Thanks again.”

She gave a short wave as he spurred the car down the asphalt freeway.

“That was nice of her to stop and help us out like that.”

“Yes, it was.”

Hal couldn’t stop thinking of the movie The Hills Have Eyes and pressed his foot down on the pedal.

True to the woman’s word, a little more than a quarter mile was a turn off onto a gravel and dirt road if you called it that. The minivan cruised up the cramped trail pushing through overhanging branches on the narrow one-lane driveway, its treaded heels kicking up earth and pebbles. Hal put his fingers on the main control panel for the power windows to roll up as the branches raked at the car on both sides.

“Put your head and hands in the car you guys,” he said to his kids looking in the rearview mirror. Soon the windows made a lethargic ascent, the low whine of the electric window motor filling the van.

The road went on at a steady and slight incline before they could make out the cottage.

“This goes a tad beyond private,” Veronica said looking around at the forest spread out before them. “Are we going to be able to get a cell phone signal out here?”

“I think he said something about a landline in there.”

“Out here?” she said, incredulous. “I highly doubt that.”

Hal took her dubiousness into consideration. He had seen no telephone poles on the main road but he wasn't looking for them either. He'd have to check when they settled in.

Reaching their destination, they stopped in the open area in front of the cottage.

The cottage was a log cabin, equipped with a handicap ramp and addition. A stone chimney inlaid with granite protruded from the top, its light color standing out against the dark wood stain of the cottage walls. The front door was a solid black except for the top which is where a small window was inset.

Hal put the van in park and shut the engine off.

“O.K. This is much nicer than what I thought it would be.”

“Says Mr. Pessimism.”

Veronica turned and smiled at him as everyone got out of the van. Hal scrutinized the cottage, taking in every detail. He walked in front of the van, eyes fixed. Veronica was right. He was pessimistic to an extent. That was only because he was a perfectionist. It was his personality. Everything had to be right and up to Hal standard. It wasn’t for him as much as it was for his family and friends. It was the reason he insisted on packing. He wanted to make sure they were prepared and had everything they needed. As much as he trusted his wife, he knew she wouldn’t have packed half of the things he did. Two extra cans of gasoline, a machete his grandfather had given him (and Veronica hated), compass, binoculars, shovel, and other paraphernalia. None of that wouldn’t have even been a part of Veronica’s list.

“Mom. Do I have to sleep with Donna? I wanted my own room.”

“I don’t know honey. We’ll see.”

Hal stood in front of everyone facing the cottage for silent moments, taking it all in. Gary had got him good. This was way more than he expected.

That’s when he noticed it.

“You hear that?”

“Hear what daddy?” said Donna.

“The birds. I don’t hear any birds.”

Everyone turned or craned their heads to hear a warble, a tweet, a whistle from high atop in the trees. None came.

“Maybe they’re taking a nap?”

“All of them? I mean, I hear nothing.”

“Hal. Really?” Veronica said, a hint of exasperation entering her tone. “Are we going to stand here and discuss the lack of bird-chirping on our vacation? They could just not like we’re here and took off.”

He turned around to face them and stopped. This was his family. A six-year-old princess that was the apple of his eye, her sandy blonde bangs falling into her eyes as she held her teddy lion. An eleven-year-old son who was getting at that age where parents were definitely uncool. A beautiful wife of twelve years and companion for fourteen. He didn’t understand how she put up with him or why. Unlike many marriages, one thing they meant at the altar was until death do us part.