Not long after our entry, I sensed an upward grade in the road; the engine started working a bit harder, running at a higher RPM. It couldn’t seem to decide if it wanted to stay in its current gear or shift up and I played around with the gas pedal, attempting to force a decision out of the transmission.
Billy turned off on a dirt road about another three miles into the valley, which took us into deeper forested area and advanced our grade of climb a bit more. This leveled off not long after. Without warning, the trees opened up into a wide glen. Directly across from us at great distance, I could just barely make out two buildings peeking out at us from the tree line; the mountain itself appeared to jut straight up into the sky immediately behind them. The entire glen was ringed by trees; a sprawling encircled landscape that looked as though it might have been a lake once upon a time but had naturally run dry long ago. The dirt road ran us right through the center of the clearing and took us directly to the buildings.
One of these buildings turned out to be a large and rustic log home; the kind that had been built to look like an old world settler design and yet could not disguise the fact that it had taken some serious money to produce. The two-level building belied a complex floor plan, with portions of it pushing out in all directions suggesting rooms of all shapes and sizes. Shuttered windows were visible throughout the home.
The second building was situated to the rear of the home on the right and was as unlike the home as it could have been. It was large, half again as high as the house. I couldn’t see how far back it went as we drove up because it was partially buried in and obscured by the surrounding trees, but I learned later that it was three times the length of the log home. Billy called it a “Butler Building.” It was a prefabricated construction that he used as a general garage and main storage area.
We parked out in front of the house’s main entryway. The area was unpaved dirt. Exiting his truck, Billy walked to the center of the dirt patch in front of his house where he looked down at an old and untended fire pit surrounded by a rocking chair, three folding chairs, and a log. He stared at it all, hands on his hips, as though he was waiting for the scene to explain itself. He looked up at his house and then began turning his head slowly about the area, scanning the tree line.
From the passenger seat, Jake said, “Elizabeth, stay here. Lock the doors when we get out.” He lifted the Tavor out of his footwell and handed it over to me. I took it, and he lifted out his AK-47 for himself.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Nothing yet,” he said. “I want you locked up and safe in case something starts.”
We exited the Jeep (I heard the doors lock behind us immediately) and walked over to join Billy.
“I’m guessing you didn’t leave all this here the last time you were out this way,” Jake stated.
“Nope,” Billy said. “Think I’ve had some unannounced company.”
Jake sighed. “Well, get your shotgun. We’d better clear the house. Amanda, get your vest on. Keep an eye on things out here, please.”
I went to the back door of the Jeep and opened it to retrieve the vest. I pulled out the second one and threw it to Jake. “Are you sure Billy shouldn’t take this one?”
“No, I’m good,” Billy called back from the truck. “I’d rather you wear it.”
They ascended the three steps up to the front porch of the cabin, both bent over their weapons. Billy pointed over to a window to the left of the door that had been boarded up with a scrap of plywood; I assumed this was how entry had been gained. Billy tried the handle on the front door and, finding it locked, extracted a bundle of keys from his pocket, and inserted one of them into the lock. He looked up to Jake, who nodded. Billy swung open the door and pulled back to make way for Jake, who stormed into the house muzzle first. Billy went in directly behind him with his shotgun out in front.
I spent the next several minutes outside next to the Jeep straining my ears for the sound of gunfire. At one point I turned to look at Elizabeth who stared back out at me through the window with her saucer eyes. I mouthed the words “lay down” to her while motioning with my hand. She threw herself down on the back seat like she was hiding from a grenade.
My attention was pulled back by the sound of the front door opening; Jake and Billy had exited the house and were making their way over to the other building. They stopped at the front and examined both sides of the giant roll-up door that spanned the structure. Billy shrugged, and they came back to meet with me.
“We all good?” I asked as they came back.
“Someone’s been through here for sure,” said Billy. “They’re gone now, though. Can’t say how long since they were here, but that fire pit is pretty old. Maybe they were just passing through.”
“Did it look like they left anything behind?” I asked. “Any new stuff lying around in there that you didn’t recognize? Anything someone might come back for?”
“Hard to say but not that I could tell,” answered Billy. “The beds were slept in, and some of the trash cans were stacked pretty high. A lot of stuff has been moved around. Much of it looks like it had just been left in place. I suppose that could mean someone meant to come back but I just don’t know. I don’t know if I’d tidy up a place that I had just spent some time in for a few nights while passing through.”
“I sure would,” I said. “Rude assholes.”
“Well, we probably just keep our eyes open a few weeks. If anyone does come through, we’ll deal with it then,” said Jake.
“Good news is they didn’t get into the garage. That’s where the important stuff is,” Billy said, turning to look back that way. He heaved a sigh that rolled through his whole body, clearly relieved to have arrived. “I think we’re good. Why don’t you guys pull the cars around the side and I’ll give you all the tour?”
He met us out on the front porch by the door: Lizzy standing between Jake and me with our rifles slung over our shoulders. “Come on in,” he said and opened the large door wide.
The log home, which looked impressive from the outside, looked even more so from the inside. Everything about the place screamed “Mountain Man.” It was all log and beam construction with wood floors spreading out in all directions with thick, rich rugs laid out at various intervals. A staircase led upstairs immediately off the entryway. To the right of the stairs was a hallway leading past what appeared to be one or more bedrooms; to the left of the stairs was a great room appointed with dark leather seating and a large stone fireplace. Past the front room and entryway, a dining area could be seen all the way toward the rear of the house; I presumed the kitchen would be located there as well.
“There are two bedrooms upstairs, a loft, and a couple of bathrooms,” he said. “Down here are the common areas, kitchen, another couple of bedrooms with a shared bathroom, and a den at the back of that hallway.”
“Quite a few bedrooms for one, no?” asked Jake.
“Well, it was all part of the floor plan when I had the place built,” Billy said as he leaned on the staircase rail. “I wanted the extra space because I would often bring friends or family and their children up here on vacation. You’ll see—one of the downstairs rooms has a row of bunks rather than a standard bed.”
“So… den?” I asked. “Is that the library?”
“Yes, that would be the same thing, you smart aleck. Why—you want to see it?”
“Oh, I don’t know. It’s been built up so much in my mind now. I sure would hate for it to fall short,” I said while poking him in the bicep.
He curled his arm up in defense of my index finger, tucking it in tight to his side like a chicken wing. He stared at me a moment with a mock-offended expression and then began to laugh despite his best efforts to restrain himself. “You… you really are a little smartass, aren’t you?”