Heart racing, she rested her head on the steering wheel for a moment then searched the forest for the animal. A dark shape crouched in the shadows. Its eyes glowed a strange yellowish-red. Knowing better, but curiosity getting the better of her, she rolled the window down and stuck her head out to get a clearer view. The creature moved toward her, making a clicking noise with each step. A breeze rustled the snow-covered trees. Expecting the scent of clean mountain air she shuddered with primal fear when the stench of rotting fruit reached her.
Keeping her eyes on the thing in the shadows, she reversed onto the road then shoved the car into drive and stomped the gas pedal to the floor. The tires spun on the slick surface as the clicking sound drew nearer. Cursing, she made herself let up on the accelerator. The tires gained traction, and the car moved forward as she steered with one hand while searching for the button to raise the window with the other.
The creature slammed into the back of her car, sending it sliding across the snow. She gripped the steering wheel and regained control of the car. She kept her eyes on the road, ahead and behind her, while her heart pounded with fear.
She’d seen deer, rabbits and raccoons on this road. She’d even seen a bear once, but the thing that had looked at her from the woods was something unknown. Scared, yet feeling a little silly, she told herself she was imagining things. It must have been a mountain lion, the clicking sound made by twigs it broke beneath its paws as it moved toward her. The explanation satisfied her until she remembered the smell of rotten fruit. Logic and experience insisted it had been something else. Something she’d never encountered before.
Ahead of her the lights on the gate pillars came into view and she breathed a sigh of relief. Stopping, she kept her eyes on the area around her and honked her horn. The blaring sound in the silence of the snow-blanketed campus sent a rush of fear through her. She checked the area behind and around her. The instincts she’d inherited from her Marine father urged her to be quiet. To be still. To hide.
The door of the gatekeeper’s cottage finally opened. Rogers stepped out with a flashlight in his hand. He pointed the strong beam directly at her, blinding her before she could shield her eyes.
She rolled her window down and yelled, “Get that light out of my eyes.”
He lowered the beam to the ground and hurried to the gate, unlocked it and pulled it open. As she drew even with him he signaled her to stop.
She rolled her window up leaving only a two-inch gap. “Yes?”
He leaned down and spoke, his breath reeking of cigarettes, cheap whiskey and garlic. “There are two trucks waiting for you behind the cafeteria.”
“Mr. Edgars called me. He said to ask you to help me unload them. It will only take a couple hours.”
He scratched his belly through the dirty t-shirt he wore. “Naw, Hilda and I are watching the news. There’s some crazy shit going on in Chicago. People taking attacking each other. Lots of blood and gore.”
He looked back at his cottage and Grace saw the disheveled figure of Hilda Baker standing in the light of the open doorway waiting for him. Rogers spat on the ground and a string of saliva dangled from his bottom lip as he backed away. “I’ll leave the gate unlocked. You and the drivers go ahead and leave when you’re finished. I’ll lock it later when I walk Hilda back to the dorm.”
She watched him hurry back to his cottage and knew neither one of them would be sober enough to go anywhere in a couple hours. Disgusted with their behavior, and the Edgars’ refusal to provide housing for the faculty, she studied the campus. Only a few lights lit up the green, and the only building with light in its windows was the year-round cadets’ dorm. She’d bet next month’s pay that Mr. Edgar had moved all the cadets into that building to save money.
Swearing to find another job soon, she drove to the Main Dorm. Leaving her car running while she grabbed a flashlight, she walked to the back of the car. She played the light over the hatch. It was caved in and the window was cracked. Blood covered them and ran down to the snow. Reaching, out she started to touch it then pulled her hand back. The animal was probably infected with rabies. She studied it again then hurried into the building and up the stairs.
It took several tries to open the heavy front door. Once inside she followed the hall to the lounge area where most of the cadets were gathered. They looked up when she entered and she sent them a smile and a little wave. A few returned her greeting but most looked away, ignoring her.
Sticking her hands in her pockets she rocked back and forth on her boots. “I’m sorry to disturb you but I have a problem I hope a few of you can help me solve,” Grace said. “Mr. Edgar has had the food for next semester delivered but my kitchen staff is long gone. Could a few of you help me, please?”
Luke Matthews, a senior, stood up. “I will.”
“Thanks, Luke.” Grace smiled. She could always depend on Luke. She called him and his two best friends, Mark Kelton and Neal White, the three musketeers. All three of them were over six feet tall and strongly built. Luke had dark blue eyes and hair so light blond hair it was hard to see as it was cut in a high, tight military style. His face held the maturity of a man years older than his age of eighteen. He was a born leader and she knew most of the female cadets lamented his serous focus on his studies.
Grace turned, already focused on Mark Kelton when he stood up.
“I’ll come along and move cases for you, Ms. Walker,” Mark said, the words spoken smoothly in a Texas accent. His dark brown, almost sable hair and bronze complexion and high cheek bones revealed his Native American ancestry.
“How about you, Neal? Want to come along and help?”
Neal stepped around her. “I’m going to manage to sneak up on you one of these days.”
“And, we’ll all hear hell freezing over the day that happens,” she said and looked up into his light brown eyes. He was several inches over six feet with black hair, cut in the same fashion as Luke’s high and tight recon style of the Marines.
“I’ll come and help move cases. I need the exercise.” Neal lifted his arms showing off his ‘guns.’
Laughing, she wished she had a dollar for every time she’d seen one of the cadets do that. “You guys are life savers. Anyone else?” She scanned the room for more volunteers, then decided to sweeten the deal. “I’m offering hot apple cobbler and ice cream as a reward for your help.” None of the other cadets took the bait. “Okay, well, if you change your minds you can always join us. This is going to take several hours.” She glanced at the three young men. “I’ll give you a ride across campus.”
Luke walked toward her with Neal and Mark behind him. “Thanks, just give us a minute to grab our coats.”
“I’ll wait in the front hall.” Grace walked back to the front doors alone. The hallway was cold and dimly lit, making her wonder what the rooms were like this time of the year. She’d barely reached the front entrance when her three helpers joined her. Luke reached over her shoulder and forced one of the double doors open.
“These things stick in the winter.” He held it open until they’d passed through it then leaned his weight on it, making sure it latched.
They tracked toward her car, the sound of snow scrunching beneath their feet. “Don’t touch the back of the car. Something ran in front of me on the road. When I stopped it hid in the trees, then charged into the back of my car when I drove away.”
“Must have been a moose,” Neal said, opening the back door on the driver’s side and getting in.
Grace settled in the driver’s seat. “Sorry, about the stuff on the floor,” she told Luke. “My purse slid off the seat when I slammed on the brakes. Just put your feet wherever you can.”