SHORT STORIES VOL 1 INCLUDING: ROMANCE, COMEDY, DRAMA, SCI-FI, HORROR & MORE

Chapter 8:Do Not Enter

Kyle and Wyatt had decided to escape the hustle of school and the city and take a short weekend trip to the mountains. During this trip, they planned to arrive on Friday evening and camp overnight. After that, they had expected to hike all day Saturday, camp overnight again, and hike back out, leaving on Sunday afternoon.

It was already dark when they arrived at the trail on Friday, so the pair decided to sleep in their car for the night. The sky was clear, and even though it was unseasonably warm that night, they did not want to try to set up the tent in the dark.

They had been anxious to get started on Saturday morning under a brilliant blue sky. Kyle and Wyatt had been hiking for several hours when they found themselves caught in a sudden downpour. They had turned around, and as they pushed to make it out of the forest, the storm turned from a cold rain to a whipping snow.

“Dude,” Kyle said as they took shelter among a grove of cedar trees. “I thought you checked the weather before we left?”

“I did!” Wyatt replied, almost yelling to be heard above the wind. “I even checked one more time before we lost cell signal. It said it was going to be sunny and warm all weekend. If I knew this was going to happen, I would not be out here.”

“We need to find a place to set up the tent or something,” Kyle told him. “We will never make it back to the car before dark, and we need some kind of shelter.”

Wyatt took off his backpack and began searching for something. He pulled out his cell phone and started holding it above his head. He lowered it, wiped the snow off the screen, and sighed.

“No signal, so I have no idea how big this storm is or how long it will last,” Wyatt said with frustration.

“Did you really think you would get a signal out here?” Kyle asked. “Put your phone away, and let’s go. We need to find a place to shelter. This storm seems like it is getting worse.”

Wyatt quickly stashed his phone away in his pack before putting it back on. He hefted it onto his back and shifted it into place. He looked at Kyle and let out a sigh.

“Yeah, I know exactly how you feel. Just remember this was your idea,” Kyle told him with a smirk.

Wyatt glared at him and replied, “I know, I know. Let’s keep going. I think we passed a rock bluff that made a sort of a U-shape. That should give us a good place to put a tent and block some of the wind.”

“I hope you’re right. I don’t like the idea of frostbite or freezing to death,” Kyle answered as they began walking again.

Kyle and Wyatt began to make their way back to where Wyatt remembered the rock formation being. Wyatt led the way confidently for some distance before his pace slowed.

“Why are you slowing down?” Kyle asked as he adjusted his stocking cap.

“Um…,” Wyatt said, stopping to look around.

“Did you get us lost in a blizzard?” Kyle yelled.

“No! This is the same trail we came in on. I'm sure of it. Maybe I couldn’t see the rocks from this angle, or because of the snow. I know we should have found them by now,” Wyatt answered, confused.

Kyle shook his head and asked, “So now what? Do we set up the tent out in the open, or do we try to make it to the car?”

“We won’t make it to the car before dark, and the temperature is dropping even more. I say we keep going a little further. Maybe we just haven't gotten there yet. If we don't find it soon, we’ll set up the tent among some cedars and try to block the wind as much as we can for the night.”

Kyle let out an exasperated sigh as he looked at his friend. He was certain Wyatt had not checked the weather before they had left, and had lied about doing it. Now they were at the mercy of the elements because of his negligence. To make it worse, Wyatt could not find the rock bluff that would provide the added shelter they would need.

“Fine. Let’s get moving,” Kyle replied, not attempting to hide his anger and frustration.

Kyle had paid close attention when they hiked in. Now, as they were trying to make their way out of the woods, he did not recognize any of the distinctive landmarks he had taken note of as they had hiked into the forest. He had hoped it was only because of the nearly blinding snow whirling around them. The alternative chilled him even more than the weather. The thought that they were lost.

As they rounded a bend in the trail, Kyle saw something he knew had not been there on the trek into the forest. Sitting nearly hidden among the trees beside the path was an old cabin. Kyle wanted to cheer and run to it, but hesitated. He had an ominous feeling about it.

“Forget the tent! We have a cabin!” Wyatt yelled over the wind.

“Yeah…I don't know about this. It isn't ours, and we have no idea who the owner is. Do you even remember seeing it when we came in?” Kyle asked.

“No, I don’t remember it,” Wyatt snapped. “I also do not want to become a human popsicle. That means I am going in there. You can stay out here and freeze to death in the tent if you want.”

Kyle reluctantly followed Wyatt to the front of the cabin. When they reached the door, they could see it had a large hasp and lock securing it. The words “Do Not Enter” were scrawled across the door in dark red paint, making Kyle think of dried blood.

“Wyatt, I don’t think we should go in there,” Kyle said. “Whoever owns this place is making it clear that he does not want anyone going in there.”

Wyatt scoffed, “If he didn’t want people using it, then he should be living in it to keep others out.”

Kyle put his hands up to say he was not going to argue. He watched as Wyatt picked up a piece of firewood near the door and hefted it in his hand.

Wyatt began hammering at the lock and hasp, trying to break it loose. He continued to beat on it until there was a metallic snap as the hasp finally broke free from the door.

“Ha!” Wyatt shouted as he threw the stick of wood off to the side. “Now, we can get warm or at least not be as cold.”

Wyatt pulled hard against the door. When he forced it open, a gust of wind came from inside, blasting the men with dust.

Kyle let out a slight cough as he followed Wyatt inside. The musty air coming out of the cabin set his nerves on edge. He knew they should not be in that building, but he also knew they needed the shelter.

They worked to close and secure the door. It did not have a doorknob, only a handle. The pair used a rope and hook mounted to the wall beside the door that looked as if that was its purpose.

Wyatt and Kyle looked around the cabin as their eyes adjusted to the dim light inside. There was a single, small window in each wall of the one-room structure. A cast-iron stove was at the back of the cabin. Vines snaked their way up the walls and into the rafters. The only furniture it contained was a single table and two wooden chairs.

Kyle dug his flashlight out of his pack and used it to look around. He saw lanterns, candles, and some firewood near the stove. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw that. They would finally be able to get warm and even cook something for their dinner.

“So…are you going to say it or not?” Wyatt asked.

“Say what?” Kyle asked, confused.

“That this was a good idea. I mean, seriously, look around. We will be warm, dry, and be able to have a hot meal,” Wyatt bragged.

Wyatt had taken off his backpack and was busily digging through it to find his flashlight. When he found it, he turned it on and then started searching in the pack for the matches and food for dinner.

“Okay,” Kyle conceded. “You might have had a good idea, but I still don’t feel right about it.”

Skittering came from the back corner of the cabin. Both men jerked their heads up and pointed their lights toward the sound. They saw nothing except the vines that had invaded the structure.

“It was probably just a mouse,” Wyatt said, trying to convince himself as much as he was Kyle.

“Yeah, a mouse. I’m sure that is what it was,” Kyle replied. “Give me the matches, so I can start a fire, light a couple of candles, and see if the lanterns have any oil.”

Wyatt fished out the matches and handed them to Kyle. Kyle first checked one of the lanterns and was surprised to find it still contained oil. He lit it and turned off his flashlight, sticking it in his backpack.

The warm glow of the lantern filled the tiny cabin as Kyle began to light a fire in the cast-iron stove. He could hear Wyatt setting tins and packets of food on the table. Wyatt dropped their lone pot on the table with a clang, making Kyle turn to look at him.

“Sorry,” Wyatt said, rolling his eyes.

Kyle went back to the fire as he shook his head. The kindling worked well and quickly caught the smaller pieces of wood Kyle had added. Soon, Kyle had a roaring fire going and closed the door to the stove. The door was glass, which thankfully added even more light to the room.

Kyle sat beside the stove, soaking up the warmth as Wyatt dumped packets and tins in the small pot to cook on top of the cast iron. He looked up into the rafters, almost mesmerized by the eerie flickers of light and shadows that disappeared into complete darkness at the roof's peak.

“So, what are you cooking?” Kyle asked.

Wyatt held up an empty package and answered, “It is supposed to be Spanish rice.”

“Supposed to be? Your confidence in your culinary abilities is amazing,” Kyle replied sarcastically.

“Don’t blame me. It is pre-packaged dehydrated rations designed for surviving the zombie apocalypse.”

“A zombie apocalypse would be just the thing to top off this trip,” Kyle answered, shaking his head. “How long will it take for dinner to cook? I’m starving.”

“The package says it has to cook for fifteen minutes after it reaches a boil.”

“Good, that gives me time to get my sleeping bag ready for the night before we eat,” Kyle said, pulling his backpack to him.

“Are you going to set up my sleeping bag while you’re at it? I am cooking for you, after all.”

“No, I’m not,” Kyle answered. “You are the one who did not check the weather, got us lost, and made it necessary to break into a stranger’s cabin. You can set up your own sleeping bag.”

Wyatt did not say anything. He only looked at Kyle sheepishly. Kyle knew that Wyatt had lied about checking the weather, and his lack of response confirmed it. He was furious with Wyatt, and he could do nothing about it. The damage was already done.

As Kyle began to prepare his bed for the night, he heard a scratch along the outside wall of the cabin. He dismissed it as the wind making a branch scrape on the building. After a few minutes, he heard another, this time on the opposite wall.

“Did you hear that?” he asked Wyatt.

“Hear what?”

“Never mind. That answers my question,” Kyle said with a sigh.

Kyle went back to what he was doing. He quickly finished getting his sleeping bag and other things ready for the night and settled in as he waited for Wyatt to finish their dinner.

Wyatt announced, “I think the food is done.”

“You think?” Kyle asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What? I've never made this stuff before,” Wyatt defended.

“Didn’t I suggest getting some before we did this and trying it at home first?”

“You did, and I did not do it because I had exams. The only thing I have been eating the past two weeks is whatever I could have delivered.”

Wyatt filled two bowls he had placed on the table while Kyle retrieved two bottles of water from his pack. Just as they sat down at the table, a gust of wind shook the cabin. They both looked up as if expecting the roof to come off the old building.

“Bet you’re glad I broke into this place now, aren’t you?” Wyatt asked.

“Oh yeah. Right after you got us lost in the blizzard, you didn’t know was coming,” Kyle answered. “You take a bite of the rice first.”

“Why?”

“Because if you don’t die, then I will eat it,” Kyle answered with a smile.

Wyatt glared at him and said, “Ha, ha, very funny.”

“I’m not kidding. You got me lost in a blizzard. You might be trying to kill me.”

“I am not trying to kill you,” Wyatt said as he took a bite of the rice. “See! It’s fine. Anyway, if I wanted to kill you, there are easier ways. Remember the cliff we were standing on this morning? I could have pushed you off.”

Kyle opened his mouth to give a reply when a noise above them made him stop. A rustling of leaves and a squeak of vines being stretched came from the darkness in the rafters. As soon as the men looked up, the sound stopped.

Wyatt asked, “What was that?”

“I don’t know. Probably just a rat or something,” Kyle answered.

Kyle was trying to hide his growing panic. He had felt it as soon as he had seen the cabin, and being inside made him feel fear in a way he had never felt before. Kyle wanted to grab his gear and make a run for their car, but they were still lost. He had no idea which way he needed to go.

“If it’s just a rat, why do you look so worried?” Wyatt asked.

“The only thing I am worried about is if, whatever that is, will want to cuddle tonight while we try to sleep,” Kyle lied. “Just eat and don’t worry about it. You have enough to worry about as you ask yourself if I am going to murder you in your sleep for getting us stranded out here.”

“Very funny. You know it wasn’t my fault,” Wyatt chided as he stuffed a spoonful of rice into his mouth.

“Maybe, but I’m still going to blame you for it.”

“Whatever makes you feel better, dude,” Wyatt said as he rolled his eyes.

As they ate, a long, low moan came from the vines above them as they again stretched and moved. Kyle and Wyatt stared into the darkness and were horrified to see thick tendrils shudder. One large stalk that ran to the floor in the corner behind the stove was pulsing and wiggling.

“What the…?” Wyatt blurted out as he jumped up from the table and backed away from the vine.

“I don’t know!” Kyle exclaimed. “Grab what you can! We have to get out of here!”

The two men scrambled to gather what they could as the vines lurched and writhed above and around them. Kyle grabbed his coat as he heard a cry from behind him. He gasped at what he saw.

Wyatt was fighting at the tendrils wrapping around his legs and up his body. Wyatt let out a scream of agony as the vines pierced his back and continued upward, under his skin. The screech of pain turned into a gurgle, then stopped as they erupted out of his mouth. Wyatt’s body hung limp as Kyle backed away, tripping over his backpack and falling to the floor.

Kyle scrambled to his feet with his coat in his hand. He struggled to get the knots in the rope untied and the door open as he heard the movement behind him getting closer. The last knot came free just as Kyle felt one of the vines touch his leg. Throwing the door open, he ran into the darkness without looking back.

The snow pelted Kyle as he ran into the night. The wind bit at him as he struggled to put on his coat while he ran. In the total darkness, he could not see where he was or where he was going. He ran in a panic until he ran headlong into a large tree. The impact was so violent, he was knocked to the ground. As he lay there, gasping for air, he could feel the warm blood running down his face and filling his mouth.

His face, ears, and hands were stinging from the cold. Each snowflake that hit felt like a hot pin stabbing him. Kyle pulled himself to his feet, leaning on the tree he had hit for support. His head swam, and sparks of light flashed before him as he moved his head and looked around. A wave of panic hit him as he began to understand his situation fully. He was lost. Even if he made it back to the car, his phone was in the cabin, and Wyatt had the keys in his pocket.

Kyle slid down the tree trunk to sit in the snow at its base. He tried to calm down and formulate a plan to survive the night at least. He had no supplies, no method of communicating, not even a light. Kyle knew what the cold would do to him and that it would happen faster with the wind and snow. He had no choice; he had to try to make it out and back to the vehicle. Then he would stand a chance of someone finding him and getting help. He knew Wyatt was dead, but he couldn’t leave him there in that cabin. He couldn’t leave the cabin. It needed to be destroyed.

Kyle pulled himself to his feet and began to move. This time, it was with short, measured steps, as he felt in front of himself with his outstretched arms. He could not afford to be injured again or make the injuries he had worse.

-

Kyle had been walking for hours. He knew that only because he was beginning to see the sky lighten as he continued to move. The snow had almost come to an end, with only a few fine flakes still lingering in the air.

He was starting to stumble, and all he wanted to do was sleep. Hypothermia was setting in. He looked at his bare hands and knew they were frostbitten. His fingers were numb, white, and waxy. He had not been able to move his left hand for some time. His right hand was beginning to fail as well as he pushed forward.

Kyle tripped and fell forward, landing heavily in the snow. He looked up to see he had broken through the trees and was on a trail. Kyle began to laugh with joy. He might make it out. All he had to do was find a trail marker to tell him where he was and how to get out or to a ranger’s station.

Kyle pulled himself to his feet and resumed trudging through the snow. The snow was deeper on the trail, and the struggle to walk was making him hot. Kyle knew he should have been cold, but he was so hot he wanted to take off his coat. As he tried to unzip his parka, he broke down and began to sob. His fingers had frozen and were useless.

He continued to struggle against the snow as he slowly made his way along the trail. Each step was more labored than the last. Kyle collapsed to his knees on the trail. He fell on his side as the last bit of his strength left him. He tried to yell, but only a faint croak came from his frozen lips.

As Kyle lay in the snow, he began to hear a sound. Growing closer, he could tell that it was a snowmobile. His heart jumped at the prospect of being saved. When the snowmobile came within sight, he could see that it was a forest ranger. It stopped near him, and the ranger approached.

“Help me,” Kyle whispered.

“Are you Wyatt?” the forest ranger asked as he reached Kyle and knelt beside him. “We found a car registered to him in the parking lot at the trailhead.”

“No. Kyle,” he groaned. “Wyatt, cabin.”

“Were you in the cabin with him?” the ranger demanded.

“Yes,” Kyle exhaled.

“Son of a…!” the forest ranger growled at Kyle. “Why can’t you stupid kids ever listen when you are told not to do something?”

The ranger walked back to his snowmobile. He dug through a pack and pulled out a two-way radio. He glared at Kyle, lying in the snow, and exhaled before keying up the mic.

“Sir, this is Rogers. We have two. One made it out of the cabin and is almost dead from hypothermia. He said the second is still in the cabin,” the ranger said, then waited for a reply.

“Leave him, and go re-secure the cabin,” a voice came back over the radio. “We will handle it like all the others.”

“Yes, sir,” the ranger answered. The ranger put the radio away before walking back to where Kyle lay.

“Help me,” Kyle whispered.

“Sorry, kid. You and your friend should not have gone into that cabin. You think you are entitled to do what you want, and this is the consequence of your actions. Unfortunately, this is the last lesson you are ever going to learn,” the forest ranger told him coldly.

Kyle listened helplessly as the footsteps moved away from him. His body was failing, but his mind was still processing what was happening. The forest service knew about the cabin. They were the ones who had painted the sign on the door. To keep that cabin a secret, they were going to let him die with no remorse. He heard the snowmobile engine come to life and move further into the woods. He exhaled one last time as his heart stopped beating.

-

When the forest ranger reached the cabin, he sighed as he looked at the broken hasp. He had brought everything he needed to repair the damage. At least once a year, someone would ignore the warning painted on the door and meet their end in the cabin. What lived in it had been there for decades. They had tried to kill it, but it wouldn’t die.

The ranger carefully opened the door and peered in. The backpacks of the two hikers were on the floor, and various items were scattered around the cabin. The bowls and pot were still on the table with food in them. He went inside as silently as possible and began to collect the men's gear in the cabin, tossing it outside as quickly as possible.

He turned back and faced the stove, taking note of the dying embers that remained. He knew that even if the cabin had burned to the ground, what lived there would still endure. A rustle behind the stove caused him to pause. He then looked just in time to see the sole of a hiking boot disappear into the foliage.

“I know,” the ranger said softly. “We try to keep them out. I’m leaving.”

The ranger closed the door behind him and quickly gathered everything from the young men. It would all be taken back to the ranger station and disposed of like all of the times before. After securing the bags to the snowmobile, he went to work, attaching the new hasp and lock to the door. He jerked on the lock to ensure it was solid before getting on his snowmobile and starting the engine. He let out a sigh as he left the cabin. He hoped that would be the last time he would need to do what he did, but deep in his gut, he knew this would happen again. People are curious and, at times, careless when it suits their needs.