Chapter 10
It wasn't a car. MaryAnn knew that for certain. She had been listening for the car for so many hours, she felt sure she would have recognized it immediately. No, it definitely wasn't a car. It was a plane, flying low over the trees.
MaryAnn threw back the blankets which were covering her and left the bed. She walked through the darkness to the window. She pulled the curtain to one side and looked out.
She first checked the driveway for the car, hoping against hope that it would be there. However, the driveway was empty.
So, where in the hell were Karla and Tony? They had left early that morning. Denning Creek was only three hours away. Even taking into account the two or three hours Tony might have had to spend in the doctor's office, one or both of them should have been back a long time ago.
But, then, maybe MaryAnn was worrying about nothing. Maybe the explanation was quite simple. The examination might have taken longer than expected. Karla and Tony might have decided to spend the night in Denning Creek. But, then, MaryAnn had brought up the latter possibility before Tony and Karla had left, hadn't she? And, Karla had assured her that they would be back at the cabin that evening. Still....
She heard the plane again before she saw it. She looked skyward and saw nothing but a pale sky and treetops. But, she kept looking, curious as to why it was so difficult to join the visual plane with its noise.
MaryAnn finally caught a glimpse of it just as it skimmed the trees on an obvious descent toward the lake surface. She heard the motor finally sputter and go out.
Someone had brought the plane in at night. And, they had done so with very few lights. MaryAnn suddenly realized that it was the absence of any lights on board the plane that had made it so difficult to locate it in the night sky.
For a quick instant, she thought maybe Karla and Tony were returning by plane. But, she quickly stifled that idea. It was more likely that someone else with a cabin in the area was flying in for a few days. Although, they had been a little crazy to land on the lake in the dead of night without a bit more visibility for procedure.
MaryAnn went back to the bed and laid down on it. She couldn't stay too concerned about the plane, when she was so occupied with her thoughts concerning the whereabouts of her sister.
Oh, hell, what was the point of worrying at all? Something had probably just come up. Maybe Tony's shoulder was just more serious than they all thought it was. Maybe there had been more tests. Maybe the doctor had been out, and Karla and Tony had had to wait for him to return. There were a thousand and one explanations. And, MaryAnn was a big girl. Just because her sister wasn't around didn't mean the end of the world, did it? As a matter-of-fact, MaryAnn should have been enjoying her moments of privacy. She had spent hours thinking how she was being oppressed by the degenerate behavior and presence of her sister and her sister's lover, hadn't she? Now they were both gone, and she was in a stew!
She pulled her blankets up around her neck to her chin and shut her eyes. Privacy was what she had wanted. Privacy was what she had gotten.
Relax and enjoy, MaryAnn. Just relax, and enjoy. Soon enough Karla and Tony would be back, performing all sorts of perverted acts out there in the woods; and, MaryAnn would be in a snit because she wasn't somewhere by herself.
She must have dozed finally; because, when she came to consciousness, she did so with a start, actually jerking all of the way to a sitting position. For just a brief moment, she was disoriented. Finally, she realized where she was. She then listened for whatever it was that had disturbed her. A car? The plane?
She had about decided she had simply had a non-remembered nightmare when she heard it. A sound. From downstairs. Outside the front door.
Someone or something was down there, trying to get in!
Calm. She told herself to be calm. She told herself that she was imagining things. It was nothing but a branch against the side of the house. Maybe just a porcupine, rubbing its quills against the porch railing.
See, the sound had stopped! Obviously, it was nothing: nothing at all. MaryAnn was just overly nervous. She was conjuring hobgoblins, where there was really nothing at all.
MaryAnn reached for her robe on the chair by the side of the bed. She slipped it on over her shoulders and crawled out from beneath her covers. She pulled the robe belt secure, closing the heavier material around her flannel nightgown.
"What an ass you are, MaryAnn!" MaryAnn said to herself, thinking that her voice sounded strange and hollow in the empty house. She walked confidently (anyway, as confidently as possible), to the bedroom door. She opened the door and stepped out into the hallway beyond.
She stopped; she looked; she listened: three precautions she remembered having been drummed into her before she crossed any streets.
Was that another sound? Muted voices? No. It was just mere fabrication of her mind, wasn't it? Muted voices now, was it? MaryAnn told herself she would have to be careful, or she would soon be conjuring rapists at the door.
Rapists from where, for Christ's sake? There was no penal institute within miles. As a matter-of-fact, there was virtually nothing but wilderness all of the way to the Canadian border and then beyond.
MaryAnn went to the top of the stairs, stopping again. She listened again. She thought of turning on the lights, but she soon decided against that. Because if she turned on the lights, they would know she was inside.
They? God, she was suddenly thinking in the plural. Not one rapist any longer, mind you. More. How many more? Two? Three? Four? A whole gang of them?
Damn, she was being silly! No one was going to hurt her. Hell, there were people a little over a mile away. She had seen them land in the plane, hadn't she? Her screams would carry that far.
Screams? Damn, but she had to get off that macabre line of thought and start reasoning more realistically.
With a far greater bravura than she was really feeling, MaryAnn started down the stairs, mentally chastising herself when she was scared half out of her wits by the sound of a creaking step she had produced with her own body weight.
See, MaryAnn, nothing! Nothing at all! No spooks. No monsters. No vampires. Nothing. The downstairs was completely empty, except for what was supposed to be there. There was nothing more frightening than the glass-eyed bear head that was mounted over the fireplace.
She paused at the foot of the stairs, slowly forcing herself to cast aside the nonexistent spectres.
But just then, there was a loud noise against the front door; and the lock on the door broke, the door swinging in with a crashing reverberation that cracked the wood at its hinges.
MaryAnn screamed!