The Cabin Is Always Hungry

Arc 2 | Finders Keepers (2)

FINDERS KEEPERS

Part 2

Not even two hours after the cabin was built and the demon left to dig up my body a few miles away, I encountered a major problem.

A white van approached from the main southern road but didn’t look lost. At first, I thought it was Coach Hodge and his little band of cultist fucks, but I instructed the demon not to text them until we retrieved my dead body back to the cabin. However, the van drove past the branching dirt path leading to my place, heading straight for the abandoned Cedar Pine Summer Camp’s entrance a few miles up the road.

There was one great benefit of building a permanent dungeon. Though I could only actively affect an area around a two-mile radius, I could “see” past another mile or two. I still couldn’t reach the other side of the mountain and peek over the hundreds of people visiting Cascadia Lodge, but it allowed me to spy and observe a large swathe of my domain, including Cedar Pine. If I remained a core, I wouldn’t even be able to see this van coming.

It felt strange, wasn’t it? My domain. It was the most appropriate thing I could think of to describe my new place. So, I projected myself inside the van unnoticed, a passive observer amidst my intruders.

Two men sat on the front seat, clad in darker clothes and wearing black gloves. I noticed one of them had a pistol holstered on his belt. Two more men sat on the back, wearing similar clothing, but flanked another—fifth—man curled up on the floor with a bag over his head. A rope tightly bound his wrists behind his back.

“What the fuck?” I muttered out loud. I cringed, waiting for their heads to turn around to where I stood, but they didn’t react. I gotta get used to being invisible to humans.

One of the men from the back kicked the bound man. He didn’t stir. “Nah, still knocked out,” he said. “Are we there yet, bro?”

The driver glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah. Just about.” He slowed the van down and veered gently onto the driveway leading toward the camp, passing by the sign:

WELCOME TO CEDAR PINE!

ENJOY YOUR STAY DEATH!

The STAY section was spray painted off. Under the DEATH part was a graffiti of a skull skewered by a knife. How lovely. Since it had been abandoned, numerous teenagers and some college students frequented the camp for a night of drinking and debauchery. The Gradys had put up a gate last year to dissuade the trespassers from ruining more of their property, but it didn’t stop people from hiking and jumping the fence. The sheriff’s office would sometimes send a squad car to check out the property once during the day and night over the weekend since they’re good friends with the family.

And I recognized the driver’s voice.

Moving to the front, Leo Grady, the late Old Man Grady’s eldest son, parked the van in front of the gate. Leo hopped out of the vehicle, fishing for a set of keys from his pocket, and opened the padlocked gate. He swung it open. He gestured for the other man in the front (now behind the wheel) to drive forward. Then, he closed the gate behind them. He climbed back into the van, taking the empty passenger seat.

“Are you sure no one’s gonna bother us out here?” The driver asked.

“Not many people come here, John,” Leo said. “It’s private property. My property. We’re good.”

The driver—John—nodded. “It better be.”

Leo had changed drastically since I last saw him five years ago when Cedar Pine was open before they shut down permanently. He used to work as one of the camp counselors—one of the better ones, in my opinion—and he taught me how to build a fire in the woods and identify what kind of mushrooms were safe enough to eat around the area.

Now, he had sheared off his 90s Leonardo DiCaprio blonde locks (well known by all the girls in the camp crushing on him) to a faded buzz cut. He was paler than usual. Last I heard, he joined the army after the camp shut down, and the rest of the Grady children moved to Portland while Abigail Grady stayed in Point Hope, but I didn’t realize he was back. I didn’t remember seeing him around town either, but then again, I did not have a good track record with my memory lately. I noticed the tattoos peeking from his wrist and upper chest.

I didn’t know much about this John fellow. He was the same age as Leo, looking like he was in his late twenties (maybe early thirties?), and he was the one carrying the gun. My knowledge about guns was limited by what my father had in his safe, but it looked like John carried a 9mm. It could be a Glock, which probably held at least fifteen rounds. If they ever find the Goliath, they could stun him with that.

What brought them out here? Were they another group of cultists sacrificing the guy they tied up? It didn’t look like it. They didn’t carry any weird stuff I saw on the meadow—no extra jars or markings they had to lay out. There wasn’t even a glowing gem.

I didn’t get the memo that being part of a cult is a popular hobby these days. Maybe if I joined one, I wouldn’t end up dead. If they’re genuinely part of a cult, I’ll just kill them. No question.

But they were something else. Something new.

Back at the cabin, I woke up the Goliath, sitting quietly under the cellar and staring at the blank wall. Before I was interrupted, I watched him do that for two hours. Creepy, but I didn’t have a lot of entertainment to go around lately. Watching the tv seemed arbitrary, and I also didn’t have cable or paid for several streaming services (a point I’d get back to later once the cultists were gone).

The Goliath rose from his squat position and stared at me with that haunting, murderous gaze.

“Um, we have potential visitors,” I said. “They’re at the Cedar Pine Summer Camp.”

The Goliath nodded and picked up the axe leaning against the wall.

The strangers drove for another two minutes until they reached the camp proper, where they parked in front of the visitor’s center, the main lodge in the middle of the camp. The four men hopped out of the vehicle; the last one roughly yanked the bound man out and let him fall flat on his face on the dirt. He laughed lowly. The bound man groaned awake.

“Scottie!” John glared at him. “Careful!”

“What?” Scottie shrugged. He looked like a younger version of John, only with lighter brown hair than the former’s darker shade. I reckoned this must be John’s younger brother. Maybe a cousin? “We’re gonna hurt him anyway.”

“Not out here, you’re not,” John pushed him away from the bound man and smacked him on the back of the head. “Out here, you follow my lead; you got that?” Scottie rolled his eyes. John pointed to the fourth man, a tall and lanky guy with thick-rimmed glasses standing by the side, and clearly didn’t want to get involved in the spat between John and Scottie. “Art, pick him up and get him inside the lodge,” John ordered.

“Yes, boss.” Art shot Scottie a sympathetic look before he put his arms under the bound man’s armpit and dragged him into the lodge while Leo opened the door.

John leaned closer to Scottie. “You want this job or not?”

Scottie scoffed and was about to walk toward the porch when John grabbed his elbow and dragged him back to face him.

“Hey, I’m talking to you. Do you want this money, Scottie?”

“Yeah,” Scottie lowered his head. “I already told you.”

“Then you don’t fuck this up. You asked to join the big boys. Well, this is the grand club. No more dealing shit on the street where you’re top dog because out here, shit gets real, okay?”

“I got it.”

“I didn’t hear you.”

“I said I fucking got it!” Scottie shook John’s hand on his shoulder. “Jeez, John. You sound like Dad.” Scottie stomped into the visitor’s center, almost elbowing Leo.

I could tell that Leo and Scottie hated each other, and his relationship with John was strained at best.

John heaved a sigh and followed after him.

“Hey,” Leo stopped him. “He gonna be a problem?”

“Nah.” John shook his head. “He’s just dipping his toes.”

“He better not drown then. We’re gonna have to finish by dawn,” Leo said. “I hope he has the stomach for it.”

“Unlike you, Leo, my brother and I grew up in the street. We learned to have strong stomachs.”

Leo chuckled. “Oh, good. The more, the merrier. I hate to perform to a dead audience.” He jogged back to the van. “Let me get my tools.”

“And can we do something about the lights? It’s fucking dark out here, man.” John looked up to a moonless sky.

Leo smiled, the same smile he would flash at the girls in the camp. “Sure. I’ve just got the thing.”

By tools, he meant a hefty duffel bag with all sorts of gear: ropes, an assortment of knives from big to small, hammers, needles, crowbar, scissors, pliers, and many more. He grabbed a gas can from the back of the van, strolled into the lodge, and put enough juice on the generator. Lights illuminated the place.

“And…let there be light,” he muttered to John after he turned on the generator. “See? That was easy.”

John sighed. “Now, on to the hard part. Let’s get this over with.”

“What are you talking about? I’m the one doing all the work.”

John scratched his chin. “You could use the exercise.”

“Got a gym membership for three years, fool.”

“Well, I’d rather watch TV than babysit tonight.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“After tonight, things might change for once.”

Leo shot him a curious look. He didn’t want to pry, but t was threatening to spill out of his lips. “What’d you mean by that?”

John, out of habit, looked around for any keen ears. “I was thinking of moving to Chicago with Scottie for a while now. You know, leave this thing all behind?”

Leo took a step back. “What, like, leave Mercer?”

John nodded.

“That’s a high price than kidnapping some guy,” Leo said. They rounded the corner and entered the mess hall.

“Hopefully, I’ll catch him on a good day.”

Leo snorted. “That’s going to take a month. At least.”

“Can’t hurt to try.”

“So, Chicago, huh? Good luck.”

“Thanks, man.”

“Did you break the news to Scottie yet?”

“You know him. He’ll complain. He’ll grovel. Then, he’ll follow.”

Art dragged the bound man across the lobby, the mess hall, and then into an empty office, kicking away empty cans of beer bottles and old sleeping bags. He and Scottie lifted him onto a chair, keeping his wrists tied behind his back. A minute later, Leo and John entered the room. The former turned his nose at the small graffiti on the wall about how Wayne Loftus and Candace Purcell fucked and got pregnant here. There were also various graffitis of dicks, big breasts, and, oddly enough, tons of cats.

Leo frowned. “I’m gonna have to ask my brother to clean that up when he comes here next month.”

“Nice dig you got,” Scottie huffed. “Might have to buy it later. It’s cozy.”

“I hope you have a million bucks then,” Leo said. “We’ve been trying to sell it for years now.”

“Have you asked Mercer?” Art asked. “This can be a good hideout for the crew.”

Leo paused. I could tell that the thought perturbed him a little. He didn’t want this Mercer guy to get his hands on his property. “It didn’t cross my mind,” he lied. He then gestured over to Art. “Take off his hood.”

Art nodded and took it off. The bound man flinched, squinting his eyes from the bright light. He was a balding man in his mid-forties. Dark mustache with a prominent pot belly. He’s the type of guy you’d find sitting at the front of the bar with a tall glass of beer, watching sports and catcalling women by the alley: an average Italian-American, blue-collar Joe from the city. I didn’t know what he did for Leo and his goons to kidnap and bring him out here.

As his vision adjusted, it landed on Leo.

“Leo! The fuck!” He tried to get his wrists off but realized it was bound together. “What—what the fuck are you doing, man? This better be some sick joke.”

“Hey, Eddie,” Leo gave a small, casual wave. Just another day at the office vibes. “And, no, this isn’t a joke, sadly.”

“Does Mercer know about this?” Eddie spat. “My cousin’s not the man you want to mess with.”

“Huh. I’m getting scared already.”

“Quit fucking around, kid! Untie me now. Look, you’re new—”

“Uh-huh?”

“—And I’ll let my cousin know this is just you being green. That’s all. Whatever the Gallahan Boys paid you, we’ll double it! Swear!”

Leo shrugged. “Oh, before you say anything more, Eddie, Mercer’s the one who sent us.”

Eddie paused for a long moment. “No. No, he didn’t. My cousin wouldn’t do that.”

Leo fished out his phone. “Sure, sure. Do you want me to call him? I have him on speed dial. But knowing your cousin, he’s not the type of guy to be bothered at night unless it’s an emergency.” Leo put the phone back in his pocket.

“My cousin wouldn’t do that!” Eddie repeated.

“See, he just did.” Leo leaned closer. “Listen, Eddie. We don’t really have time for chit-chat or sit around a campfire singing kumbaya. Why don’t you tell us the name of the DEA agent you cut a deal with? Make it easy for you, man. If you don’t, the next few hours won’t be pretty.”

Eddie blanched. “I don’t know any DEA,” he said. “Wait—you think I’m a fucking narc? Fuck you, Leo! I didn’t do any of that shit! You—you got the wrong guy! I’m family!”

Leo stared at him for a moment. Nodded. “Well, you were. Then, you start…what did Mercer say again, John?”

John crossed his arms. “Skimming.”

“Ah. Yes. Skimming the books. For years, mind you! And you also made some unofficial deals with the other cartels when you were in Colombia for a few months, right? Cut a big paycheck for yourself? It’s probably why you can afford that house in Hillside. Not even Mercer has a house there, and I doubt your wife can afford the property from her advertising salary. What was her excuse again, John?”

“Big bonus at the company,” John said, sounding almost bored.

“Hm. Yes. A big bonus. I call bullshit. How much is the DEA paying you to bust one of our labs in the docks, Eddie?”

“So, this is what it’s about? The Glover job? That’s not me, Leo! I wasn’t even near that fucking place!”

“When you cause Mercer to lose three million bucks of operations and severed several contracts he worked on for half a decade to cultivate, you don’t really have an avenue to argue, Eddie. We know you didn’t work alone. Let’s face it, you’re a dumb son of a bitch, and you can never plan that Glover job all by yourself with your two brain cells.”

“Fuck. You.”

Leo shrugged. “I’ll pass. Aside from you, who’s the rat?”

Eddie looked around the room to the other two men standing at the sidelines. He wanted to beg them to stop Leo, but I realized he didn’t even recognize who they were.

“Please, Leo. You got the wrong guy. You gotta believe me! Look, I don’t know you too well, but my cousin trusts you, and my cousin trusts me, too! We can work together! There must be some misunderstanding. I…yes! I got set up! It’s a setup! Someone’s trying to take my place and wants to get rid of me!”

I shook my head. Even I could see the guy scrambling for any reason to get out of the hole he was quickly digging into—poor guy.

Leo pursed his lips. “A conspiracy?”

“Yes. Yes! Exactly! Someone’s trying to take me out. It’s the Gallahans. We don’t know what those Scottish fucks got up their sleeves, man. Maybe…or maybe it’s the Chens! We don’t trust the Chinese, right? You know. You fought against them and all.”

“I served in the Middle East. And we’re not at war with the Chinese,” Leo said. “But cool story. The problem is, Eddie, you’re not that high on the ladder when you think about it. It’ll be an inconvenience to take you down a peg. Frankly, It’s not worth the hassle.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said? Mercer trusts me!”

Art and Scottie chuckled from behind. Leo continued, “Oh, but he fucking doesn’t. Never has. You should have read the room better, buddy. Even a newbie like me can see it.”

“No, no. He trusts me,” Eddie groaned. “Listen, I don’t know anyone who works for the DEA, alright? Swear to God!”

Leo heaved a sigh and frowned at John. “But we suspect a rat in the barrel, Eddie, and you know who he is. You’re gonna help us root him out.”

“But I don’t know anything…”

“Then, hopefully, by midnight, you will.” Leo grabbed his duffel bag from behind the door and put it on the desk. Zipping it open, he fished out a rusty set of pliers. “Let’s start with your right molar.”

They tortured Eddie for two hours, and I watched everything. It didn’t make my stomach turn like what the demon did to the cultists in the Yates’s residence but with a startling fascination. As if I was a voyeur at something I shouldn’t bear witness to, drawn by the violence these men inflicted on another. They were like ants behind a glass terrarium.

Leo knew what he was doing. That was obvious. Whatever shit he went through in the Middle East, he used those tactics while wearing civilian clothing, got into a mob, and quickly became their go-to lackey. A lot had happened in five years, and how quickly a person’s luck changed. I mean, look at me. I’m now a glowing rock.

A twig snapped from behind the window, drowned only by Eddie’s screams and sobs. Fortunately, the people in the room did not notice.

The Goliath spied in the shadows, waiting. After he watched for half an hour, he moved toward the door.

“Stop,” I said. “Wait.”

He turned to face me, curious.

“They are armed,” I said.

The Goliath slightly lifted his axe and puffed up his chest.

“Yes, I know you are durable, but it will stun you, and they will escape. If you die, I won’t be able to get you back in a week.”

Behind the mask, I could feel the Goliath raise his eyebrow and gesture at the men questioningly. It seemed to appreciate I was concerned for its well-being.

“They are not in the dungeon yet,” I paused as Leo waterboarded Eddie for the third time. “For now, we wait.”

I couldn’t tell if the Goliath looked disappointed, but it followed my command nonetheless, keeping to the shadows and spying as Art and Scottie came in and out of the room for a smoke break.

So tempting, I thought.

The Goliath could easily sneak behind and drag them into the woods. But then the others would have noticed them going missing. Then I could lure more delvers to the cabin. The massacre on Green Hill still left me hungry for more essence.

No, get that thought out of your head.

The smart choice was to wait for this one out. These men might be long gone once the cultists arrive at the cabin, but a lot could happen tonight. The demon hadn’t come back with my dead body yet. And if these guys ever stepped into my borders…

Well, they’re fair game.

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