Colton First Responder. Linda O. Johnston
so no person or wild animal would be able to enter that way.
For now, she went back inside. One thing she had to do was to find some water and food. Was there anything like that in this deserted cabin? If she found anything, would she dare to eat or drink it, or might it make her sick?
Well, first things first. She would at least look around a bit more. She stood up again and, using the flashlight, walked along the wooden floor, making as little noise as possible—not that she anticipated anyone was close enough to hear her footsteps. She first looked at the inside of the partially caved-in wall and the part of the cabin that had suffered some damage. She wasn’t certain what had been there—a storage area, maybe. But the rest of the place seemed fairly livable.
Next, she headed toward a kitchen with a sink and cabinets.
The door of the first cabinet creaked a bit as she opened it. All that was inside were some light green plastic plates and bowls.
She closed that door and tried another. A little better. There were some cans in it, of soup and corn and black beans. Yeah! Assuming she could find a can opener, she might be able to get both sustenance and a bit of liquid in her from one of those. She pulled out the vegetable soup, figuring it would potentially be the most nutritious. Since beggars couldn’t be choosers, she considered not even checking the expiration date stamped on the bottom of the can—but it probably would be better for her to know, if it was out of date, by how much.
Making herself ill after her escape wouldn’t be a good idea.
Still standing there by the cabinet above the sink, she moved the flashlight to examine the bottom of the can more closely.
And smiled. It had plenty of time left before its expiration date. That suggested people had used this cabin recently, but she remained glad they weren’t there now.
Okay. Now she needed to find that can opener, plus a spoon. She aimed the flashlight toward the areas on both sides of the sink, seeing drawers there.
The first drawer she opened had some gadgets in it, including a spatula, whisk—and, yes, a can opener and scissors.
Scissors. One of the things she could do to change her appearance was to cut her hair, make it a lot shorter than its current shoulder length. People who didn’t know her might not recognize her—since she was now on the run.
She had already gone inside the bathroom after her arrival and had noticed a mirror over the sink there. Now, scissors in hand, she hurried back across the wooden floor in that direction.
Was this too impulsive, especially in the darkness? The flashlight helped, but it wasn’t very bright. Sure, it might be a dumb thing to do, but achieving anything to alter her appearance even a little couldn’t hurt.
And so, after regarding herself and her current hairstyle in the mirror, she started snipping. Then snipped some more, creating short bangs, cutting her hair everywhere she could see, everywhere she could reach.
When she was done a few minutes later, she shook her head and laughed, just a little. Who was that waif with a chin-length haircut staring at her in the mirror?
Surely that couldn’t be Savannah Oliver, right?
And actually, she wasn’t an Oliver anymore. Zane and she were recently divorced, but, partly thanks to his disappearance and its consequences, she hadn’t yet legally returned to using her maiden name, Murphy. First on her list of places to go would be the DMV, where she could get a new driver’s license.
Someday.
For now, she used her hands to gather as much of her hair from the sink and floor as she could and placed it in a small pile on the floor near the wall. Once it was light out again, she would need to find a plastic bag or wastebasket to dump it in and hide it. No need to leave evidence of her changed looks if anyone searching for her found this place.
Okay, now she was finally ready to eat, and to drink what she could from the can she chose. She exited the bathroom and returned to the kitchen.
Before opening the soup, though, she went looking for bottled water. The refrigerator was turned off, but she found a few bottles of water inside.
Yes! Savannah took one out and closed the door.
She opened the can of soup while standing near the sink, pulled a spoon out of another drawer after looking around again and sat down at the kitchen table.
Even cold, the vegetable soup tasted good. She ate it slowly, savoring it, continuing to see in the near darkness thanks to the glow of the flashlight, and keeping the scissors with her, too, in case she felt compelled to cut even more hair off. She’d check in the mirror again once daylight arrived, to see if additional trimming was necessary to even it out.
And as much as she hated to think about it, the scissors could also become a weapon if she was attacked by anyone looking for her, or even a looter or wild animal, out here in the middle of nowhere.
As she ate, she felt exhaustion closing in. And no wonder. It had been one heck of a difficult yet promising day. She’d go to sleep after this. What would tomorrow bring?
She finished soon and stood, waving the flashlight again toward where she presumed the garbage can would be. And—
What was that? A sound from outside—a scraping, maybe, from the front yard.
Had she imagined it? It could just be something moving after the quake....
She moved slightly to face a window near the front door—and saw light. Not moonlight, but a glow that could have come from a flashlight, only more heavy-duty than hers, since the light was really bright.
Had the cabin owners come back here now, in the middle of the night after an earthquake?
Or—might the van have been found, and any authorities sent out to find her?
Savannah looked hurriedly around, attempting to find something to use as cover but wound up staying where she was.
Had she locked the door behind her when she had ventured outside? Damn. She didn’t believe she had, since she had intended to peek out again.
She clasped the handle of the scissors tightly. If necessary, she could—and would—defend herself.
His search had actually led to someone.
Grayson hadn’t really believed he would find anyone out here in the middle of the night and this far out from town. It was his mission to continue to seek people in trouble after the earthquake, including whoever had left the back of the van, if anyone. Whether or not a criminal, any person in that position could have been injured.
Still, if someone had been inside that vehicle and gotten out—well, it was a van from the prison department, so Grayson did not forget his promise to himself to be careful. He didn’t want to lose his own life attempting to save someone else, especially someone who was dangerous and didn’t want to be found.
After the EMTs had taken away the deceased driver, he’d continued to look, finding no one else on the road or in the woods on his way here. He had reached a cabin, one of his last potential locations to scout before heading home. He had figured this cabin or another one nearby would be a logical place for anyone in trouble to seek out. It was a fishing cabin owned by one of the families in Mustang Valley. There was a small lake nearby, fed by a stream.
At first glance there seemed to be no one present, but he’d stopped to check. Especially when he thought he had seen a moving light through a window.
Using his own bright light to look around, he noticed that one side of the cabin, maybe a quarter of the whole structure, looked nearly destroyed. Would anyone really have gone inside?
Maybe, if they were injured or desperate. He had to find out.
Slowly, carefully, still using his own light to be sure he saw anything, he approached.