Der Schädelring: Thriller (German Edition)

were made of thick, hand-hewn logs.
    The climb into the mountains had been a blur. All Julia remembered was the vehicle bouncing and roaring as Walter climbed into the hills, a mad kaleidoscope of autumn leaves overhead, and Walter's occasionally reaching out to touch her arm. She had imagined hearing sirens and once thought she had seen Snead running between the trees alongside the old logging road.
    Julia looked out of the Jeep at the forest that surrounded the cabin. The dirt track dwindled to a footpath on the ridge behind the cabin. The surrounding mountains were lost in the mist, adding to Julia's disorientation. The air had grown heavier with an imminent storm.
    "What do you think?" Walter asked.
    "Where are we?"
    "Ten miles past nowhere, at our hunting cabin. Been the family getaway for three generations. I don't reckon our creepy friends will be able to find us here, at least not before we figure out our next move."
    "They'd better not follow us," Julia said. "It looks like we've run out of road."
    "That just means we're that much harder to find," Walter said. He got out of the Jeep and came around to the passenger side. Julia was already out of the door before he reached her. She leaned against the Jeep until she was reasonably sure she'd regained her balance. The fresh pine-and-loam aroma of the woods cleared her head.
    "I'm sorry to drag you into this mess," Julia said.
    "I was in this mess long before you came to town."
    "I don't have anything but my purse," she said. "I don't know if I can be much help snaring rabbits or whatever you mountain men do for food."
    Walter laughed softly, as if the surrounding forest relaxed him. "If we get that bad off, there's a couple of fishing poles inside. Got a few days' worth of canned goods, too, and a backpack of stuff in the Jeep. Compared to running from the devil, starving to death is the least of our problems."
    Walter unlocked the door and it swung inward with a groan of hinges. He stepped into the dark cabin while Julia studied the towering hardwoods. Walter emerged after half a minute. "It's safe," he said, glancing at the oppressive sky. "Come on in."
    Julia went past him into the cabin. The interior was chilly and steeped in old woodsmoke, and her eyes took a moment adjusting to the darkness. She made out a small table in the center of the room, a counter with a basin in the corner, and a small loft along one wall that she assumed contained the bed. Walter came in with an armload of firewood and soon had a blaze roaring in the fireplace.
    Julia knelt on the floor before the fire, grateful for the warmth. The flicker of flames threw jagged shadows up the walls, but the close quarters were comforting instead of threatening. The sky outside the windows was now charcoal streaked with silver, and the first drops of rain fell on the shake roof.
    "We'd better get the stuff out of the Jeep," Walter said.
    He'd said "we." He didn't expect her to sit there like a helpless child. They were in this mess together. Together, such a strange word. After all those years with Mitchell, she'd never felt "together" with him.
    Thunder rumbled across the mountains as they waited in the door. "If one of us gets struck by lightning, the other gets all the food," Walter said.
    The static electricity in the air revived Julia. "Let me see what you've got before I get my hopes up."
    They dashed to the Jeep, and Julia climbed in the front while Walter wrestled with the zipper at the rear of the canvas top. She passed him a rolled-up sleeping bag and slung his backpack over her shoulders. The rain fell harder as they ran back to the cabin, and they were both soaked by the time they stood panting before the fire.
    Walter pulled some cans from the backpack. "Sardines or Vienna sausages?"
    "You don't have any caviar in there, do you?"
    "Nope." He flashed his uneven smile. "Don't have any breath mints, either. I didn't expect to have anybody to please on my next trip up here."
    "I'm not hard to please." Julia peeled off her sweater, hung it from the log mantel, and checked the cell phone. Still no signal.
    Walter pulled a small bundle of clothes from the backpack. "Here," he said, tossing the clothes to Julia. "You don't want to be catching a cold. Makes it harder to run from devil worshippers."
    Julia stared at him.
    "Don't worry. I won't peek," he said. “I’m no gentleman, but I’m a man.”
    Julia went to the corner beneath the loft and kept her back turned as she took off her shoes