Chapter 2

Shooter had disappeared only a few minutes earlier, mostly owing to an enraged outburst from Mort.

Mort sat on the edge of his sofa, head in his hands. He still couldn't make any sense of it. He had half a mind to run outside after her, in his bathrobe and slippered feet, and beg her to come back in. He'd always thought that Shooter was a part of himself, but if Alexandra had seen him…It changed everything. He was already beginning to doubt his previous theories concerning Shooter's existence.... This incident only confused him more.

The silence of his cabin was dense, almost overwhelming. The only sounds comprehensible were the gentle ticking of his clock, and the low hum of his refrigerator. This was one of the times Mort wished very much that he had a television; to turn on just for the comfort of the sound of others' voices.

The evening shadows were beginning to creep inside and take over the corners of the room, and the ornamental lamp shed only a dim light over a small area around its bulb.

It used to feel cozy, warm and friendly and welcoming. Now that he was living completely alone, it felt more eerie than anything else. Rain began to drum a scattered beat on the roof of the cabin, a dull sound that reverberated through the frame of the building.

A sudden gust of wind howled outside his window, making Mort shudder as it reminded him of his wife's final shriek before her life was ended.

Something scraped along the exterior of the northern wall. He assumed it to be one of the trees, bent by the wind and feeling its way along his cabin with its branches. But he couldn't help his head filling with images of Amy and Ted's decaying bodies in the ground outside, just a few meters away. What if the rain washed away all the soil in his garden, and the next day when he went outdoors he would find them, unearthed and decomposing?

The scratching sound persisted, and Mort's mind conjured a horrible image of his wife and her lover's bodies, resurrected but not living, clawing at his wall, like a gruesome scene from a horror film. Their blank eyes rolling and their white, white skin mottled with dirt and dried blood, the ragged gashes of their partially severed necks full of mud and rotting flesh….

He shuddered and got up to close the curtains on his window, knowing that he was being ridiculous. But he knew he'd feel better knowing that nobody - or nothing - could look in at him. A thunderclap boomed out overhead and he jumped, a shock of adrenaline running through his body. He exhaled slowly, relief washing over him, and chuckled nervously at himself for scaring so easily.

Mort hated thinking of himself as a murderer, and despised Shooter for his frequent "check-ups"; to make sure he hadn't gone crazy, or simply confessed, Mort didn't know. And they certainly did not help him at all to forget about the grisly acts he had committed. He did try to forget, but forgetting something that haunted you every day of your life, in every way imaginable, proved harder than he'd initially thought. Every day, guilt and anguish whirled about in his head until he felt ill with self-loathing.

He stepped away from the window. The living room was almost completely obscured in darkness, aside from the weak light given off by the lamp on his shelf. He walked over to the lamp and turned it off, plunging himself into immediate blackness. After his eyes had grown accustomed to the gloom, he navigated carefully around the coffee table and flopped back onto his couch, trying to make his mind go blank. He took off his glasses and set them down beside his phone before curling up on the sofa. He longed for sleep, burying his face in a pillow as if it could shelter him from the world….

XXXX

As Alex trudged back down the hill and through the trees, it began to rain. Her hair and clothes were soon drenched, sticking to her body and proving a dreadful hindrance.

She felt terrible about intruding on Mr. Rainey, especially at this time of night. It had all been horribly embarrassing, first waking him up (she assumed he'd been sleeping when she'd knocked on his door, as per the state of his hair), not knowing the number for the tow truck service, and on top of that, interrupting him when he had company.

She bent her head into the wind and finally made it out onto the muddy road. She squinted her eyes and frowned. The road was bare as far as she could see in each direction. Her car was gone. I could have sworn I left it right here, she thought to herself in confusion. Had it been stolen? It had been locked, hadn't it?

Alex felt a rush of panic. What was she supposed to do now? Someone had stolen her car, and she was out here in the middle of nowhere…. At least her wallet and identification hadn't been in her car. She tried to recall what exactly had been in it; her backpack containing her picnic lunch and her favourite cap, the can of Raid that she'd forgotten on the passenger seat during her hike, a pair of sunglasses, and a spare tire in the trunk. No huge loss; luckily she'd put her house keys in her pocket before leaving her home that morning.

Then she remembered that the man who'd answered the phone at the tow truck service had told her he'd send someone right away, and she immediately felt somewhat better. When they arrived, she would explain the situation, and they could give her a lift back into town.

So she sat down at the edge of the road to wait, not caring about the dirt and mud. Her clothes were filthy enough as it was, it would make no difference. She waited for a lengthy stretch of time, during which she began to trace patterns in the mud to curb her boredom.

She checked her watch. For once, she was glad that her friend had bought her the geeky, waterproof watch with the little light-up mechanism. She'd worn it mostly to humor them at first, but it had grown on her over time, and she was now actually quite fond of it. The watch lit up and she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. It had been almost an hour and a half since she'd left Mr. Rainey's house. No one had come, and she had an awful feeling that no one was going to.

Alex turned her face towards the now darkened house on the hill. She knew she had no choice now. She got up stiffly, her limbs rigid and sore from sitting on the cold, wet ground, and miserably began to walk back up the incline, through the trees towards Mort Rainey's cabin.

A/N: This chapter was probably sort of boring, but I felt I had to explain some of Mort's feelings and stuff. Sorry. Happy reading =)