Awake in the Woods

Victoria awoke abruptly, startled. Her heart was racing and her surroundings seemed eerily unfamiliar. Of course, because they were. It was one of those experiences that people find so unbelievable in the movies—when a character bolts straight out of a deep sleep, eyes wide open, not a trace of slumber left to be found. Why had she woken up? 
Andrew, her husband, was still softly snoring beside her. Granted, he was usually a heavy sleeper but so was she. Something had disturbed her. She looked around. A shadow of their Doberman, Abbott, stood at the sliding glass doors—fur prickled, on-guard, a low growl escaping his powerful jaw; a jaw that could kill at a single, swift command.
Abbott technically belonged to Andrew, but in a marriage, things are meant to be shared. Even though she’d always been a small dog kind of person, she accepted Abbott as her own. And she’d never been more grateful for him than in this moment.
They were at a rented cottage, deep in the woods. It was the week of Christmas and they were devastatingly alone. The roads were snowed in and most neighbors had returned back to their homes in the city. Andrew, who claimed not to fear anything, insisted they stay. She’d had a bad feeling about being so isolated, but she trusted him and let herself be convinced.
“Wouldn't it be nice to get away for awhile? I mean, really get away? This is our chance. You work so hard, babe. Let’s relax, just you and me,” he’d said. He’d meant it.
Truthfully, she would have rather been tucked away in their apartment overlooking Central Park where nothing could reach them—in a good way. Is there anything more beautiful than New York in the winter? Right now, she couldn’t think of a single thing. Except maybe uninterrupted sleep.
She tensed as Abbott growled harder, more persistently. Still, Andrew didn’t stir. He could sleep through the end of the world.
“What’re you growling at, buddy?” she whispered. She carefully, hesitantly, crawled out of bed and went to crouch beside the dog, both of them peering out into the dense forest of blackness. It was difficult to see through the thick crop of trees. She squinted against the inky-black. Not even the moon was brave enough to lend its shimmer to this part of the property. 
Was there something out there? Or worse, someone?
Abbott’s suspicious, protective rumble continued unabated, his eyes steadily fixed on the distance. Then she saw it: a small flash of light, green, then gone. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart scurried towards the worst case scenario. Was her mind playing tricks on her? 
Flash.
There it was again. Abbott stepped closer to the door as if he would be able to move right through it. His nose left a smudge on the glass. She thought about letting him out but she was afraid to open it. The lock was the last bit of security she felt against whatever was out there. But what was out there? The light flashed again and she was sure that it hadn’t been her imagination. Abbott was sure, too.
Her mind dove to its deepest depths. 
It was a serial killer. Or maybe a thief. A rapist? Whoever it was, they were trying to draw her out of the comfort and safety of her bed, out into the night, and into their control. She had a sick feeling in her gut. She made a mental note to stop listening to true crime podcasts before she became one.
Flash.
There was barely any cell service out here. Even if she did get through to someone, it would take them a hell of a long time to arrive. They’d spent all day admiring the fluffy white flakes of snow that continued to fall. Now she cursed it. There was far too much buildup to hastily dig the car out and escape. Plus, with the falling temperature, it had surely all turned to ice. It would be impossible. They’d die trying to save their own lives.
All they’d wanted was a calm Christmas getaway. Just them and their dog with lots of delicious food, a wet bar, and the presents they’d both sworn they weren’t going to give each other but who can resist at this time of year? There wasn’t room in their plans for a surprise murder spree. She needed to wake up her husband. 
She tiptoed to Andrew’s side of the bed. Abbott was still growling, his fierce gaze unwavering. 
“Andrew? Baby?” She gently rocked his shoulder, interrupting his snore. “Wake up. I need you.”
His eyes slowly opened, one at a time, squinting at her with sleepy annoyance. 
“Andrew, somebody’s out there.” She turned to look over her shoulder, then back at her husband. Her heart thumped. “Abbott won’t move from the door and I keep seeing this bright green—”
Flash.
“Huh?” he yawned, confused.
“Didn’t you see that?”
“See what?”
“Baby, I’m really scared that someone is out there. I think someone’s watching the house.”
She could tell Andrew wasn’t impressed at having been woken up at three in the morning to investigate a potential murderer and she (almost) felt bad. But they’d feel worse not knowing what was out there. Or worse yet, if he—or they—managed to get to them first.
Andrew begrudgingly rolled out of bed. “Abbott, come on, bud,” he said to the dog as he pulled on his pajama pants and a sweatshirt. “Let’s go see what’s up out there.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“No, Vic. You stay here. Lock the door and don’t move,” he instructed her. “Let me find out what’s going on.” 
He had her best interests at heart, but she was terrified to be left alone. 
What if this was the plan all along? To get her by herself, vulnerable. She was helpless in this bedroom. At home, she kept a can of pepper spray tucked underneath her side of the bed. Just to be safe. They lived in Manhattan after all. But here, in this cottage that wasn’t her own, she had nothing. Now she didn’t even have the security of her husband and dog.
She couldn’t stay here, locked in the bedroom, with nothing but glass between her and whatever was creeping through the woods. What if something happened to Andrew outside? True, Abbott was trained to attack if his master was in danger, but would it be enough? What if the person had a gun and… no. She needed to be prepared. 
The decision was made. Haltingly, she crossed over the creaking hardwood floor. Her heartbeat, thumping harder than buffalo stampede, thundered in her ears. She needed to concentrate. She grabbed a hold of the door handle, unlocked it, and gradually turned the knob. The house was silent except for her own pulse. It took her eyes a second to adjust to the blackness of the hallway. She took a left and made her way towards the cavernous kitchen. 
Sky-high windows and an exposed, single-level floor plan gave her no protection at all. What had seemed so enticing when they had been browsing online for winter rentals now seemed to mock her with its vast openness. Where could she hide? She couldn’t. 
Luckily, she knew exactly where the big knives were kept. Their metal block on the counter was easy to find with the faint glow of the moon streaming inside. No way was she going to turn on a light and illuminate herself further. Give herself away. She knew better than that. (Thanks, Crime Junkie.)
Once she had the weapon in hand, she made her way to the front door. It was slightly ajar from when Andrew and Abbott had gone out into the night in search of whatever had disturbed them. It was bright out, at this side of the house, the snow reflecting the starry sky. She scanned the winding driveway as it looped past the house and back into the forest. It was about a seven minute walk to reach the main road. She knew from earlier in the day when she’d walked the dog.
“Andrew?” she softly called, her breath catching in the air. No response. Her heart hammered. She shivered. “Baby? Where are you?” A little louder this time. She waited, silent, on the front porch. She was ready with her knife in hand. Not that she’d ever had to use one in self defense previously. But she’d seen enough horror movies to feel somewhat comfortable holding it now for protection. At least as comfortable as Carmen Electra in Scary Movie. Or was that a banana? Regardless, she knew she could run if she had to.
It seemed like an eternity had passed before she heard the crunch of Andrew’s boots coming around the side of the house, Abbott in tow. 
“Didn’t see anything,” he told her as he got nearer. 
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, Abbott sniffed around a bit but he stopped growling. We walked around the yard, close to the forest, even looked over the bank down towards the lake. Nothing.”
They went back inside. 
“Victoria, are you holding a knife?”
“I wanted protection.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I think we should go back to bed. There’s nothing out there. Come on, it’s late.” 
Andrew took the knife and laid it down on the kitchen counter before placing his hand on the small of her back, in an attempt to comfort her and lead her back to bed. Still, she felt a strange sense of unease. What had she seen? What was Abbott so worked up about? If there was nothing out there, surely they both wouldn’t have woken up. Could it have been something as simple as an animal meandering past? But then what was the flash of green light?
“Andrew, I know there was something out there in the woods. Abbott wouldn’t have been so alert if it was nothing. It doesn’t make sense.”
“I don’t know what to tell you babe, maybe it was a raccoon.”
“But there was this—”
Flash.
That’s when they saw it. Tucked up high on the shelf across from their bed, where Andrew had left it, reflecting into the window each time it flashed its little green light. Giving the illusion that it was on the outside looking in, when in reality it was in their bedroom the whole time. Harmless, inanimate, innocently taunting her and the eager dog. They looked at each other and then back at the shelf. It was almost laughable. The thing meant to track heart rates had unintentionally spiked theirs. 
The fucking Fitbit.

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