Page 112 of Ravaged Devotion

After a while, they came to the end of the hall and stopped in front of a final door. Ryker reached out without hesitation, finding it unlocked. When he opened it, it revealed a stairwell heading up. At the very top, a faint beam of light could be seen rimmed around what appeared to be an exit.

“Wait here,” he instructed Rue, then slowly made his way up the stairs, head tilted as he listened. At the top, he pressed his ear to the wood, then nodded back once to signal that it seemed safe.

Sunlight filtered in when he opened it, momentarily blinding Rue and Bowie. Rue blinked and held up an arm, and when he lowered it a moment later, Ryker was completely out of sight. Despite the order, he found himself taking the steps two at a time, worry getting the better of him.

A relieved sigh passed his lips the second he came to the top landing and found Ryker standing ten or so feet away.

“This is the fishing cabin,” Ryker said, keeping his voice low. He was staring at a dark green velvet couch set off to the side, or more specifically, at the hunting jacket resting over the backing. “That belongs to my father.”

Now that it’d been brought to his attention, Rue recognized it. This must be where he and the other two board members had gone the morning the fog first rolled in.

The cabin was small, square shaped, with four blank walls, and a single attached room that had nothing but a toilet and a sink in it. It was far more rustic than Rue ever would have suspected Rhys could handle, but then, he obviously never gave the always polished CEO of Hart Holding enough credit.

There was a window on every side, two flanking the one with the door leading out into the forest. From the one closest to him, Rue could spot the lake. There were chairs set up around it, and a dock off to the side, but he didn’t see anyone out there.

“The fog has cleared some,” Ryker mentioned, moving to the exit. Floorboards creaked beneath his boots, but he didn’t flinch at the sounds he was making, seemingly confident in the blaster he still clutched in his right hand. “It probably only comes up to the knees now.”

“Wait—” Rue cursed when the Black Hart didn’t listen, watching him pull open the door and step out into the wilderness.

He followed quickly, not liking Ryker out of his sight, and caught up just in time to see the other man cross the wide porch and come to a pause at the edge, just before a set of three steps led onto a dirt path that wound its way to the water.

Rue leaned to the side, trying to see what had given him pause, and inhaled sharply when his eyes landed on the body.

Izan Augustine was propped against the side of the railing, missing an arm and with teeth marks torn through his throat. He was no longer bleeding, and the color had turned muddy. Flies zipped around, the incessant buzzing somehow making the whole situation worse.

“He’s been dead a while,” Ryker came to the same conclusion as Rue. His eyes scanned their surroundings, taking in the trees and the clear path to the lake. There were four chairs set out, but one of them had been toppled over. It was the only hint that there’d possibly been a struggle.

Ryker made his way down the steps, then paused a second time. The fog drifted around his calves and skated up to his knees, but he’d been right in his assumption that it was clearing, and fast. They couldn’t make out the actual forest floor to search for other clues, but if they waited another ten minutes, they might be able to.

Not that Rue planned on them sticking around for that long. He didn’t like being out in the open like this, even with the gun.

“How many bullets are left?” he asked the Black Hart, recalling that Ellery had commented on saving ammunition at some point this weekend. It’d completely slipped his mind, but considering how often the weapon had been fired, they had to be close to the end of supply. “Let’s go back.”

Ryker didn’t answer.

“Ryk, there’s nothing here.” They weren’t going to find anything. The cabin was a decent way’s away from the main lodge too, which meant they’d traveled further underground than either of them must have thought.

“There’s nothing inside,” Bowie called to them, appearing in the doorway. He must have been searching.

A breeze blew past, kicking up tendrils of fog and sending leaves clinking like rain on a tin roof. It could have been pleasant after being couped up indoors the past few days, but it brought a chill with it that had Rue shivering.

Ryker’s gaze dropped to his feet, and even though his back was to him, Rue noticed the tense set of his shoulders and how his entire body went still.

Something in the trees to the right moved, branches displaced loudly.

“Go back!” Ryker spun on his heels and raced back up the steps just as a roar rumbled. He shoved Rue into the cabin and slammed the door shut.

Rue glanced at the window and caught sight of a bear, this one without antlers, bounding up to the cabin. The creature would look normal, if not for the fact its entire face was missing.

One of the altered specimens.

He let Ryker shove him down the stairwell, Bowie yet again taking up the rear.

They ran, not stopping even once they were back underground and engulfed by darkness. Ryker merely tapped his flashlight on, grabbed onto Rue’s wrist, and sprinted straight ahead.

It should have been safe as soon as they’d come back indoors, but they hadn’t been running for long before the unmistakable sounds of something big barreling after them echoed at their backs.

The creature had followed them into the tunnels, gaining speed, its powerful steps mixed with the sounds of its body scraping against the walls on either side of its large form growing louder and louder with each passing heartbeat.