Page 3 of When the Night Comes Knocking

“It looks like it just happened,” she says, swallowing hard. She twists to eye a puddle of fresh blood, where the wispy clouds overhead reflect back in crimson hues.

Thomas stares at the eviscerated animal, squinting closer at its chest before assessing the entrails hanging out. “That’s weird,” he comments, looking around at the nearby road.

Jane takes a small step closer. “What is?”

He frowns down at the deer, and she swears she sees something like a shiver pass through his shoulders. “I think its heart is gone,” he says.

Jane gags, forcing her eyes to the sky. The vultures have multiplied, creating various circles over the treetops the farther the forest stretches. She tries to ignore that the swirling patterns of black seem to lead north up the mountain, exactly where she and her brother are headed.

A shiver reaches her own shoulders. “Can we leave, please? It doesn’t feel safe to be parked here like this.”

Thomas finally steps back from the deer and nods. They turn to leave, but Jane freezes when an icy chill starts at the top of her neck and traces its way down her spine. She turns and looks both ways down the empty curve of the road, then straight across into the line of spindly trees where the sun has begun its slow amber descent.

Thomas follows her gaze to the tree line across the road. “What is it?”

Her throat is bone dry as she lifts a wobbly finger. There on the forest floor, mixed in with the dirt and dead leaves, lies another deer.

“Jesus,” he mutters, shaking his head.

The baby is in a similar state as its mother, though its unblinking stare seems to fall directly on Jane. “What could have done this?” she asks. She is certain that when their father slices the Thanksgiving turkey tomorrow, this is all she will see.

Thomas scans the tree line once more, his eyes dragging along where the blood’s red shine catches against low-cutting beams of sunlight. “There are bears up here,” he says, shrugging. “These guys were probably just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

I know the feeling, Jane thinks while forcing her eyes away from the fawn’s dead ones. Her entire body feels cold, and not because of the fast-fading sun.

“Cassie’s calling,” says Thomas. He swipes the screen of his phone and brings it to his ear. “Hey, Cas. Yeah, we’re not too far out.” His eyes only briefly meet Jane’s before he slides into the passenger side of the car.

She can still feel the deer lying there as she gets into the driver’s seat, but Thomas’s agitated voice grabs her attention.

“She’s right here, Cas. Yes, I’m telling the truth. For the love of—” He turns on the speakerphone. “Say hi to her, please.”

Jane raises her eyebrows. “Hi, Cas.”

“Fine, fine,” their older sister says. “I just wanted to make sure you two were actually coming up together.” Then Cassie sighs, long and dramatic in a way that Jane has learned is like a gun going off at the start of a long-distance race.

“Things have been an absolute nightmare so far,” she says. “We got a flat tire coming down the driveway to this place because there’s this ridiculous pothole. You’ll have to be super careful driving in, because we need to borrow your spare, Jane.”

Thomas sighs deeply. “Jeez, that sounds rough, Cas—”

“So after the car situation, Dad lit up a cigar as soon as we got inside, and you know how Mom just despises the smell,” Cassie continues. “So naturally, Mom’s now half a bottle deep on the chardonnay, talking about how she would have been a flight attendant if she’d never had kids. I swear she’s told me this on three separate occasions now. Like, girl, just go be a flight attendant—”

Jane meets Thomas’s eyes as their sister rants, knowing one of them will have to cut her off eventually, though for now, it is at least a distraction from their togetherness and the bloody mess in the road.

“Also, Mom needs y’all to stop and grab some marshmallows for the sweet potato casserole on your way in. There was a little grocery store about fifteen minutes out from the cabin that will probably be your best bet—” Her words begin to muffle in and out slightly, and Thomas hangs his head back against the seat, gazing up at the car’s ceiling.

“Yeah, we’ll do that, Cas. Look, the reception isn’t great, so we better get going. We’ll see y’all soon,” he announces, with his finger hovering over the End Call button.

“Oh, that’s the other thing, there is hardly any reception out here. I’m literally standing on a chair in the closet, holding my phone up to the ceiling right now.”

“Uh-huh,” says Thomas, shaking his head as Jane almost grins. “We’ve really gotta go now, Cas. We’ll see you soon.”

“Don’t forget the marsh—”

Thomas ends the call before she can finish. “Let’s get the hell out of here,” he says before closing his eyes and turning his face toward the window.

Jane starts the car; she didn’t think it was possible to look forward to this even less, though the confirmation of no service at the cabin feels like the final nail in the trip’s proverbial coffin.

She carefully maneuvers her RAV back onto the main road and drives forward. Even after the twisted, delicate frames of the deer have long disappeared in the rearview mirror, the chill at the top of her neck remains.