Zebras in the Woods

Shelly shifted deeper into her pumpkin colored, lumpy couch. Trying to find a comfortable position as the fire crackled loudly in the modest cabin. Her cabin, she thought, smiling to herself. Admittedly, it was a bit early in October to have a roaring fire, but having invested her life savings into a semi-derelict cabin she spent the summer renovating, it was time to enjoy the fruits of her labor. She took a healthy sip of her red wine. A bottle she picked up in town about 20 miles away from the local vineyard, or what would be considered local in a town as sprawling as this where there were more trees than people that made up the population.

Forrest Heights, where Shelly was the newest denizen, was a quiet town. She had yet to see another house, let alone another neighbor. She pulled an unpolished hand through her flat brown hair and sighed. This is what she needed. After spending years of her life travelling from place to place, she earned some peace and quiet. She welcomed the isolation. She didn’t want to think. She just wanted to be still. She wanted to let her muscles uncoil from decades of stress and anxiety. For the first time she had a reprieve where she did now have to think about her next steps.

She looked at her hand as she picked off the strands of lank hair that pulled away, rough from the renovation and life in general. She peered around her cabin some more. Admiring the open layout of the living room from left to right, seeing into her kitchen where her shepherd's pie was cooling, a bookcase that was actually a swiveling door that led to a storage room - admittedly an indulgence. But this was her dream to do with what she wanted and she always wanted a cache somewhere if she survived adulthood long enough to get to where she was today. To the righthand corner of the room was the door to her bathroom with indoor plumbing. Definitely a splurge, a costly one at that, for the convenience of not having to dig out a shit hole. If she never had to dig another hole in her life it would be too soon. She remembered she needed to set a reminder to schedule a septic guy to come by… she stopped that thought in her tracks. Not tonight. She was determined to relax.

She gazed up to the loft of the cabin where her bedroom was and thought how nice it would be to have lavender in her pillow case for a restful sleep. She peeled herself off the couch and slipped on her wool lined shoes before trudging outside. She took a moment to let her eyes adjust to the darkness. Thousands of stars winked back at her. The moon hid behind clouds but not enough to conceal the path to her root cellar. She took a few steps before stopping, cocking her head to listen for any movement. The night air was still. She was still trying to get her bearings in her new home. Not knowing if the stillness was normal or abnormal. Should there be animals or bugs humming about? Or was it too cold? It was not cold enough to grab a heavy jacket and she felt fine in her leggings and thick wool sweater. She shoved her hands into her deep sweater pockets and blew out a breath, but it was too dark to see if the air from her lungs would form a cloud. The wind picked up then, bleeding sound back into the trees and moving the clouds to cover the moon.

Winding down the side of her cabin, she made it to the door of the cellar and pushed it open, the hinges of the door creaking. Not bothering to turn on a light, she moved through the darkness, past the different roots and other food storage, her footsteps echoing as she padded across the cool concrete floor. She pulled a knife from her pocket to cut some lavender that was hanging.She deftly collapsed the blade whilst bringing the sprigs to her nose, closing her eyes to inhale. That's when she felt the back of her neck tingle. She fought the compulsion to freeze, rather sinking low and moving into a shadow in her cellar.

Heartbeats passed as Shelly waited. Box breathing she let them slow as she waited in the darkness. Letting her senses expand out as she tried to discern the feeling. She could wait out anything and if something was amiss, she was the one with the patience to move last. Once her knees started to protest, she slowly allowed herself to rise, not quite satisfied that whatever set her off was truly gone, but there was no evidence to suggest there was a threat. She remembered that old saying, when you hear hoofbeats, think horses not zebras. She wasn’t in the land of zebras. She needs to adjust to the new pasture of this stage of her life. Should she get a horse? Shaking her head clear she rose to the full 5’8 of her height. She put her hands above her head and let her limbs stretch out, chastening herself before moving towards the door.

The clouds must have been moving faster than she noticed. A soft rain now coated the trees and misted the air. She lifted her face up to the sky, she breathed in the damp air, smelling the proverbial roses, which in this case was just a lot of trees. And something else? Was she smelling something that wasn't there before? The drizzle must be disturbing the earth. “Horses,” she thought to herself but she still kept her footfalls silent as she made her way back into her cabin.

Toeing her shoes off at the entry way, she strode across the hardwood floor to the ladder that led to her lofted bedroom. She crouched down to make it over to the bedroom space. Straightening she padded over to the left side of her bed.She slipped her hand in her pocket, past the knife to retrieve the lavender. She grabbed up her pillow, and roughly shoved the herb into her pillow case before plopping the pillow back into her bed. All down bedding her duvet looked like a pile of billowing marshmallows.

That is when she heard a knock.

It wasn’t a soft rapping at her chamber door and there was no Poe bird on her mantle. This was a clear cut knock. Three swift bangs that rang out, reverberating loudly in her space. Shelly took a deep breath. Obviously she was not expecting company. “We are still in horse territory,” she thought to herself. Someone could be lost or broken down driving through. But she didn’t like someone banging at her door. Waiting a beat she moved back against her bedroom wall to sneak a peak out her window. Yes, the window was not facing the front of the house but she wanted some more information. Peering out the back windows - nothing but trees. She made her way to the stairs and slithered down the steps, her socked feet muffling any sounds she could make.

Back pressed against the wall she moved to the window to peer out. There was a figure standing there. Shelly could have sworn the figure's head twitched towards the slight curtain move but it was such a small move, she could have imagined it. It was a girl standing in front of the door. Or more accurately a young woman in her early twenties. Shifting her weight on one leg, arms wrapped around her chest. Average height and build, non-descript clothing.

“What do you want?” Shelly called out, moving the curtain an inch further.

The girl turned her body towards the window, cocking her head to the side she said, “I can’t really hear you! Can you come to the door? I think I’m lost. I’m trying to find someone. Can I come in for some directions?” The sentences came out in quick succession, pouring out of the girl. Was this girl a horse or a zebra? “No stop it!” Shelly thought sternly to herself. She left her old life behind. This girl had to be a horse, not a zebra. Shelly came to Forrest Heights to be normal. So Shelly decided to do the normal thing, a normal person would do, and open the door.

“BRR thank you!” The girl said as she stepped in as soon as Shelly cracked open the door. How odd it was for her to barge in, society niceties not giving a chance for Shelly to bar her from entering. The girl took two long strides, critically taking stock of the cabin. If Shelly didn't know any better, it was as if she were taking inventory of her surroundings. Shelly studied the girl whilst the girl looked around. Five-six, dirty blond hair under a beanie, sturdy jeans, hiking boots, purple puffer jacket. After a beat, the girl smiled at Shelly, slightly tanned skin illuminated by the light of the fireplace.

“How can I help you?” Shelly asked the girl.

“I am actually looking for someone and must have got turned around on the roads. Are you alone?” The girl asked.

Shelly took a beat before answering. “Why don’t you let me know where you are trying to get to and I can try to point you in the right direction.”

“Well,” The girl stretched the word out, “I am looking for Forrest Heights.”

“You found it!” Shelly said, spreading her arms. “Now, who are you looking for?”

“What smells so good?” The girl pivoted towards the kitchen, not fully letting Shelly out of her sight.”

“Shepards Pie.”

“Wow, there are not a lot of grocery stores around here. You must have hunted the meat out here. Are you good with a gun?”

This girl was entering zebra territory. She was too still, and the fact this girl was hedging her questions didn’t escape Shelly.

“My specialty is the knife. Some could say that is my weapon of choice, or what I am most known for.” Shelly let the bait dangle. If this girl was a spook from the organization or a mercenary, maybe she would drop whatever game she was playing.

“Wood worker?” The girl said brightly.

“Something like that.”

The girl smiled. “Did you pick that up somewhere cool? Middle east? Jesus was a carpenter.”

“I never said I spent time in the middle east.” Shelly eyed the girl who nodded at the bookshelf. Shelly cursed herself as she spotted what the girl was looking at. No personal effects. But Shelly hadn’t had time to put it in the library cache. Tucked between Lauren Wilkinson’s “American Spy” and “The Expats” by Chris Pavone stood a wood carved statuette of an Arabian woman.

“That thing came with the cabin. Haven’t had time to clear out the cabin fully.” Shelly said, tilting her head to mirror the girl.

The girl’s eyes flicked to Shelly’s hand that twitched a fraction towards her pocket where her knife lay hidden. The move could have been missed if you weren’t watching for it. Shelly was watching for it.

“How sloppy of you.” The girl whispered.

“Well excuse the fuck out of me!” Shelly said, dropping all pretense of civility. “Are you going to tell me what the fuck you want? Otherwise kindly get the fuck out of my house!”

The wood in the fireplace crackled loudly, the glow of the embers reflecting in her eyes and teeth as her smile widened. The girl in the purple puffer deftly moved towards the door. Her back to Shelly as she almost skipped passed her. Hand on the knob, she started to say, “There was one thing…”

Shelly did not miss the flash of the muzzle as the girl swung back to face her. The sentence caught forever in her throat as Shelly’s knife plunged under the occipital bone on the left side of the girl’s face. Youth clouded judgment. It is one thing to confirm the target, it's a whole other thing entirely to taunt the target, as if Shelly did not have years of experience under her belt. It must have been a trial run, a seemingly easy target - a woman alone in the woods. Too bad for her she fucked up on the easy part.

“Fucking zebras!” Shelly bellowed as the mass in the puffer jacket crumbled to the floor. Taking a calming breath, Shelly marched to her bookcase, opening the cache. She pulled on the string to the lightbulb that illuminated the small storage space, knives and guns glinting in the light. She bent down and turned on the old radio. She paused before pressing the PTT button. She turned off the radio and turned off the light before closing the cache back up.

She stood surveying the body before downing the rest of her wine, resolving to drag the body to the cellar tonight to properly dispose of tomorrow. These were her golden years. She was done with spy games, war games, or any other type of shit the wolves want to throw at her. She was officially retired. She would handle this herself and anything else that comes up. “Next time someone knocks on my door, I will be ready,” Shelly said aloud, as she grabbed the ankles of the body and began to drag the body into the night and towards the cellar.