The Cabin in the Woods

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  • Published: 13 May 2017
  • Updated: 7 Jun 2017
  • Status: Complete
Privington, Ashville not only holds the most interesting records of criminals, but it also is the home to the three young detectives; Marty, Wesley, and Jackie. After closing down yet another stolen goods operation, the trio is called upon to take on another task. However, this time it's different, and later on known to be extremely dangerous.

Chief Blanton, of the Privington Police Department, has given the young sleuths the task of finding his son, who has disappeared. Of course they accept, not knowing exactly what they were getting themselves into. When Jackie gets kidnapped, will the trio decide to back off or will they fight on? Will they find the chief's son, or will they fail?

Read on to dive deeper into this mystery.

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14. Chapter 14 - (Jackie's P.O.V)

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I finished the last of my breakfast and put my dishes into the sink, thanking Marty for the third time this morning. After what happened to me last night I had been receiving some special treatment. It's not as if I ended up in the hospital or anything. Not that I was complaining, but so far Marty has changed my bandage, made my bed, and made me breakfast. He refused to let me do anything that had even the slightest chance of me getting hurt. He was definitely overreacting. I can handle myself, and I told him so. Nonetheless, he wouldn't give in.

 

Wesley hasn't said much this morning, though. I suppose he was just interested in what we might find at the murder scene. Honestly, I didn't think we'd find anything. The murderer would have obviously taken the body with him. Or hidden it somewhere. However, that could be wrong too. Marty had notified the authorities when I went to sleep, and just this morning I was told that nothing had been found. Maybe the person wanted me to look like I was dreaming something up? Like I was crazy so no one would believe me? I don't know, but I would like to find that out.

 

"Jackie!" Wesley called from the door. He already had his shoes on, ready to go.

 

"One minute! Gotta grab a sweater!" I called back as I made my way up the stairs. The boards groaned under my weight, protesting all the way up. I paused at the top of the stair, allowing the slight pain from my side subside. I really should rest like the nurse and Marty had urged me to do, but I just couldn't. I wanted to know what was going on just as much as Marty and Wesley did. I wasn't going to miss this. Besides, it wasn't that bad. It hasn't been getting worse, only better.

 

I hurried into my room and grabbed a sweater that hung behind my door. I put it on and made my way downstairs. I slipped my shoes on and Marty did the same, and then we were off. I lead them to the place I had seen it all happen, and looked around, feeling uneasy. I went through everything I did last night—hiding behind the trashcan, watching, and then leaving.

 

"So, did you see the shooter?" Wesley inquired, looking around the street as if searching for something he knew was there. "I told you before. It was too dark, and after I saw that man die I booked it. All I caught was some damage to the assumed shooter’s clothing," I responded.

 

"Do you know where the guy was standing? Where he was hiding?"

 

"I think it was behind the bushes. I heard some noise from behind there, and that's when I moved to hide." Wesley stood still, but turned his head to look at the greenery that filled the one side of the street.

 

"Hey, guys," Marty said. "I think someone was here. Look." He pointed to a faint line of red that stretched out across the street. Blood. "The one who died must have been dragged away. If I'm correct about that, then..." His head turned, following the line that disappeared once it reached the bushes. I followed behind as Marty and Wesley made towards the end of the trail of dark and dry blood.

 

We all stood and stared, and then Marty pulled the leafy branches apart, revealing a pathway in what looked like a forest. Wesley moved forward, pressing past Marty. Marty and I followed close behind him.

 

"A secret pathway..." Wesley murmured. "Clever."

 

"What do you think we'll find?" I wanted to know. "Do you think something is down there?"

 

"I don't know, but I'm willing to find out," Wesley remarked, continuing on down the dusty leaf covered path.

 

After a bit of walking we neared what seemed to be a small cabin, like the ones you would stay in at camps. When we saw someone working, we moved so we were out of sight. The man was chopping wood, maybe for a fire. When he had enough pieces, he hugged them to his chest and walked to the back of the house, where I heard a door open then slam shut. We listened for a while longer, waiting, waiting for something to happen. And then, something did. I didn't know if Marty and Wesley heard it too, but it sounded as though someone were whimpering. I turned my head left, then right, and I saw him.

 

"Frank!" I whispered hastily, pointing him out.

 

From the vague image that was in my head, I could be certain it was him. But at the same time it wasn't. His face was almost consumed fully with bruises, and blood dripped from small cuts. The plaid shirt he had worn was torn at the sleeve and his hair was askew. Two men—one with a gun—were behind Frank, moving him forward, not kindly. There was a slight limp to Frank's walk, and once he actually fell. They must have beaten him well, he could barely stand.

 

"Guys, we have to help him!" I said urgently. "The poor guy, just look at the state of him!"

 

I saw Frank and the two others disappear behind the house.

 

"We need to figure out some way to get inside without being caught first," Marty explained. "How do we do that?"

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