Greykin Mountain

| 42 | Carlotta

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Jackson was beginning to hate hills and mountains. He huffed and sighed, dragging his shins through the snow as he headed up the slope's path. When his right ankle started stinging again, he lifted his trouser leg, but to his relief, the wound hadn't reopened and was almost completely healed, too.

          Once he reached the top of the slope, he paused and searched the icy plateau for the hut Mrs Godie had mentioned.

          It was quiet. Not even the wind howled up here. The only sound came from the occasional pile of snow slipping from the branches of surrounding trees.

          A cold shiver ran down Jackson's spine as he started making his way forward. But something minacious clung to the still, silent air. That feeling he was being watched prodded at his back, but when he looked over his shoulder, there was nothing but miles of mountains and endless white.

          He hurried past a huddle of trees and set his eyes on the small hut on the side of the mountain. The lights were on inside, smoke was pouring from the chimney, and the smell of cooking meat grew stronger the closer he got. It made Jackson's stomach rumble; that strawberry slice evidently hadn't sufficed as breakfast.

          Something shuffled through the trees.

          Jackson picked up his pace, looking behind him again. There was nothing there, but he knew what lurked in the woods and he wasn't going to hang around and give his potential stalker the chance to pounce.

          With a quiet huff, he reached the hut and knocked on the door.

          He waited.

          A cold breeze raced past him, carrying the scent of something sweet upon it. He turned to face the trees, staring into them once again. His eyes searched for any sign he wasn't alone, but there was only snow, ice, and trees ahead of him.

          The hut's door clicked.

          "What do you want?" came a woman's voice.

          Jackson looked at the door; she'd pulled open a small flap to glare at him from inside. All he could see were her bright-green eyes and freckled, dark skin.

          "Uh...I'm looking into the disappearances in town, and—"

          "How many goddamn times do I have to—"

          "No, no," he interjected, shaking his head, "I'm not here to point fingers. You're Caeleste, right? I figured you could help me out."

          She scowled skeptically. "What does me being Caeleste have to do with it?"

          "Well, no one seems to know what killed those guys and took the rest. I just wondered if you had any insight."

          The woman eyed him up and down as best she could from behind the door. Then, she scowled. "I haven't seen you around town. Who are you?"

          "Jackson. I'm looking for someone—well, a few someones who came out here and went missing. I think there's a connection with the disappearances that have happened here."

          She looked him up and down once more. "And tell me why you think I can help you again...."

          "Well...I figured, since you're Caeleste, you'd know a lot more about other Caeleste than anyone else in that town."