Chapter Text
Gravel crunched under the soles of Neil’s ratty sneakers, the wet sound amplified by the silence of the woods. He had finally found the start of the overgrown hiking trail that the gas station employee had recommended for rock climbing- the end of the trail was home to a waterfall and apparently good medium sized faces to climb.
Though, this rain would make any sort of grip nonexistent, Neil thought.
Good thing he was not here to rock climb. The waterproof bag slung over his shoulder held enough food for two weeks, as well as pretty much any equipment Neil could possibly need- rope, a pot to cook in, and his hammock. The lucky thing about living off the land was you were virtually invisible to anyone who would be looking for you. No civilization to gossip or leak your location. No cameras, no phones, no quick roads to be ambushed on.
Though, he never stayed in one place too long, just out of habit.
Neil took careful steps over fallen branches, logs, and stones tumbled about on what used to be the path, now a mixture of gravel, sand, and coarse dirt. Weeds and tall grass grew from just about everywhere, and Neil swore he became more drenched by the raindrops collected on the grass than the actual drizzle that sprinkled down on his head. At least, that was how his clothes felt, his shorts completely soaked through while his shirt remained only halfway slick with condensation.
Hiking through the next five miles took only a few hours with minimal breaks, having wanted to make it to his sleeping spot before it got too dark to see. While he had a flashlight, he was sure it wouldn’t help much, especially with the way the clouds only grew darker and darker with the warning of a storm. Perhaps he should have stayed at a motel that night. It was about an hour too late for Neil to make that decision, though, so roughing it out was the only option.
It was approaching dusk by the time Neil thought he had made a wrong turn somewhere. The woods had begun to come to life, insects chirping and flying about, the rain drawing to a fine misting instead of the drizzle he had been walking through the past while.
The gas station guy had given him a pretty rough set of directions for the waterfall, and it should have been an easy straight shot to it, minus a couple of smaller areas that had hills and valleys and a couple of turns. He must have gone the wrong way there, he assumed.
Though- it sure would make it harder for anyone to find him if they came looking.
An unfamiliar noise jolted him from his thoughts, eyes darting around before landing on a sandy colored cat sitting on a rock only a few feet from him. Hazel eyes stared as blue eyes stared back, neither standing down, neither making the first move. Neil supposed he would be the bigger person. Considering he was the only person.
“What are you doing all the way out here?” Neil tilted his head a bit, never having run into a cat in any of the parks or trails he had been in. Most of the time, there were larger predators than cats. Perhaps the cat’s owners were nearby, or the cat had gotten lost recently. It was remarkably well groomed for a stray cat, so he doubted it had lived here long.
Of course, the cat didn’t answer him, as much as Neil wished it had just so he could be done with the situation as soon as possible. He would not want to be here when the owners returned. The less witnesses of him, the better if anyone came asking.
He didn’t want to leave the cat out in the rain with nothing, though. After a huff, he took off his backpack, rummaging through it until he found something he thought cats could eat- he had gotten some beef jerky from the gas station, only lightly salted.
“I know it’s not much but I don’t want you to starve out here. I’m sure you can go kill a bird or something.”
He tossed one of the larger chunks towards the cat, landing in the dirt a foot or so in front of the unimpressed cat. The cat, which only looked at the food before standing up and turning around, walking away into the tall grass. After a second, he realized the cat was missing one of its hind legs.
Neil couldn’t catch a break. Even a paraplegic cat hated him.
After a second of disbelief at the audacity of this cat, he could only shake his head, grabbing another piece from his bag to snack on. As he sat on a tree stump, he put what just happened out of his head and began to plan. If he could not find the waterfall before night fully fell, he just would have to set up his hammock in a way that would keep him dry, so probably under some sort of tree canopy or hilly cave.
He assumed he would have less than half an hour to figure it out, and once he stood, began to collect some small twigs and whatever could be a firestarter. No use in being cold and wet.
Another glance to where the cat had disappeared made him nearly do a double take. In the distance, between the trees, he could faintly make out a light source. What would be all the way out here?
Walking through the brush over puddles of mud, Neil picked up his pace until he was close enough to make out a desolate cabin, solar panels covering the roof, the porch light on. Besides the light, there was nothing that told Neil if it was inhabited, and no cars in the dirt driveway. No tire tracks, or footprints, either.
It would have to do for tonight, and he had broken into worse. The cabin’s exterior looked homey, bricks covered in ivy and moss, porch wrapping around the entire building. It was a single story, with what seemed like two or three rooms.
Neil walked around the edge of the clearing, between the trees, doing a full circle to scope out his surroundings. He did not want to be caught off guard if someone was still staying here. On the other side of the house from where he started was an overgrown garden, wooden planters almost completely covered with vines and leaves, terracotta pots broken by roots too large to be contained.
The sun was sinking fast by now, fireflies blinking at the edges of the clearing as they awoke for the night.
After grabbing a couple of veggies that seemed ripe enough, Neil made his way to the front of the house, climbing up the narrow steps into the entry, trying the doorknob. The door opened without any resistance, creaking open.
Neil kicked off his soaked shoes as he stepped into the cabin, the faint scent of old wood and dust comforting in its neutrality. It felt like no one had been here in months- maybe longer, but there was no mold, no thick layer of grime. Just time- the house left to sit and settle. The kind of place that had been forgotten. Abandoned.
Cobwebs collected in the corners of the walls, though it seemed as if most bugs kept out of the cabin. None of the windows were in bad shape, so he didn’t have to worry about keeping the rain out.
The floorboards creaked beneath his weight, and he winced at the sound. The rain ticking softly against the windows helped muffle it, but he moved slowly, stepping with intention, like a houseguest in a place that wasn’t supposed to have guests.
He quickly went through the rooms to confirm he was alone, minus a door he couldn’t get open, even with his lock picking kit. He would not bother with it, not wanting to leave any indication to the cabin’s owners that someone had been here.
After that, Neil tossed his bag onto the wooden bench by the door, shaking some of the moisture off his arms before unzipping it. The kitchen was just off the main room, separated by a low wooden counter and a half-wall. Surprisingly, the cabinets were not empty. A few dusty cans lined the top shelf, and he opened one, peering inside. Peas. Not a five course meal, but at least it wasn’t expired.
He grabbed one that simply read Chicken Breast in Water in plain block lettering, opening that one as well. There was a tiny camping-style stove hooked to a rusted propane tank just under the counter. He tested the knob, flinching when a burst of flame caught after only a second of clicking. Still good.
After rinsing out a pot with some bottled water from his pack, he dumped the contents of the can into it, a thin gelatinous mass slipping out with a wet plop. He stabbed it apart with a fork and stirred as it warmed, mixing in a few of the peas. Not a feast, but it beat cold jerky.
As the food started to simmer, he peeled off his wet shirt, draping it across the back of a wooden chair to dry, and rummaged for a dry one from his pack. The warmth of the small flame began to heat the room slightly, or maybe it was the fact that he had stopped moving, finally grounded for the first time in what felt like days.
Then- soft padding.
The faint sound behind him made Neil freeze, one hand clutching the dry shirt. He turned his head slowly, expecting wind through the trees or the groan of settling beams.
Instead, there it was. The same sandy-colored cat, now comfortably seated just past the threshold of the kitchen. Hazel eyes flicked to the stove, then back to Neil. One hind leg missing, its tail swayed slowly, expectantly.
“You again?” Neil said, voice quiet.
The cat didn’t move.
“How’d you even get in?” He glanced toward the door, still shut. No windows open, no obvious cracks. “You followed me.”
It didn’t feel accusatory, more like stating the facts. The cat blinked.
Neil sighed, pulled on the shirt, and turned back to the stove. He poked at the chicken one more time, then poured it all out into a shallow bowl he found in one of the cabinets. He set the bowl down on the floor, careful to leave a few pieces for himself, and backed up.
The cat did not rush. It padded over silently, inspected the offering, and after a long pause, began to eat.
Neil watched, arms crossed loosely over his chest. He wasn’t sure if he felt accomplished or stupid.
“Well. Guess we’re roommates now.”
The cat paused mid-bite and looked up at him, almost knowingly.
Then, it went back to eating.
Neil chuckled, the first time he had in days. He grabbed his portion of the food, slid into a chair, and ate with the cat a few feet away, each chewing in silence. The cabin settled around them like a blanket. No cell towers. No people. No questions. Just two creatures who didn’t want to be seen.
“Don’t expect this every night,” Neil said between bites.
The cat, of course, said nothing.
Later, the warmth from dinner lingered in Neil’s stomach as he moved around the main room, dimly lit by the flickering fire in the small wood-burning stove tucked into the corner. He had fed the flames earlier with some dry logs stacked neatly beside it- someone had lived here intentionally, and recently enough to keep it stocked, though the layers of dust on everything else suggested they had not used the fire in a while.
He found a crocheted quilt in the cabinet beneath the window. It smelled faintly of cedar and mildew, but it was dry and whole, which was more than he could ask for. The couch- if it could still be called that- was old and sagging in the middle, the cushions threadbare and torn from years of use. One arm was frayed so badly it looked like someone had been picking at it for comfort. Neil kicked off his shoes and tossed his damp socks in front of the wood-fire stove, letting the fire dry them out overnight.
He sat first, then slowly let himself lie down, adjusting until the grooves in the couch gave in and accepted him. He tucked the blanket around himself, sighing as the fire’s heat began to soak into his bones. His body ached, and not just from the hike, but from the long weeks of moving, hiding, watching his back. Always waiting for the wrong step to catch up with him.
Across from him, the cat leapt silently onto an old upholstered armchair, one of those heavy ones that belonged in a grandparent’s sitting room. It turned a few circles, carefully positioning itself on the cushion, then folded its body into a compact spiral, tail curled over where the missing leg should be. Its hazel eyes stayed open, glinting in the firelight, watching Neil with a quiet, unreadable expression.
Neil stared back, resting his head against the arm of the couch.
“You’ve got nowhere to be either, huh?”
The cat’s ears twitched, but it did not move. Just watched him.
The fire popped softly in the stove. Outside, rain drizzled against the cabin roof in a slow, sleepy rhythm. It was the first time Neil could remember being warm and dry in days.
He let his gaze drift to the ceiling. He had a chance to disappear. If the place had solar power, had some canned food, had a dry roof… it was more than he’d had in months. Maybe he could stay for a while. Just long enough to breathe. Long enough to stop running and start planning.
“I’ll need to check the area tomorrow,” he murmured. “Figure out what’s nearby. Can’t let my father catch up to me again.”
The cat blinked slowly at him, unbothered with his rambling.
Neil shifted under the quilt, his body finally beginning to soften from hours of walking. The pull of exhaustion was deeper than physical- he felt it deep in his chest, like a tightness that only now had started to ease.
“You better be a good lookout,” he said, voice trailing as his eyes grew heavier.
“I’ll feed you again if you earn your keep.” He’d feed it regardless.
A soft gust of wind rattled one of the windows, but the fire held steady. The cat didn’t move, still curled in its chair, still watching. Still there.
Neil closed his eyes.
Tomorrow would come. But tonight, he would rest.