The Family Cabin

The Family Cabin A gripping psychological thriller with a shocking twist James Caine Copyright © 2023 James Caine All rights reservedThe characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.ISBN-13: 9781234567890ISBN-10: 1477123456Cover design by: Deranged Doctor Design Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309Printed in the United States of America Contents Title Page Copyright Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Epilogue The In-Laws Chapter 1 Amber My head throbbed with pain. I slowly looked around the room, seeing double. A light above me burned my eyes while I tried to make sense of where I was. The room had cement walls with a matching floor. I knew I was in a basement but couldn't remember how I got there. I attempted to lift my hands to rub my forehead but felt strong resistance. My hands were handcuffed behind my back. I began to realize my situation. I leaned forward and nearly fell off the metal chair. The pain in my head was immense, and I winced. I saw no windows, only a wooden door. A large metal table was against one wall. The room was bare, except for me, the table and the chair. I let out a sigh of relief when I saw my feet were not tied. I stood up immediately and walked towards the door, but stopped a few feet from it. I looked behind me and found a chain connected to the handcuffs kept me from moving further. I wiggled my hands and watched the chain move. It was connected to a metal hook cemented into the back wall. A tear formed in my eye as I realized with fear that I had been taken. "Help!" I cried. "Please! Someone help me!" I took in a deep breath, trying to calm myself and collect my thoughts. What happened to me? Why couldn't I remember? I attempted to retrace my steps before waking up in this basement, the pain in my head making it more difficult. I was studying late in the university campus library. I had a midterm exam the next day and wanted to do a cram session. Criminal law. It was a basic course to introduce new law students to the fundamentals we would need to know moving forward. I had been there most of the day, and night. The library held extended hours during exam times. I sat in a cubicle on the fourth floor, facing a window. It was my favourite spot to study. I tried not to be superstitious, but I had studied for all my examinations in my undergraduate degree in the same cubicle. The one time I hadn’t and pulled an all-nighter in my room the night before, I got a B-, which was truly horrific for me at the time. I promised myself I would always ensure I had a long study session at my fourth-floor cubicle after that. If I ever got to the library and someone was sitting in my spot, I would politely ask how long they planned on being there for and would sometimes wait nearby waiting to pounce as soon as they made any signs they were leaving. I couldn't focus right if I wasn't in my cubicle. It was my special place. My study spot somehow gave me superpowers to remember course materials and ace any test. The sound of the footsteps above me broke my fantasy and reminded me where I was. I shuddered. They echoed across the ceiling. Whose basement was this? How did I get here? It had been close to midnight at the library. When I felt comfortable I knew what would be required for my test, I gathered my things to leave. After packing away my laptop, I tossed my oversized University of Calgary sweater on. Although it was a typical cold February day in Alberta, the fourth-floor campus library was always boiling hot. The footsteps continued above me as I moved around the room as much as the chain allowed. I stood above the table, which was unusually low. I let out an audible gasp as I noticed a dark red stain on one corner. I looked down. I was still wearing my white campus sweater but saw drops of red marking my shoulder. My eyes widened as I remembered now. I left the library, waving at the campus police officer who sat at a table near the entrance. I winced in pain, thinking of my walk to the parking lot where I had parked my beat-up Volkswagen. All I had wanted that night was to grab some McDonald's drive-through, go home, and if my roommate was still up, watch a movie with her. The university campus was quiet at night, unlike the usual hustle of students during the daytime. The buildings were dark now, with only a few dim lights illuminating the pathways. The grassy lawns were empty. I remembered feeling uneasy. I thought about turning back to the library. Campus guards had offered to walk me to my car when I studied late. If only I’d taken them up on that offer. My phone rang loudly, breaking the silence of the night. I jumped and took my cell out of my pants. It was my mom.