Zenith Fulfilled by Leanne Davis Page B

the address beneath. More gravel, more one- laned road to steer his bike over. He was well prepared for hillbilly hell.
    The evergreen trees that choked the road opened up into a clearing. They were obviously removed to create an acre or possibly more for the house and grounds. Beyond that was more forest, and more trees that peppered into the distance for miles. Talk about no neighbors! The Randall’s house was beautiful. Really, it was. A two-story house surrounded by a huge porch that rounded the corners before it disappeared from vision. Gables rose from the second story, and a matching, detached garage stood on the right, with a mini-van parked in front.
    The house was painted a dark green, with a black roof, and white trim. The yard was landscaped in rolling grass, and large, well groomed shrubbery followed the lines of the porch, extending into the lawn. A walkway traversed the lawn, leading to the front door under the porch. It wasn’t a huge house, maybe only a couple of thousand square feet, but its country charm complemented the landscape, the forest, the mountains, and the quiet that enveloped it. Sun from the fading sunset slanted in through the trees, creating a beam across the house,. The trees were silhouetted against the twilight sky. A flock of birds took off and reflected the last of the sun’s glow in a shadowy V-formation. It could have been a painting or a snapshot on a decorative plate or a sentimental greeting card.
    When Rob stopped his bike, Rebecca’s neighborhood surprised him. The quiet managed to even displace the roar of his bike’s engine. Quiet . Real quiet. There was no background noise of traffic, much less, people. No far off yells or shouts, or the rattling of lawn mowers. That’s because there was no one around. There was only the sound of trees rustling and birds chirping as the soft, gentle breeze fluttered through the branches. Holy shit was it quiet. Rob was used to loud machinery, busy traffic, and crowded city neighborhoods. Even at night, he was accustomed to loud clubs, loud music, and a loud life.
    Never this quiet. The forest. The land. The pristine, undeveloped, unoccupied land. Who knew such things existed?
    It started to creep him out far more than the dark city streets at night, where he could easily get jumped. But that was familiar, and still in his territory. This was the total unknown. It was too quiet and way too isolated. Who the hell knew what might lurk in these woods?
    Rob took his helmet off, and dismounted from the bike, snapping the kickstand down before he started towards the front door of the Randall’s house. He felt his nerves jumping. This wasn’t what he expected. He thought he was going to a suburban house in a suburban neighborhood. A house and area like he grew up in. He could handle it. Sure. Whatever. Freak out Rebecca’s husband maybe, then perhaps, she’d get discouraged enough to think the endeavor was as bad an idea as it truly was.
    He never expected to drive to the woods and mountains. He never expected the house to be located in the middle of nowhere. And it made him nervous. He, Rob, leader of the drunk and sleazy, was nervous. It was almost funny enough to make him stop and laugh.
    But he was here. In Normalville. The small-town, predictable family homestead. What could he say? Or do? How should he enter this house? What was the proper way to act? He should have made her come to him! He should have made her interview him at his house, in the city, totally out of her element and comfort zone. Out of her normal .
    His leather jacket squeaked as he stood awkwardly on the porch, after ringing the doorbell. He heard some laughter, very girlish, because they were squeals of laughter. Then someone was the running with loud footsteps. Holy Christ, little girls! A whole pack of them sounded like they were running towards the door. Towards him.
    Then the front door flew open , and before Rob were the three girls. They all stopped abruptly, as