Horse in the Wilderness

“Please hurry,” begged Autumn. “Something’s not right. I’ve got that feeling again.”
“What feeling?”
“I’ve had it twice and something happened both times.”
As they approached the creek Autumn said, “Do you suppose he’ll shoot at us again?”
“No,” Brent assured her. “He’s long gone.” Nevertheless, Brent gripped the steering wheel tightly and prayed a silent prayer that he was right.
They crossed the creek, followed the gravel road around the curve, and pulled in the driveway without incident. Autumn opened her car door, and they heard Jimmy howling and barking frantically from inside the cabin.
“Uh-oh,” she said. “No telling what kind of mess he’s made.”
She shut the door and hurried around to the back. Brent sat in the car, wondering how much damage a ninety-five-pound German Shepherd could inflict on innocent, unsuspecting furniture and walls. The barking continued, sounding more frenzied, if possible. The man drummed his fingers edgily on the steering wheel. Autumn was taking far too much time. Something was definitely wrong.
As Brent laid his hand on the car door handle, Jimmy burst through the front bedroom window screen. The dog bounded up to the car and placed his paws on the window, whining. The cabin remained silent and dark.
The vandal had disappeared a few hundred yards away. Filled with sudden dread, Brent started to open the car door and go charging in, but something held him back. To keep the interior lights from coming on, he rolled down the window and slithered out with some difficulty.
Crossing the dark yard, he paused at the mutilated window to listen. From the woods and fields came the concert of crickets, tree frogs, and cicadas, beside him the German Shepherd panted loudly, but no sound came from inside the bedroom. Brent hoisted himself noiselessly through the window and felt his way across the dark room. Finding the open door at last, he listened intently. Was someone waiting in the shadows? He sensed no one. The refrigerator hummed peacefully and alone.
Outside, the dog renewed his whining and howling. His paws scrabbled on the window sill. Brent turned on the lights and explored the unfamiliar cabin. Autumn’s duffle bag sat beside the back door, where she had evidently left it earlier in the day. The door was still locked. He opened it and stepped into the empty screen porch. After he let the dog in, he went back outside to check his car. Autumn was nowhere to be found.