I run toward the cabin. The huge fallen pine is cradled on the broken roof. Some of the branches have punched like spears through the windows. I peer through the snow for some sign of Josh. Then I see him running toward me from behind the cabin.
“Are you okay?” I shout over the wind. He leans toward me so I can hear him.
“Fine. I was out on the main path the whole time. I thought you were in Pineview when I saw the tree start to go. That’s why I called you.” Another huge burst of wind makes us both wince. “Let’s get out of here!” We stumble through the snow toward the main hall.
When we get there, it takes some work to open the big door against the wind. Once it’s closed, we both just rest for a second. Wet snow drips from our clothes onto the red carpet.
“I’ve never seen a storm like this,” says Josh.
“You have not spent much time here,” says a voice from behind us. I flinch. It’s Edward, leaning against the frame of the door to his office, arms crossed. “It happens every few years. This is why you are working so hard to protect these buildings. The weather up here is destructive.”
“Yeah, well, we just watched a tree come down on the Pineview cabin,” I say. “It’s still standing, but there’s a lot of damage.”
“I see,” says Edward, straightening up. “Harvey will have to look at it when he returns. Come into my office.”
We follow him inside. Edward turns to sit on the edge of his desk. Shadows flicker on the walls from the candles he has set around the room.
“I can see that you are both unnerved. The storm, the power failure—these are setbacks, to be sure.” He looks so calm, so composed. Has he been hiding out here in his office the whole time? Doesn’t he know what it’s like out there? I look around his office. Maybe he does—the long winter jacket on the back of his door is wet, so he must have been out there recently. And there’s something else. Something else in his office has changed.
“I don’t think we should be out there,” I say. Right away, I know I’ve said the wrong thing. It’s like bait. Edward’s eyes narrow.
“No, Dylan, ‘out there’ is exactly where you need to be,” he says. He moves behind his desk, turning away and examining a candle on his bookshelf. “The weather is no excuse for being lazy. If anything, this storm gives you a reason to work more quickly.” He carefully pulls some wax from the candle, not looking at us. “So back to work. I’ll send Harvey out to look at the cabin when he returns.”
I realize that I’m staring at an empty spot on his bookshelf. That’s what’s different.
The old knife roll. His black-cloth bundle of chef’s knives. It was on the bookshelf last time I was here. It’s gone.
It’s as if there’s a pressure wave building up in my head, and I can’t hold it in anymore. I barely slept last night. All the weird stuff has been slowly cranking up the pressure in my head. And now it’s going to burst out. I know I shouldn’t say anything. That it will just make Edward mad. But the words tumble out of me.
“Edward, I want to leave. Like, right now,” I say, my voice tight and angry. I walk around the desk until I’m standing right in front of him. I realize I’m shaking as I stare into his surprised face. I keep talking, faster and louder. “I think we all need to get out of here. There’s no power, trees might come down on the road—or on the cabins. We could seriously get hurt. Or worse, like that kid who went missing a couple years ago. Right?” Edward looks deadly serious. But I stammer on. “Maybe we should just head into town and meet up with Harvey. Just take the other pickup and drive out. We need to get out.”
I realize that I’m begging like a little kid, and I stop. Then there’s just the sound of the wind rattling the windowpane. Even I know that I sound crazy. Like I’m totally losing it. I look at my hands. I’m still shaking. Maybe I am losing it. Finally Edward speaks.
“Have I not been clear?” he says. I expect him to be angry, so somehow it’s worse when his voice is so calm and flat. Then it gets even creepier. He reaches over and gently brushes some melting snow from my red jacket. “My poor boy.” He lifts one hand and gently cradles my cheek. But his expression hardens. “I have the only keys to the truck. We leave when I say we leave. And you work until I say that you stop. Am I not perfectly clear?” A thin slash of a smile creases his face. His eyes don’t smile. “Do you need me to help clarify this for you?”
I flinch away from his cold fingers and shake my head.