Edward crosses through the dark cabin until only a bed is between us. He shines his flashlight on the iron poker on the mattress. On the plank torn from the wall.
“More vandalism?” he says. “Disappointing. Harvey told me you had learned your lesson.” He picks up the poker and moves to place it back next to the woodstove. “Clearly, you haven’t learned a thing. We’ll have to remedy that.” My pulse is pounding. I look toward the door, but Edward turns suddenly, the poker still in his hand.
“Josh told me what you think you saw in the woods,” he says, stepping closer to me. “You know, Josh says you’ve been seeing a lot of things recently. And that little wound on your head can’t help. Must’ve been quite a fall.” He reaches up with his free hand and brushes his fingers across the gash on my forehead. I flinch and catch sight of Josh. He blinks a few times and looks away.
“I had to tell him, Dylan,” he says. “You were acting kind of crazy. I was worried about you.”
My head throbs. Suddenly, I’m furious. Furious at Edward for what he did to Allen. To Josh. For what Edward’s gotten away with all these years.
“It’s not all in my head,” I say, holding up the notebook. “This proves it. You remember Allen? He wrote all about you in here. All the crap you made him do. All the stuff you filled his head with.” For once, Edward looks flustered. His mouth works, but nothing comes out. I keep going.
“What happened to Allen? He tried to run away, like me, didn’t he? You kept on pushing him and pushing him until he couldn’t take it anymore. Right?” Now I’m yelling. “Right?”
For a moment, standing there in the cold light of our flashlights, Edward is completely still. And pale. Like a corpse. Then his face wrinkles into a snarl.
“Not at all,” he says. “Allen knew better than to try and leave. He was a smart boy. Not like you.” Edward points the poker at me. “You just think you’re smart. No, Allen was clever enough to always do what I asked.” He steps even closer to me. His eyes have that look again—hungry, cold. Not quite human.
“But Allen, in the end, was too lazy.” Edward snorts. “Like all of you, isn’t it true? Why is that? All of you—slackers.” He punctuates the word by tapping the poker on the mattress beside me. My back is against the wall. I look over at Josh. He’s frozen, still near the door.
“So one morning, Allen just…gave up. And he had swum out to the raft so many times before. He was a strong boy. The cold shouldn’t have been a problem. And yet…” Edward presses his face close to mine, close enough for me to gag on the metallic scent of his aftershave. “And I couldn’t have questions, could I? Not everyone understands my training methods. It wasn’t my fault that he was weak and couldn’t make it back to shore. So I tucked him away in the woods. You understand, don’t you, Josh?”
Edward suddenly turns toward Josh. I realize I’ve been holding my breath, and now I let it go. I slip the notebook into my pocket. We need to get out of here. I look around. There’s only the one door. Where Josh is standing.
“Come here, Josh.” Edward walks toward him, poker swinging at his side. “We’ll start with you. We’ll clean up this mess together, shall we?”
“What do you mean?” says Josh. He pushes his glasses back up on his nose.
“No!” I shout. Just before Edward swings the long iron poker at Josh’s head.