4. Trust

“What do you know about my father?”

“Uncle Robert?”

Jared nods and waits for an answer. The cabin we’re in only has a couple of windows, and they’re iced over, so it appears to be the middle of the night in this darkened room. I can hear the purring of wind outside. I shiver as I start to feel my toes again.

How’d I get here? I blacked out and then—then what? I recall an engine. Like a motorcycle. Or maybe …

“Did we ride a snowmobile to get here?” I ask.

“What else could we have ridden in this weather? I had to strap you around me to keep you from falling off.”

Part of me thinks he’s making that up, just like the fact that he’s Uncle Robert’s son.

“I didn’t know—Mom didn’t even know he had any children.”

“He never quite got around to sending out a birth announcement, not to mention staying around after I was born. Calling him my father—well, that’s stretching it a bit. I only learned his identity after I turned twenty-one. By then, it was too late.”

“Too late for what?”

“He was already missing. That’s why I want—why I need to know everything I can about him. I need your help.”

There’s a part of me that doesn’t like this. That doesn’t like sitting here in another cabin with someone else I don’t know, wondering what exactly is going on.

At least there are no dogs around here.

I think back to Midnight, who was curled up in a ball when I left her.

“All I know is my mom and Uncle Robert lived around here when they were younger. They moved after their mother died. Moved to the Chicago area, where my mom stayed. According to her, Uncle Robert went off to college but dropped out after their father died.”

“And you’ve never seen him since?”

“I remember seeing him a few times. A few weekends. I remember jet-skiing with him when we went up to Michigan. Doing stuff like that.”

“Why’d you and your mom come back?”

“What happened to him?”

“Answer my question first,” Jared says.

“I’m tired of not knowing anything around here.”

“Look, Chris, I’m only trying to help.”

“Then tell me—”

“I don’t know.” The voice echoes off the walls. “I have no idea. That’s why I need your help. Anything you know about where he might have gone.”

I think of the items I found in Uncle Robert’s closet. The gun, the iPod, the zip drive.

Don’t tell him too much.

“Have you talked to my mother?”

The guy shifts his eyes in a way that isn’t too settling.

“No.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Listen, Chris, you might not believe anything I’m saying, and that’s fine. I get it because of—because of everything. But I know. I know what happened to her.”

“What happened to who?”

He shakes his head as if he’s already tired of this conversation. Or of me.

“What happened to Jocelyn.”

“You know?”

The guy curses. “Yeah. A lot of people around here know. But you’re never going to hear about it again.”

“We have to get out of here and tell somebody. Anybody.”

“Is that what you were trying to do?”

“Yeah.”

“Were you able to dial 9-1-1? Or shoot off an email to someone? Anyone?”

I shake my head. A knot seems to be forming on the back of my head.

“The town is in shut-down mode. It’s been like this before.”

“Shut-down mode.”

“The snow’s only made it easier. Listen to me—there’s nothing you can do.”

I start to go off about what I think we should do, but Jared interrupts me right away.

“There’s nothing you can do now.”

“We have to talk to my mom.”

“We can’t do that.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s with them.”

The firelight in the cabin illuminates the partial scruff on his face. I see the earnest look in his eyes; a guy not much older than I am, staring at me for help and answers.

“Look, man, I understand,” he says. “My mom couldn’t handle stuff and moved right after telling me about my father. Sometimes I think—I don’t know. I think that something really bad happened to her here. The way it happens to a lot of people around here.”

For a moment I get up and hold the coffee mug as if it might be a weapon I’m going to need any second. “You’re lying.”

“Chris, sit down.”

“You’re just another person in this crazy town who’s trying to lie to me.”

“And why would I do that? Now, especially?” His voice is calm and assured. He waits for me to sit back down and listen to him. “They don’t know about me. And maybe—I don’t know. I’d like to think that somehow that’s why my father had nothing to do with me. He was protecting me. Wishful thinking, maybe. I’m not trying to do anything here but help you and find my father.”

I’m tired from the overload on my brain.

“What do you mean, Mom is with them?”

“She knows. She knows everything.”

“She knows about Jocelyn?”

He nods. “I’m not saying she wanted it to happen. There are a lot of people around here who don’t like what’s happening, but they have to put up with it. She’s probably protecting you.”

“There’s no way.”

“Why did you guys come back here?” he asks again.

“To get away from my father.”

“Really? Why here? Why Solitary?”

“Because that’s the only place my mom knows. She wanted to find Uncle Robert.”

“Did you ever think that maybe she knew he was already gone?”

I sit in silence. The wind howls, and I feel like finding the nearest blanket and burying myself under it. I don’t want to go outside anymore. I don’t want to go anywhere.

“All I know is that your mother knows, Chris. I’m just searching for my father. And I’m worried—I’m worried that he still might be alive. For now.”

I shake my head. The world feels dizzy.

This isn’t really happening, is it?

“I don’t get it,” I said. “What’s going on here? With this town? With everything?”

“I think it all got worse with that pastor. Pastor Marsh. When he came back, things started to happen.”

“Came back from where?”

“I don’t know—from exploring the world or something. He moved back to this town with ideas and plans. Big plans.”

“For what?” My voice sounds hoarse.

“I think that an evil has hovered around this area for a long time. And he was the reason why it suddenly came back. With a vengeance.”

“Why haven’t you gone for help? Gotten out of this town and tried to get help?”

“Because my dad is missing, man. Plus, I tried. I went a few towns over to a guy that I know. Who’s been in our house and eaten at our table. A guy I knew I could trust. And they’d gotten to him. I told him everything I knew—this was half a year ago. I told him about my father missing and then my mother taking off. And about others missing—high school students. The stories—stories that are shared in the middle of the night when nobody else is around. I told him all this, and what does the guy do? He ends up reporting a break-in at his house and claims it was me.”

“What?”

“Yeah. And I—there’s nowhere to go. Not yet. If I knew my father wasn’t alive, then I’d leave here. But that’s what they do, Chris.”

I think about what they told me. The warning on New Year’s Eve.

That’s what they do, Chris.

“So what are we going to do?” I ask.

“Listen to me, okay? You have to lie low. For a while.”

“Have you been leaving me notes at school?”

He looks surprised at my question, then shakes his head. “What kind of notes?”

“Just notes saying the same thing. To keep to myself. To stay out of trouble.”

“Not everyone around this town is like that pastor. The problem is that you don’t know who you can trust.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Jared shifts in his seat and hovers on the edge of it. “Listen, Chris. You gotta trust me. We have to trust each other. Okay?”

For a moment I’m spiraling, doing somersaults down the side of the mountain.

Then I nod.

I have to trust someone.