And right where he’d seen it before was the snowmobile. He checked it over quickly, it was an older model, maybe ten years old he guessed, but it looked well-maintained. Living out here in the woods and mountains, this snowmobile would be someone’s (Tom Gordon’s) lifeline if a blizzard hit, and that person would take care of it; the snowmobile would need to be operable at all times.

He shoved his hand into his pants pocket and even though his fingers were beginning to go numb, he could feel the keys to the snowmobile. He grabbed the key and stuck it into the ignition. He twisted the key gently, he didn’t want to start the snowmobile, he just wanted to see if the electrical system still worked and wanted to see how much fuel was in it.

The lights of the snowmobile lit up when he twisted the key, and he could see the fuel gauge – almost full. He twisted the key to the off position, took it out of the ignition and pocketed it. He didn’t want to start the snowmobile yet – there was something else he needed to do, the other reason he was in the garage.

He grabbed the half-full gas can from the floor and ran for the open garage doors, he ran for the dark blue rectangle against the pitch black garage that was the open doorway. He almost expected Frank or Jose to step into that dark blue rectangle. He could see Frank’s head cocked to the side in his mind; he could see that plastic smile. “Where are you going, Cole?” Frank would ask in his pleasant but gurgling and grave-cold voice.

Or maybe Trevor would step into the doorway.

Cole pushed the thought of Trevor away.

No one stepped into the doorway and Cole ran out of the garage and right to the cabin.

Frank and the others would be coming now, Cole thought. They would be coming when they saw what he was doing.

You’re not following instructions, his mind whispered.

Fuck the instructions, Cole thought.

He ran through the snow as fast as he could and the gas in the plastic can sloshed as he stomped through the snow. His lungs were burning and his muscles were already aching from the run through the deep snow. He ran right up to the corner of the cabin, the same corner where Trevor had hopped over the porch railing down into the snow to check the back of the cabin the first day they were here – it seemed so long ago now.

Cole pulled off the plastic cap on the nozzle of the gas can and he tossed it into the snow; he wouldn’t need it anymore, he was going to use every bit of this gasoline. He sloshed the gas all over the logs of the cabin. He ran down the side of the cabin, drenching the logs as he went.

He hurried around to the back of the cabin and he continued to douse the wood with the gas. But now he saw something in the darkness. Two figures stumbling through the snowy back field, stumbling right towards him. It was difficult to make out the details of the figures, but just by the awkward way one of them moved through the snow, like the pieces of his body were shifting against each other, and the tatters of clothing were hanging from the frame, he could tell it was Trevor.

Cole didn’t watch them approach, he had to keep his mind on what he was doing, on his task at hand. The digital numbers were counting down in his mind. He rounded the corner of the cabin and ran as fast as he could through the snow, still dousing the logs on this side of the cabin with the gas he had left. He was afraid Needles and Trevor would catch up to him. He was afraid that he would feel cold dead fingers grabbing the back of his neck soon, afraid that he would hear his brother’s now-raspy voice.

The gas in the plastic container was almost gone when Cole got to the front corner of the cabin by the porch. He looked back behind him; he could see his tracks through the snow, but he didn’t see the two figures anymore.

You know who they were, his mind whispered to him. They were Needles and Trevor. You know that; don’t try to pretend that you don’t know who they were.

Cole ignored the whisperings in his mind that seemed to be getting louder and louder. He splashed what little gas he had left all over the logs and then he threw the gas can into the snow. He climbed up onto the railing from the snow and he clamored over the railing and dropped down onto the floorboards with a thud as snow spilled off his pants legs and boots. He got to his feet and he was about to bolt to the front door, but a voice stopped him in his tracks. It was Frank’s voice – this monster’s mouthpiece.

“What are you doing, Cole?”

Cole looked out at the field and he saw Frank standing in the snow. Same Frank. Same clothes. Same smile. Same hollowed-out body. Only this time Frank had someone else with him – Jose, and Jose held an ax.

“You need to kill the boy, Cole,” Frank said.

Cole took a step towards the front door, and then another, yet he still kept his eyes on Frank and Jose.

As Cole took a step closer to the front door, Jose took a step closer to the cabin.

Cole couldn’t see Jose all that well in the darkness, but even from what he could make out, he could tell that there was something wrong with the way Jose looked, something wrong with his body, his neck, and his face.

Cole took another step towards the front door; he was only about six or seven long strides away from it.

And now Jose started running towards the cabin through the snow. He raised the ax up in his hands that were way too thin – almost skeletal.

Cole ran for the door. His boots clomped down on the floorboards and snow flaked off of his pants and coat. He reached his hands out for the door handle as a thought raced through his mind.

What if Stella was awake now? What if she’d seen him leave? What if she had locked the door?

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Stella hadn’t locked the door; she hadn’t even made it to the door yet. She still stared at the freezer in the kitchen. She was on her feet now and she backed away from the nearly empty case of money and from the dining room table chair. She backed away from the kitchen with its microwave oven that she could see was clearly counting down numbers. She backed away from the smell of gas.

She backed away from the freezer. The lid continued bumping up and down, and then the lid finally crashed open and slammed into the log wall, held there by a thin arm with a spider-like hand.

Stella had backed all the way up into the living room, in front of the couch where David still slept. But she didn’t look at David; she kept her eyes on the freezer where Tom Gordon sat straight up. His movements were jerky as he climbed out of the freezer, and his limbs, which seemed like they were at odd angles, popped back into place with loud snapping sounds as he moved. Tom Gordon’s body wasn’t completely thawed yet and the ice crystals still twinkled on his bluish skin. He stared right at Stella with his eyeless face.

And then he smiled.

“No,” Stella whispered.

She finally turned to David. He was still sleeping on the couch, but his arms were straight up in the air and his hands moved like he was still drawing the symbols in his notebook, still writing an ancient language that he couldn’t possibly know.

“David!” she screamed. “Wake up!”

David’s eyes moved back and forth underneath his closed eyelids. Back and forth. Back and forth. But he wasn’t opening his eyes, he wasn’t waking up. His hands moved in the air as he drew the imaginary symbols.

“David!!”

She shook him. “You have to wake up!!”

A slamming noise startled Stella. She looked back at Tom Gordon who stood in front of the freezer on unsteady legs. But she realized the slamming noise hadn’t come from the kitchen. It had come from …

… the front door.

Cole burst through the front door and then he slammed it shut. He locked the deadbolt, but he knew they were going to have to get out of this cabin very soon – it was a ticking time bomb.