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“Did they leave a message? We were kind of friendly.”

Shana made a look as though thinking over a thorny question.

“I didn’t find any messages. Did you check”—more steps, closer to Jack—“at the lodge?” Another step closer. “The registration desk? I hear—” Mouth open. Full lips.

Time for me to move this conversation outside, thought Jack.

“—that people do sometimes leave messages there.”

Jack nodded. He began to back out of the room.

Then a thought: Shana wasn’t here to clean the room, to get it ready for the next guests.

No. She was here giving it a once-over.

What was the word for a place cops found in this condition?

Tossed. It’s been tossed.

“Maybe last night spooked them, Jack.”

She came closer.

“Certainly didn’t spook you, now did it? We all hope—”

She put a hand on his shoulders.

“—that you’ll consider Ed’s offer. Head of Security.”

“I better go.” He looked around the room. “Wish I could have said good-bye to them.”

And asked him about any stuff they’ve seen. The burnt buildings on the cliff.

“Lot of perks with the job, Jack.”

She emphasized his name. Ja… ck. As if there was something funny about it. Something so amusing about this cat-and-mouse game.

“You could come by my place anytime. Split more wood. Or try some other things.”

He felt dizzy. The perfume. The musty air of the living room.

And then before he knew it, something happened. Shana leaned close and kissed Jack hard. Her other arm had circled him, holding him tight. Her lips moving, opening as she kissed.

“Jack, any sign of—”

He had pulled away as soon as he realized it had happened. But not soon enough that Christie, who had entered, didn’t see.

“Christ. Oh, God—”

In a second, she was gone.

“Oops,” Shana said, releasing him.

“What the hell are you—”

He shook his head, and ran after Christie. But she was moving as fast as she could, heading down to the trails, joining other people making their way to the lodge.

He was about to run after her. Bolt, stop her and explain.

Even as he wondered: Did I want that to happen? That kiss? Am I crazy?

He looked up.

High to a nearby pine tree. Way at the top.

And he saw something. A small box. Like a birdhouse. Almost invisible amid the branches.

But clearly there. He looked over at another tree. The view blocked, so he took some steps until he saw a similar box, pointed in a different direction. Pointed. Because now he knew what they were.

Cameras. Right. Security cameras. Missed them way up there. Aimed at the camp. Just like Tom had said.

Maybe it made sense. Make sure the camp was quiet.

But why watch the guests so closely? Why the need to follow their moves?

He turned around.

Shana still in the cottage.

Gotta stay away from her, he thought.

Stay away until we leave.

Thinking that, he knew that time would be soon. Something was wrong here, and the feeling was growing.

It was only when looking back at the cottage that something caught the glimmer of the setting sun about to disappear behind the mountains.

A few steps toward whatever was on the ground, catching the light at just the right angle.

Jack reached down.

And picked up a set of car keys.

* * *

He leaned across the dining room table. Christie had picked a seat so she wouldn’t sit near Jack, but across. The room buzzed with chatter and eating. Lowe gave Jack a wave and a smile; the happy prospective employer.

The kids were eating the food hungrily, the day’s exercise having its effect.

Jack waited until Christie, who had been avoiding his gaze, finally allowed her eyes to land on his.

“Can I explain?”

“What?”

Her voice—the word was like a dull hammer hitting wood.

“I did not do that.”

He saw Kate look over, finally catching on to the fact that in the world of her parents something was up.

“You think I’m blind, Jack?” Christie said. Then she, too, noticed Kate, chewing, listening in. “Can we talk on the way out? Please?”

Christie’s eyes were stone cold.

Then: “Okay.”

They went back to eating.

31. 7:10 P.M.

They walked together. Christie looked over her shoulder.

“Let the kids get ahead,” she said.

When they did, Jack explained how it came to be that Shana had kissed him.

Christie walked on, not saying anything, until Jack stopped her, holding her elbow, getting in front of her.

“Look at me. Do you really think I would do anything like that?”

“I don’t know what to think.”

“Yes, you do. You know it was her. Almost like she knew you’d walk in. I pushed her away as soon I could.”

She looked right into his eyes now, then away. But when her gaze came back, he thought that maybe she finally believed him.

“Crazy bitch,” she said. Then she laughed.

Jack didn’t laugh. He started walking again.

“There’s something else, Christie. The alarms.”

“Yes. The horns.”

“Before we came back, I saw something out there.”

He described the burned buildings, the blackened timbers.

“God.”

Then: “And I thought I saw a body up there, a skeleton.”

She turned to him, and suddenly his fear, his paranoia—was hers.

“How? What do you think happened?”

“I don’t know. Don’t look anywhere. Just listen to my words. Wait—then look.”

“You’re scaring me.”

“Okay. Stop here. And just ahead—close to the cottages. Check out the trees. Way up. You’ll see something. Hidden. But you can tell, whatever they are, they’re not part of the tree.”

Christie took a quick look. Head moving left and right, then quickly back to Jack.

“I saw something. What are they?”

“Cameras. All around us, cameras. Fixed, tracking those walkways, all the cottages.” He took a breath. “All the guests.”

“Security?” she said.

Nothing. Then: “Right. Sure. Reason I stopped you right here, I didn’t see any camera that could pick up this spot.” He shook his head. “Could be security. Could be. After all, one bad incident here, and this place could get shut down.”

“And you don’t believe that?”

“I don’t want you afraid. I don’t want the kids afraid.”

“Tell me.”

“Shana was looking for something in the Blairs’ cabin. And outside—”

Jack looked around. No one seemed to be watching them talk. No cameras here.

“—I found these.”

He pulled out the set of car keys like it was contraband.

His wife said nothing.

“Found them outside the Blairs’ cabin. I mean, they could be anyone’s. But something feels wrong here.”

Jack could feel her fear. Her eyes darting.

Then: “All right.” Christie took a breath. “So, now what?”

“For now, tonight—nothing. Place seems to go into lockdown mode at night. Tomorrow morning, I think we leave.”

No words back from her this time about the job offer, about the crystalline lake, the clean air.

Christie nodded. “We can play some board games with the kids. Nice and quiet. Get them to bed. Get up early. Go home.”

“Right. Listen. It could all be nothing, Christie. We live in a strange world; that makes places, people strange. Maybe it was too much to hope that we could find some place peaceful. Some place to escape.”