“Sorry. Weird thought. Long day. Who needs a refill?” Maddie went back to the bar, but Levi sat up a little straighter. Someone going a little blank like that once was an anomaly, but twice? “Come on guys, it’s our last night on Elliot’s dime and the bus won’t be here til 10:00 AM. Live a little!”
He scanned the room, looking at where Owen was sitting, where Maddie had been standing…the only thing out of the ordinary was the fog through the windows, pressing against every pane like it wanted in. At the far end of the room, past the bar area, one of the tall windows was cracked open. An inch. Maybe less. Fog curled in through the gap — a thin line of grey wisping across the sill, catching the firelight as it dissolved into the room’s warmth.
“I need to go close that window,” Levi said softly and squeezed Asher’s hand before he stood up. The cold hit him three stepsbefore he reached the window, like a draft with a weight to it, settling against his face and his hands and the front of his sweater.
A tendril of fog was still curling through the last inch of gap as he closed the window, dissolving as it wisped around his wrist, brushing across the inside like a breath, and a thought arrived in his head fully formed:
No one would notice if you were gone.
It wasn’t his voice. Or Maddie’s…
It was Ethan’s.
It was Ethan’s voice, in the exact same cadence he had used on the phone three weeks before he died, when Levi asked him how he was and Ethan had saidI’m fine, you worry about me too muchthe way he always said those words, and somewhere underneath it had been this exact sentence, and Levi did not hear it then.
His hand shook as he flipped the latch shut and returned to Asher’s side, sitting down just a bit too carefully.
“What was that?” Asher asked.
“There was fog coming in,” Levi kept his voice down. “I felt something when I touched it.”
“What kind of something?”
“Despair.” Levi swallowed hard, staring at the fire. “We need to stay away from the fog... and keep the windows closed. We need to keep everyone away from them.”
Asher draped his arm back over Levi’s shoulders, pulling him closer. “Okay. Done.”
Just like that. No argument. Nowho cares, they don’t matteror any kind of challenge…
He really is in a good mood…let’s hope it lasts from now until whatever the game has planned for tomorrow at 10:00AM.
17
The Jock
Leviwokeuptothe sound of something tapping the window in a room that felt colder than when he had fallen asleep. The fog was still there, outside the window, with condensation running down the outside of the pane in thin tracks, the larger drops hitting the sill as they fell. The light coming through had no direction to it, no sun behind it, just flat.
Last night felt far away. The group had dispersed slowly after Elliot reminded everyone that the wake-up call was at 9:30, the bus at 10, one more night and they’d be off the mountain.
That had been hours ago. The clock on the nightstand said 10:14 AM.
Shit.
Levi jumped as there was a knock on the door.
“Levi?” Zoe’s voice called, muffled through the wood. “Nobody got a wake-up call. Is Asher in there? I knocked on his door and there was no answer.”
Asher’s arm tightened across his waist.
“Give us a minute,” Levi called.
He slid out from under Asher’s arm and went to the window, leaning his face close to the glass without touching it. The fog was brighter than last night but not clearer — the brightness made it worse, actually, because he could see further into it and it didn’t quite make sense. The shapes were there, moving at their wrong speed, but there were more of them now. Three, four, five — drifting past each other at different distances, different sizes, all moving in directions that didn’t correspond to wind. Closer to the ground, there were smaller shapes, vaguely shaped like people, drifting as though they couldn’t hold their forms. They jittered in and out of sight.
There are more. Okay. As long as they stay out there, we have time. There have to be clues about what we need to do next.
He turned from the window and looked around the room as Asher sat up, yawning and stretching. The closet was still open — he’d grabbed a t-shirt for Asher from it last night, and the carry-on bag was still on the floor where he’d left it. If this was supposed to be his room, there was probably some sort of inventory in there the game was giving him.
He crouched down and opened it. It was mostly empty — just a toiletry bag, a pair of reading glasses in a case, a cardigan folded at the bottom. Tucked in the front pocket was a folded piece of paper, soft at the creases from being handled. He unfolded it and saw an itinerary in faded ink, printed on thin travel-agent paper.Margaret Husk - Green Oasis Development. Restorations Mountain Lodge. Check-in: September 14, 2008. Check-out: September 17, 2008.
