Page 1
CHAPTER 1
HER FATHER WOULD have killed her.
Or at least grounded her.
Fortunately for Ava Delune, her daddy was in Rochester for a trade show, believing that his teenage daughter was sleeping over at her friend Emma Fry’s house.
Instead, Ava was near the northern tip of Cayuga Lake, sitting in her family’s ice-fishing shack on a frigid February night.
Emma was seated right next to her, sucking on a vape pen and stamping her feet, trying to warm up. It was her first time out here. “Jesus!” she muttered. “Is it always this damn cold?”
“Nah,” Ava replied. “It’s usually worse.”
As far as Ava was concerned, her father had only himself to blame for her love of the rugged outdoors. He’d started taking her on winter hikes as soon as she could walk, and from the first time he’d brought her out ice fishing, she couldn’t get enough. The smallmouth bass and perch she pulled out of the lake were hardly trophies, but there was something about the shelter of the shack and the thrill of the catch that drew her. As soon as she could, Ava started sneaking out to the shack on her own, behind her father’s back.
Like tonight.
The ice beneath the girls was five inches thick. The hole in front of them was six inches across. Only Ava was fishing. Her line ran from her fast-action rod through the hole and down into the black water. She watched the line as she huddled on a nylon folding chair, alert to the slightest tremble from underneath.
The temperature on the lake was far below freezing, and the wind was picking up. It made tiny whistling sounds as it slipped through the cracks in the wood siding of the shack. The only light inside was from a rusted camping lantern. Outside, it was pitch-black.
“Hungry?” asked Ava.
Emma nodded. “Starving. Can we order pizza?”
Ava laughed. With her free hand, she pulled a cheese sandwich in a plastic bag from under her parka. She handed half of the sandwich to Emma. Emma took it gingerly with her gloved fingers. “It’s not frozen?”
“Hell no. I’ve been warming it up in my armpit.”
“Gross, Ava!”
A fresh burst of wind hit the shack, rocking it slightly and making the sides creak. The girls shivered and bit into their sandwiches.
Suddenly something banged against one wall of the shack. Emma jumped up from her stool and spun around. “What the hell was that?”
Ava chuckled. “Calm down. It’s just the wind.”
Another bang, a little louder and from another spot on the wall.
“No way,” said Emma, dropping her sandwich. “Something’s out there.”
Now there was another sound. Slow tapping against the side of the shack. Like soft knocking—or fingers drumming. Terrified, Emma held her breath. Ava pulled the boning knife out of her tackle box and inched toward the plywood door. She pushed it open slowly and motioned Emma back. “Stay here. Don’t move.”
Ava stepped out onto the snow-dusted ice and let the door close behind her. She gripped the knife and peeked around the side of the shack. The wind whipped against her cheeks. She could feel her heart pounding under her parka.
She took another step. She raised the knife, ready to strike.
And then she saw it.
The intruder.
Ava burst back into the shack holding a three-foot-long elm branch, coated in ice. She waved the frozen tip in Emma’s face. “See? I told you.” Ava was laughing now. “The wind blew it across the ice from shore. This is what you were wetting your pants over.”
Ducking the stiff branch, Emma turned her head toward the hole in the ice. “Hey, look!”
Ava dropped the branch. Her line was trembling!
She grabbed her gear and started pulling. The rod bent into an arc.
