Part 17 (1/2)

Abby said, ”And warn the people at the lodge that a very large, very cold, very hungry party is coming in from the wilderness. I volunteer!”

Since the lodge was just around the bend ahead, I wasn't worried about them getting lost or separated from us. I lit a flare and handed it to Abby. ”Go for it,” I said to Abby and Sam.

As they plunged out of sight, I lit the other two flares and gave one of them to Charlie.

”We're almost there,” I said encouragingly. ”You go first and I'll bring up the rear.”

We fell into line: Charlie, Stacey, Woodie, Claudia, and me. The flares helped, but they made weird shadows in the ghostly swirl of the snow.

To one side I could see the drop down to the lake. To the other, the trees marched up the hillside, twisting and moaning in the wind.

I thought of the dumb horror movie Karen and David Michael had been watching.

Stacey suddenly seemed to slip. Woodie leaped forward, in the same instant, and grabbed her wrist. But he didn't pull her away from the lake to safety. He pulled her toward him, toward the lake, backing into the shelter of a tree.

Claudia stopped. We all stopped.

What was going on?

Then Stacey screamed, ”What are you doing? Let me go!”

And Woodie began to laugh.

”Stay back,” he shouted. ”Stand back or she goes in!”

We stopped in a ragged half-circle around him.

”Woodie?” said Charlie. ”What - ?”

”Shut up!” screamed Woodie. His eyes rolled wildly. ”It's your fault. You made me do it. You're the ones who caused all the trouble!”

”What are you talking about?” I said.

”My father. Karl Tate - ”

”Karl Tate!” Claudia said with a gasp.

”Remember him?” Woodie's lip lifted in a sneer. ”Or have you already forgotten how you ruined him? Humiliated him. Sent him to prison!”

”But we didn't,” I said. ”We just - ”

”Don't try to get out of it. Oh, you were big heroes, weren't you? Had your picture in the newspapers! Well, so did my father. Everyone pointed and stared and whispered. Suddenly we had nothing. Nothing! Do you know what that's like?”

Something caught my eye. A flare. It was Sam and Abby hurrying back toward us. Had they heard Stacey scream?

The flare disappeared. Then I saw them again, ghostly shapes crouched low, sneaking up behind Woodie, his arm now around Stacey's throat.

”We're sorry,” I said, stalling for time.

”Not as sorry as you're going to be,” he snarled.

Sam straightened up. He motioned at me. Then Abby made a throwing motion.

Woodie stepped back.

”No!” I shouted and threw my flare at him. Instinctively he raised his hands and ducked.

Stacey drove her elbow into Woodie's stomach and jumped away.

Woodie staggered back and slipped. For a moment, his arms flailed the air wildly. Sam grabbed for him, but it was too late.

With a wild, mad scream that I will never forget, Woodie Tate fell down the bank and through the ice into the freezing waters of Shadow Lake.

”It's over,” I said. ”This time, It's really over.”

We were sitting in the lodge by the fire, surrounded by hot chocolate, nachos, and every combination of junk food we could lay our hands on. We were warm and dry and fed and safe. And Watson and Mom and Karen and Andrew and David Michael, escorted by the Shadow Lake police, were on their way back to the lodge to join us.