"I'm cold,” I told Mason, who stood between me and the door, guarding it. The picture was almost comical. Did he think I was going to barrel past him? And go where-into the storm?

"Can you at least bring me my coat?" I persisted. I had my red scarf, which I'd worn all evening, but it wasn't enough against the chill. "I think I left it in the kitchen."

"Nice try."

"What do you think I'm 'trying'?" He didn't respond.

"It would be tragic if I ran off into the forest and got lost, wouldn't it?" I went on, feeling angry suddenly. "Then you'd have no one to help you off the mountain. Are you and Shaun in trouble? What did you do? Are you running from the police? That's it, isn't it?"

Mason remained closemouthed.

"What happened at the 7-Eleven earlier?" I'd intended to sound tough and accusatory, but my voice broke on the last syllable, revealing my hurt. "If you're really a cold-hearted criminal, why did you help me?"

He glanced at me with cool detachment. At least he'd acknowledged me. It was halfway to a response.

"You played along,” I continued. "You tricked my ex-boyfriend. You knew my name. Who was that guy?"

"Your name was printed on your T-shirt."

"I know that,” I said tersely. "The point is, you took the time to read it and care. You were a different person. You helped me. And now you're holding me hostage. I want an explanation."

His face returned to impassive.

"Do you and Shaun really think you can pull this off? The storm will blow over, and people will £ll the mountainside again. You won't be able to hold Korbie and me hostage and keep it a secret. People will see us all out there in the forest together-hikers and campers and park rangers. They'll want to talk, because that's what people do in the mountains. They're friendly and observant. They'll know something is wrong."

"Then keep us far away from those people."

"The deeper I take you into the forest, the greater the chance we'll get lost."

"Don't get lost."

"I know you're not like Shaun,” I said, refusing to give up. "You didn't want to let us inside the cabin tonight. It's because you knew this would happen, didn't you? That Shaun would take us hostage. And you tried to prevent it."

"Even if that were the case, it didn't work."

"Do you really think Shaun will kill us? Why won't you tell me what's going on?"

"Why would I do that?" he said crossly. "I'm in this for myself. If you're worried about what's going to happen to you, start focusing on getting us off the mountain. Do that and we'll let you go."

"How do I know that?"

He merely looked at me.

"You're lying,” I whispered, my voice suddenly hoarse. "You're not going to let us go."

The contours of his face tightened. I feared I had my answer.

A wild idea shot into my brain. It was risky, but if Korbie and I were going to die, I had to do something. Mason and Shaun didn't need both of us to get them off the mountain-they only needed me. Shaun already believed Korbie was useless. She hadn't prepared for this trip the way I had, and it showed. I didn't think I could get us both out of this mess, but I had a shot at getting Korbie out safely. I just had to reaffirm in Shaun's mind that she was worthless and nonthreatening. And that he was better off leaving her behind.

I swallowed hard. I had never considered myself brave. I was the spoiled daddy's girl. If I went through with this, it meant leaving Korbie. I didn't know if I had the courage to hike into the forest alone with Shaun and Mason.

But I didn't see any other choice.

"Korbie has type I diabetes,” I said. "She has to take insulin. Without it, she'll go into a coma. If it lasts long enough, it's fatal." Once, at summer camp, Korbie and I convinced our camp counselor that Korbie had diabetes and wasn't feeling well enough to help out with the service project. While the rest of the girls picked up trash along the river, Korbie and I stole ice cream sandwiches from the kitchen and ate them in our cabin. If Shaun or Mason quizzed Korbie about having diabetes, I was confident Korbie would remember our ruse, know I was planning something, and go along with it.

"You're lying."

"She takes Humalog and Lantus daily. She has to keep her blood sugar level as close to normal as possible." I knew about type I diabetes because my older brother, Ian, had it. If Mason pressed for more information, I had an abundance of it. I could sell this story.

"Where's her medication?"

"In the car. It's frozen by now, which means it has to be thrown out. She isn't going to last long without insulin. This is serious, Mason. You have to let her go. I can tell Shaun doesn't care if we live or die, but you don't want Korbie's death on your hands, do you?"

Mason studied me closely. "You haven't been here that long. The medication might not be frozen. Tell me how to get to your car. I'll get the insulin."

"We've been here two hours. That insulin is frozen solid." Some thin gun decipherable flitted over his features. Before I could nail down the emotion, a shadow moved in the doorway, and I realized Shaun was standing there. I didn't know how much he'd heard, but his eyes appeared sharp and attentive. A ponderous frown tugged at his mouth.

"Insulin? That doesn't sound good,” he said at last.

"I'll get it,” Mason told him. "And I'll grab their gear while I'm at it. I'll take Britt with me. She can show me the way."

My heart leaped at this sudden turn of events. If I went with Mason, I could try to find Calvin. He had to be looking for Korbie and me by now, searching the roads near Idlewilde. How many wrong turns could I have made? One? We had to be close to Idlewilde. Five miles away at most.

"No,” said Shaun. "Britt stays here. I don't want to risk anything happening to her, since she's our ticket off this mountain. Britt, tell Mason where to go. No games. If he's not back in two and a half hours, I'm gonna have to assume you lied." His frown deepened. "Believe me, you don't want to lie to me."

I had to convince Shaun to let me go outside. "You won't know what you're looking for,” I told Mason. "Have you ever seen insulin or an insulin pen before?"

"I'll figure it out."

"I don't remember exactly where I packed them-"

"It's a car." Mason cut me off. "It won't take long to search the whole thing. You drive an orange Wrangler, right?"

I flinched. "How do you know that?"

"The gas station,” he replied brusquely. Before I could press, he continued, "How do I get to your car from here?"




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