I run back to the cabin, following the path and the two faint ruts my heels have left in it. In one pocket, I’ve shoved the guy’s wallet. The other pocket holds his keys and cell phone. And in my right hand I’m holding his gun.
The cabin door is still ajar. It’s cold inside, an old cold, like no one has lived here for a while.
When I take two more steps, I see a face. Staring back at me.
I jerk to a stop, my heart leaping in my chest.
It’s a girl. Her mouth opens as if to sound the alarm that I am free, that I am alive, when I am supposed to be neither of those things. I scream and raise the gun, holding it with both hands.
The girl facing me does the same.
It’s a mirror, of course. A mirror with coat hooks hanging above it. One of them holds a coat which covers most of the frame. I push the coat aside and stare at myself. At me. At who I must be.
Only it’s a face I don’t recognize.
