"Okay, fine, it's fine. It's just something warm."

I want to say that something warm in this place is probably poison, yet my mouth can't say anything.

"Look, just relax, okay? You almost got mauled by that dog, then you hit your head on a tree branch."

I still have a gash on my side from running through the woods and getting stuck with a branch two days ago.

These woods are treating me very well.

The world does a mini-earthquake as I try to sit up.

"Just take it easy."

I try to make out the figure sitting across from me. I'm on a sofa that seems like it's about ready to collapse. The walls seem to be moving around us, as if we're stuck in that trash compactor in the very first Star Wars movie.

"My name is Jared. I'm your cousin."

When the blurriness goes away and I can make out his face, I panic.

I see a boyish face with a faint beard and mustache. For a minute I try to remember if I've ever seen him before. My head hurts too much to think.

"Did your mother tell you about me?"

I shake my head.

There's quite a bit Mom's neglected to mention.

"Well, look-I can explain later. My father is your uncle."

"Uncle Robert?"

My voice sounds trippy and slow-mo. Like Uuuuuuunnnnnnccccccclllllllllleeeee Rrrrrrrrrrrooooooooobbbbbeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrtttttt.

"Yeah."

"Where is he?"

The guy looks at me with a solemn stare. "That's what I want to know."

"But if you're his-What are you doing-Where are-"

"Take it easy, Chris. That hit on your head was quite a knock."

"The dog did that?"

Jared makes a face-some kind of weird expression that I don't get-then shakes his head. "That wasn't any ordinary dog."

"Are there any ordinary dogs around here?"

He just laughs and then hands me a cup again.

"Drink it. If I were here to hurt you I would have already done so."

I hold it.

"Drink."

So I do. The warm liquid that is probably tea, though it might also be Dream Juice, not only tastes wonderful but seems to both revive me and warm me up.

"Let me tell you a story, Chris."

"About what?"

"About my father. About his disappearance."

He pauses, looks at the door as if someone might be coming in at any minute.

"This could happen to you, too. So listen carefully."

4. Trust.

"What do you know about my father?"

"Uncle Robert?"

Jared nods and waits for an answer. The cabin we're in only has a couple of windows, and they're iced over, so it appears to be the middle of the night in this darkened room. I can hear the purring of wind outside. I shiver as I start to feel my toes again.

How'd I get here? I blacked out and then-then what? I recall an engine. Like a motorcycle. Or maybe ...

"Did we ride a snowmobile to get here?" I ask.

"What else could we have ridden in this weather? I had to strap you around me to keep you from falling off."

Part of me thinks he's making that up, just like the fact that he's Uncle Robert's son.

"I didn't know-Mom didn't even know he had any children."

"He never quite got around to sending out a birth announcement, not to mention staying around after I was born. Calling him my father-well, that's stretching it a bit. I only learned his identity after I turned twenty-one. By then, it was too late."

"Too late for what?"

"He was already missing. That's why I want-why I need to know everything I can about him. I need your help."

There's a part of me that doesn't like this. That doesn't like sitting here in another cabin with someone else I don't know, wondering what exactly is going on.

At least there are no dogs around here.

I think back to Midnight, who was curled up in a ball when I left her.

"All I know is my mom and Uncle Robert lived around here when they were younger. They moved after their mother died. Moved to the Chicago area, where my mom stayed. According to her, Uncle Robert went off to college but dropped out after their father died."

"And you've never seen him since?"

"I remember seeing him a few times. A few weekends. I remember jet-skiing with him when we went up to Michigan. Doing stuff like that."

"Why'd you and your mom come back?"

"What happened to him?"

"Answer my question first," Jared says.

"I'm tired of not knowing anything around here."

"Look, Chris, I'm only trying to help."

"Then tell me-"

"I don't know." The voice echoes off the walls. "I have no idea. That's why I need your help. Anything you know about where he might have gone."

I think of the items I found in Uncle Robert's closet. The gun, the iPod, the zip drive.

Don't tell him too much.

"Have you talked to my mother?"

The guy shifts his eyes in a way that isn't too settling.

"No."

"Why don't you?"

"Listen, Chris, you might not believe anything I'm saying, and that's fine. I get it because of-because of everything. But I know. I know what happened to her."

"What happened to who?"

He shakes his head as if he's already tired of this conversation. Or of me.

"What happened to Jocelyn."

"You know?"

The guy curses. "Yeah. A lot of people around here know. But you're never going to hear about it again."

"We have to get out of here and tell somebody. Anybody."

"Is that what you were trying to do?"

"Yeah."

"Were you able to dial 9-1-1? Or shoot off an email to someone? Anyone?"

I shake my head. A knot seems to be forming on the back of my head.

"The town is in shut-down mode. It's been like this before."

"Shut-down mode."

"The snow's only made it easier. Listen to me-there's nothing you can do."

I start to go off about what I think we should do, but Jared interrupts me right away.

"There's nothing you can do now."

"We have to talk to my mom."

"We can't do that."

"Why?"

"Because she's with them."

The firelight in the cabin illuminates the partial scruff on his face. I see the earnest look in his eyes; a guy not much older than I am, staring at me for help and answers.

"Look, man, I understand," he says. "My mom couldn't handle stuff and moved right after telling me about my father. Sometimes I think-I don't know. I think that something really bad happened to her here. The way it happens to a lot of people around here."

For a moment I get up and hold the coffee mug as if it might be a weapon I'm going to need any second. "You're lying."

"Chris, sit down."

"You're just another person in this crazy town who's trying to lie to me."

"And why would I do that? Now, especially?" His voice is calm and assured. He waits for me to sit back down and listen to him. "They don't know about me. And maybe-I don't know. I'd like to think that somehow that's why my father had nothing to do with me. He was protecting me. Wishful thinking, maybe. I'm not trying to do anything here but help you and find my father."

I'm tired from the overload on my brain.

"What do you mean, Mom is with them?"

"She knows. She knows everything."

"She knows about Jocelyn?"

He nods. "I'm not saying she wanted it to happen. There are a lot of people around here who don't like what's happening, but they have to put up with it. She's probably protecting you."