Chapter 2: Gold and Shadows in the Cabin

Grandpa said, “Who knows how long this snow’ll last. We might have to spend the night. We need firewood. Who’s coming with me?”

The snow outside was coming down even harder, wind howling like a freight train through the pines. The cold was biting at any skin you left uncovered, and it felt like the whole world had shrunk down to just the inside of that truck.

The others glanced around but kept quiet, nobody wanting to step outside. You could see the fear in their eyes—nobody wanted to be the first out in the open. I could feel my own pulse in my throat.

Grandpa sighed, shoulders slumping just a little. “Fine, I’ll do it myself.” He reached for the door, determination etched in every line of his face.

Just then, Mark Jefferson—the biggest guy in town—spoke up. “Mr. Walker, I’ll go with you. Too risky to go alone.”

Mark was tall and broad-shouldered, the kind of guy you wanted on your side, whether it was a fight or a blizzard. He grabbed his gloves, nodded to Grandpa, and squared his shoulders.

Grandpa nodded back. Before leaving, he turned and said, “Nobody leaves the cabin. Not for any reason. You hear me?” His eyes swept the group, daring anyone to argue.

The Snow Devil wouldn’t dare come inside. It was pure white—inside, it’d stick out like a sore thumb. That’s what the old stories said, anyway. I needed to believe them right then.

Everyone stayed huddled up, waiting. The air was thick with fear. Every creak of the cabin made us jump. The wind rattled the windows. The floorboards groaned under our feet. My breath came in short, shallow bursts.

Grandpa and Mark hadn’t been gone long when there was a commotion at the door—boots thumping, something heavy bumping against the frame.

We saw Dave stumble in. His face was covered in snow, the skin on his lower leg scraped raw—he looked like hell. His clothes were torn, breath coming in ragged gasps, each one clouding the air. My stomach twisted.

The others jumped, startled, some backing away, others just staring. Earl’s mouth dropped open, and he stammered, “You… you’re not dead?”

Dave glanced at Earl, a greedy flicker in his eyes that vanished quick, replaced by something colder. He slumped against the wall, looking weak. “I almost died, but I got away.”

His voice sounded off, like something was stuck in his throat. His eyes kept darting around, sizing us up, always watching—like he was scheming or hunting. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, prickling with dread.

I couldn’t help staring. Suddenly, he noticed and turned, locking eyes with me. His gaze was sharp, almost hungry.

The second our eyes met, a chill shot down my spine. I felt like I was being looked through, not at. All I felt was terror—raw, pure fear, like I was standing on thin ice and could hear it cracking beneath me.

Dave’s eyes seemed to glow, like there was something hiding behind them that wasn’t human. That wasn’t the Dave I knew. It was like staring at a total stranger—a stranger wearing Dave’s face.

I only looked at him for a second before my hands started shaking. I couldn’t help it. I was scared—so scared I could barely breathe.

Dave seemed to notice. The corner of his mouth curled in a mocking grin, then vanished, like he was letting me in on a private joke.

He looked away and stared at the others, eyes flickering with something cold. Calculating.

Earl asked, surprised, “How’d you escape? Nobody ever comes back alive from that thing. You must be the luckiest guy alive.” He shook his head, disbelief all over his face.

Everyone crowded around, wanting to know how he’d made it. They peppered him with questions, voices overlapping, hands reaching out to touch his arm, hoping some of his luck would rub off on them. “What happened?” “How’d you get away?” “Was it really the Snow Devil?”

Dave’s eyes flickered with something sly, but it was gone in a blink. He grinned, showing too many teeth. “That thing dragged me into a cave, then it ran off. Guess what I saw in there?”

Everyone looked at him, curious, leaning in closer, hungry for the next part of the story. Nobody even blinked.

Earl urged, “Dave, quit stalling. What’d you see?” He nudged Dave, eyes glued to his hands.

Dave squinted, dug into his jacket, and pulled out two big gold nuggets. The gold was the size of goose eggs, heavy in his palm, catching the firelight and throwing it back in yellow sparks. My breath caught.

He grinned wider. “I saw a mountain of gold! At least a thousand pounds. I was in a hurry to get out, so I just grabbed these two. There’s a ton more. When we get back to town, we’ll tell everyone, and the whole county can come get it.”

The others’ eyes went huge, shock written all over their faces. For a second, you could almost see the dreams spinning behind their eyes—new trucks, big houses, freedom from bills and worry. It was like hope and greed hit them all at once.

Earl said eagerly, “Dave, let me see that gold.” He reached out, hands shaking with excitement.

Dave handed it over. Earl bit down, leaving a tooth mark. He gasped, “Gold! It’s real!”

Everyone crowded around, passing the nuggets from hand to hand, weighing them, testing them. Their voices grew louder, more excited. “Let me see!” “Is it real?” “We’re rich!” The room buzzed with the kind of greed that makes folks do stupid things.

Old Pete Martin asked, excited, “Dave, you remember where that cave is?” He leaned in, eyes wide, fingers twitching.

Dave nodded. “It’s close—just a couple hundred yards down the ridge.” He flashed a grin, like he was already counting the money.

The others lit up, grinning, eyes shining in the firelight. You could almost taste the gold in the air. My mouth went dry.

Everyone wanted to get their hands on that gold. The whole cabin felt like it was holding its breath. Nobody moved.

Earl said, “If it’s that close, we can get there and back in no time. Why don’t we go now? Just us, we’ll split it.” He looked around, voice low, like he was sharing a secret.

They all looked at each other, greed and fear wrestling in their eyes. Nobody said a word, but you could feel the answer building. The silence was thick.

Dave’s eyes narrowed, a sly glint in them. He pretended to hesitate. “Earl, the wind and snow are rough right now. It’s not safe. If we run into that thing, we’re done for.”

Earl sneered, “You gotta risk it to get rich. I ain’t scared.” He puffed out his chest, trying to look brave.

He looked around. “Who’s coming with me?” He slapped his thigh, eager as a kid on Christmas.

They glanced at each other, then nodded, one after another, like dominos falling. The lure of gold was too much. I could feel the greed pulsing in the room.

Old Pete said, “Gold landing in our laps—why not take it?” He shrugged, but his eyes were hungry. My gut twisted.

Earl said, “Dave, you lead the way, we’ll follow.” He stepped forward, bouncing on his toes, ready to go.

Just then, Grandpa and Mark came back, arms loaded with dry branches. Their boots were caked in snow, faces red from the cold, beards and eyebrows frosted over. They looked rough, like they’d been fighting the mountain itself. Grandpa stomped his boots, shaking off the cold.

Grandpa dumped the branches and asked, voice hard as ice, “Where do y’all think you’re going?” He set his jaw, eyes flicking from face to face.