Chapter 3: Skinwalkers and Silent Betrayal

Earl said excitedly, “Mr. Walker, there’s gold in a cave! Dave even brought back two nuggets. Let’s go get it now!” He waved his arms, barely able to stand still.

Grandpa acted like he hadn’t heard, didn’t even look at him. He just stared at Dave, eyes narrowed, searching his face for something he didn’t like. His gaze was like a knife.

Dave looked away, avoiding Grandpa’s eyes. He forced a laugh. “Mr. Walker, the gold’s in the cave. Everyone wants to go get it.”

Grandpa looked at the others, voice cold enough to freeze water. “You all got a death wish? It’s snowing so hard you can’t see your hand in front of your face. That thing left the gold to lure you out. Out in the snow, it can eat you and nobody’ll ever know.” He paused, letting the words sink in.

As soon as he finished, Dave glared at him with pure hatred, like he wanted to rip Grandpa apart with his bare hands. The look was so raw it made my stomach twist. I looked away, unable to meet Dave’s eyes.

The others were rattled, fear written all over their faces. For a second, the gold didn’t matter—only getting home alive did. My own fear drowned out everything else.

Earl asked, voice trembling, “Mr. Walker, you saying that thing’s really that smart?” He sounded like he was hoping for a lie.

Grandpa said, annoyed, “That thing’s been around longer than any of us. It’s clever. It knows there’s a bunch of us, so it won’t come in here. That’s why it leaves gold to tempt you out. In the snow, you can’t see a thing. That’s when it’ll get you.”

When he finished, Dave snapped, “Mr. Walker, there’s a mountain of gold out there. Just one nugget would set you up for life. While that thing’s not around, we should grab some—nothing’ll happen.”

Earl agreed, “Yeah, just one’s enough for a lifetime. We won’t have to scrape by anymore. I say we take the risk.”

Their eyes were shining with greed, the firelight flickering across their faces, making them look like strangers. I barely recognized them.

Grandpa kicked Earl hard and barked, “Idiot! You got a death wish? Go start the fire.” He pointed to the woodpile, face stormy.

Earl grumbled but didn’t dare argue. He squatted and started working on the fire, striking matches with shaking hands. The first two broke, the third finally caught.

Everyone gathered around the flames, the warmth chasing some of the fear from their bones, but not all of it. I hugged my knees to my chest, shivering.

Grandpa stared at Dave for a while, then said, meaningfully, “Dave, life’s worth more than gold. Wait ‘til the snow stops.”

Dave glared at Grandpa, then forced a smile. “Whatever you say, Mr. Walker.” His voice was tight, almost mocking.

He joined the others by the fire, hands stretched out, eyes never resting. He kept glancing at the door, like he was waiting for something.

Outside, the snow was coming down even harder, wind howling like it wanted to tear the roof off. The sound rattled your teeth, and you could feel the cold pressing in from every direction. I wrapped my coat tighter.

Old Pete asked anxiously, “When’s this storm gonna let up?” He rubbed his hands together, glancing at the window.

Earl said, “Hopefully by morning.” He didn’t sound convinced.

The group dug into the sandwiches and jerky they’d brought, passing around a battered thermos of coffee. The food tasted like sawdust, but nobody complained. Everyone chewed in silence.

The cabin was deep, the walls thick enough to keep out the wind, so it was pretty warm. The fire crackled, and the shadows danced across the log walls. The orange glow flickered over tired faces.

They huddled close, sharing what warmth they could, trading nervous glances, listening to the storm. The wind sounded like it was trying to claw its way inside.

Grandpa said, “We’re staying put tonight. Everybody stay alert.”

Everyone nodded, even Dave, though his eyes never stopped moving. He looked like he was counting heads.

It was still snowing, night settling in, the storm showing no sign of letting up. The wind moaned around the eaves, and the cabin felt smaller with every passing hour. My chest felt tight.

They lay down to sleep, some on old bunks, others on the floor, wrapped in blankets and coats. The air was thick with exhaustion and dread.

I curled up next to Grandpa, burying my face in his coat, trying to block out the sounds of the storm and the fear in my chest. My heart thudded in my ears.

Late that night, I heard footsteps. I opened my eyes and saw Dave and Earl sneaking toward the door, moving quiet as cats. But Dave’s back had split open, thick white fur showing underneath, writhing and shifting in the firelight. My breath caught in my throat.

I nearly screamed, but Grandpa clapped a hand over my mouth. His palm was rough and warm, and I could feel his heart pounding through his sleeve. I froze, barely daring to breathe.

He motioned for me to stay quiet, finger pressed to his lips, eyes wide with warning. His whole body was tense.

Only after Dave and Earl left did Grandpa let go. The door creaked shut behind them, swallowed by the howl of the wind. The silence that followed was deafening.

I gasped, legs shaking so bad I thought I might faint. My teeth chattered, but not from the cold. My skin prickled with terror.

I whispered, “Grandpa, what did I just see?”

Grandpa’s voice was grim, barely more than a breath. “That was the thing. It ate Dave and put on his skin. Earl’s probably done for.”

I whispered, voice trembling, “Grandpa, I’m scared.” I clung to his sleeve.

He patted my head and whispered, “Don’t be afraid. When the snow stops, we’ll go home. Try to sleep.”

I pressed close to him, scared I’d be dragged away by that monster, listening to the wind and the distant sound of something moving in the woods. Every creak made me jump.

Early the next morning, just as it was getting light, Earl said excitedly, “Last night, Dave and I went for the gold. I brought back four nuggets.” He waved his hand, holding them high.

He pulled out four heavy, gleaming pieces, holding them up for everyone to see. They caught the pale morning light, shining like something out of a dream. My mouth watered.

The others’ eyes went glassy with greed. For a moment, nobody moved, just stared at the gold. The whole room was silent.

Dave grinned, “I got four more too—enough for a lifetime.” His voice was low, like he was sharing a secret.

Earl said, “Dave, I want more. There were jewels in that cave too, but we left in a hurry. What a waste.” He shook his head, eyes never leaving the gold.

Dave’s eyes narrowed, a mean glint in them. “Yeah, I want those jewels too.” His lips curled into a sneer.

Old Pete chimed in, voice trembling with excitement, “Dave, I wanna go with you.” He gripped the edge of his chair, knuckles white.

Everyone stared at Dave, itching to get at the gold, their fear swallowed up by greed. The air in the room was thick, charged.

Dave grinned, “There’s plenty more in that cave. Whoever wants in, come along.” He nodded, eyes flicking from face to face.

Everyone nodded, eager for their share, waiting for Dave to lead the way. The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on. My breath came short and fast.

The snow was lighter now, but still falling, the storm beginning to break. The world outside was pale and quiet, but danger still lurked in the drifts. I shivered, not sure if it was from cold or fear.

Dave looked at Grandpa and asked, “Mr. Walker, you coming with us?” His voice was smooth, too smooth, and his smile didn’t reach his eyes. I felt a chill run through me.