The Shuddering

front of the door, waiting to be let out.
    “Don’t you dare,” Jane warned. “It could be a bear or something.”
    “It’s not a bear,” Ryan said. “They’re hibernating.”
    “Well, what else could it be?”
    “Hold on to her collar,” Ryan commanded.
    “What?”
    “Hold on to Oona’s collar,” he repeated. “I’m opening the door.”
    “Oh my god,” Lauren said from behind her hand.
    “No,” Jane protested, but she hooked her fingers beneath the husky’s collar anyway, knowing that if Ryan went through with it, Oona would be out that door before anyone could stop her. “Ryan, don’t,” she said. “What if it’s dangerous?”
    “The only thing dangerous out here are wolves, and they’re scared of people,” he insisted, throwing the dead bolt. “Did you put anything in the outside trash can? They probably smell food.”
    “Yeah,” Lauren said under her breath. “They smell food, as in us .”
    “I didn’t throw anything out,” Jane told him. “It’s all inside.”
    “If they’re scared of people, what’s the point?” Lauren asked. “Just leave it.”
    “They’re scared of people, but they may not be scared of dogs.”
    “So keep her inside!” Jane snapped, but the door swung open before she could insist any further. Oona tried to run, nearly jerking Jane’s shoulder out of its socket. She whined as her owner stepped outside in a short-sleeved T-shirt and stocking feet, hisbreath puffing out in front of him. Sawyer moved toward the door before a little plea escaped Jane’s throat. “Tom, stop.”
    Sawyer turned to look at her. She gave him a beseeching look, but before Sawyer had a chance to react—to either succumb to her request or defy her and step outside—Ryan was requesting his help.
    “Sawyer, there’s a flashlight in the laundry room,” he said. “Grab it, would you?”
    Sawyer offered Jane an apologetic frown before stepping past her, disappearing down the hall.
    “God,” Lauren groaned, shivering as the cold poured into the room. “This is like a goddamn horror movie.” She forced a laugh, but she sounded more spooked than she was letting on.
    Jane’s attention wavered to April, blinking when she noticed that the girl wasn’t looking out the window anymore, but was looking right at her— staring . Jane swallowed against the lump in her throat, her stomach sinking to the floor. Sawyer jogged back into the room, flashlight in hand, and stepped onto the patio. He swept the flashlight across the expanse of night, illuminating tree trunks and snow.
    “There,” he said, holding the light steady. A set of reflective animal eyes flashed in the distance, but they were too far away to identify.
    “We scared it off.” Ryan nearly sounded disappointed.
    “Damn.” Lauren snapped her fingers. “And here I was hoping we were all going to die.”
    “Get back inside,” Jane demanded. But the guys didn’t budge, still scouring the landscape like a couple of Boy Scouts. “Jesus, Ryan!” She was annoyed now. “Oona is about to take my arm off!”
    The guys rambled back inside and Ryan locked the door behind them. The air inside the room instantly grew warmer,and Jane let go of the husky before rolling her shoulder with a wince.
    “That was completely stupid. What if it had been something dangerous?”
    “Then it would have eaten me,” Ryan said. He pointed the flashlight at her, turning it off and on like a strobe. For a moment everyone was silent, and then both Sawyer and Lauren laughed while Jane continued to scowl, contemplating worst-case scenarios. Finally, Sawyer picked up his cue stick and broke the tension.
    “Rack ’em up, boys and girls,” he said. “Best two out of three.”
    Sawyer padded down the upstairs hallway with a glass of water in hand, passing every single door until he reached the room he and April were occupying. It was dark, everyone already in their rightful rooms, exhausted by a long day on the slopes. Sawyer had nearly cracked a joke about their room placement when Ryan had led them down the hall the day before, but he understood the reasoning behind it; nobody wanted to hear them get it on in the room next door. Had Jane still been with Alex, Sawyer would have wanted them as far away as possible—down the hall, if not in a motel room twenty-five miles away.
    April was already on the pullout sofa, Stoker’s Dracula in hand, the sheets pulled up to her chest, squinting at the pages with an exceptional sense of