All it took was a patch of black ice to send our Bluestar bus careening into a tree.

I’d been trying to sleep. But between the guy snoring behind me, the jostling bumps, and the driver’s radio, it wasn’t gonna happen. Twelve inches of snow expected… manhunt continues for Sterling inmate… heeeeere’s the traffic report—

CRUNCH.

My head smacked into the window.

Then everything went black.

When I opened my eyes, I was aware of only two things: the throbbing in my head, and the cold. My entire body was freezing, like I’d fallen asleep outside.

Where am I?

Oh, no…

I pushed myself up—

“Oh, you’re awake, thank God.” Harry rushed to my side, wrapping his arms around me. “Are you okay? How’s your head?”

“It hurts,” I groaned. “Is… is everyone okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, we’re all scratched up and stuff, but… no one’s seriously hurt.”

I glanced around the bus. There was a teenage girl with blood running down her face, crying in her boyfriend’s arms. An older lady who’d clearly had too many lip fillers, staring out the window with a glassy look. A white dude scrolling on his phone as if nothing happened, and a muscular bearded guy with a Jason Momoa vibe near the front.

“Did somebody call—”

“Yeah. But it’s going to be hours,” he said with a sigh. “The storm’s gotten worse. They have to come up the mountain in a Snowcat.”

“What time is it?”

“A little before three.”

I pulled my coat on, zipping it up to my neck until it wouldn’t go anymore. It’s so cold. I had no idea how I was going to be able to stay here like this—head throbbing, body shivering—for hours. I looked out the windshield. The front of the bus was crumpled beyond recognition. It was a miracle the driver lived. And beyond the bus… The sky was deep gray, heavy with snow, as snowflakes steadily fell against the dark trees.

“Uh, everyone… we have a problem,” the driver called from the front.

“No shit we have a problem!” the bearded guy snapped. “We’re stranded here, with no food or water, in the middle of a blizzard. All because you weren’t paying attention!”

“Hey, shut it. We all make mistakes. No one got hurt,” Harry said next to me.

“Speak for yourself,” the lip filler woman replied, rubbing her temple. “I think I have a concussion!”

“We’re going to die out here,” the teenage girl wailed.

“Quiet!” the driver screamed. And there was something in his voice—a note of panic—that set us all absolutely silent.

“Now, you listen to me very carefully,” he said in a low voice. Barely above a whisper. “I drive this route all the time… and I know the woods around here are dangerous. It’s just woods for miles and miles, and people see that as an opportunity. Hikers go missing. There’s cult activity. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes—people throwing branches across the road to make you stop, but they’re hiding in the bushes to ambush you.” He paused, swallowed, and rubbed his hands together. “And I think we have, um… found ourselves in one of those types of situations.”

“What… what are you talking about?” I stuttered.

The driver got out of his seat and walked towards the bus door, shards of windshield snapping under his feet. “Look.”

Slowly, one-by-one, the seven of us got out of our seats. The doors were open, ice-cold wind whipping inside. For fuck’s sake. That’s why it’s so cold in here. I opened my mouth to yell at the driver to close the door—

And then I saw it.

Footprints in the snow.

A single trail of them, leading from the darkness of the woods to the bus doors.

“Someone got on this bus after we crashed. Must’ve snuck in right after, when most of us were knocked out or trying to get our wounds fixed up.” The driver lowered his voice to a whisper. “Someone is on the bus, right now. I don’t know if they’re hiding under the seats somewhere, or in the bathroom, or what. And I… I don’t know what we should do. If we go into the woods, there might be more of them. But if we stay here, we might all die.” His stern expression faded, and he sucked in a shuddering breath. “God, I’ve got a little three-year-old at home. I can’t…”

He leaned against the crushed steering wheel, head in his hands.

The seven of us looked at each other. I squeezed Harry’s hand, my heart pounding in my chest. They probably just want our money. We’ll hand over our wallets, and then the police will be here…

This was supposed to be our second chance. One last shot at fixing our marriage, at finding what we’d lost. Now it felt like Fate was laughing at us. No way in hell you’re getting a second chance.

“Lock the doors. It’s eight against one,” the angry bearded guy said, breaking the silence. “We can take ‘im.”

“What if he’s got a gun, smartass?” the lip filler woman shot back.

“Kind of sexist to assume it’s a guy,” the phone dude said.

“I don’t want to die,” the teenage girl sobbed.

“Wait,” he said. He looked up at us, his eyes wide in the darkness. “Oh. No, no, no.”

“What is it?” I asked, a weight sinking in my chest.

“I only scanned six tickets.” One, two, three, he mouthed, as he counted us again. “There—there are seven of you. But only six…” His face grew even paler. “Oh, God, it’s—it’s one of you.”

What the fuck?

I looked at the other passengers, my heart pounding. But as my eyes settled on each of their faces, I honestly couldn’t tell you whether they’d been riding with us or not. Teenage couple, lip filler woman, bearded guy, phone dude… I’d been trying to sleep most of the trip—and so had everybody else, I think. The interior lights had been off, and the bus was pretty dark.

The bearded guy straightened, towering over us. “So who is it, then? We’ll play nice. Give you our wallets and everything. Just don’t hurt us, and this will all play out smooth.”

Silence.

“I think it’s that guy,” the lip filler woman said, pointing to the guy glued to his phone. “He doesn’t look hurt.”

“Dude? Seriously?” He looked up at us, and I could tell he was young, no more than 25. “My thumb is fucked up. I can barely text!"

The teenage girl locked eyes with me. Then she lifted a shaking finger—and pointed it right at me.

“You.”

“What? You think I’m it?”

“No. I mean, I remember you.” Her young, pretty features tightened into a scowl. “You were really rude. You literally threw your bag on top of mine. I have designer boots in here, and they might be crushed because you don’t care about other people, and you probably don’t even care if I die out here and—”

“Stop!” Harry shouted. “That’s good, that you remember her. That’s a fact that we can use. Does anyone else remember anyone else?”

“He was snoring behind me,” the teenage boyfriend said, pointing at the bearded guy. “It was really annoying.”

“Anyone else?”

Silence.

“Wait. Hang on. We can look everyone up on Facebook, can’t we? Verify their identity?” I asked. I pulled out my phone—and my heart dropped. “Shit. No service.”

“It’s a miracle we got a call through the cops at all,” the lip filler woman said.

I looked at the six other passengers. Harry’s my husband, so he’s out. The teenage couple—they vouch for each other, don’t they? Assuming the person isn’t some memory-altering demon out of a horror movie.

That left phone dude, bearded guy, and lip filler woman.

Three people.

One of them lying.

It was true that despite phone dude’s protests, he was the least hurt of the three. He looked young and innocent, but you can’t judge a book by its cover.

I looked at lip filler woman. Her face… her face was weird. That was the only way to describe it. I’d assumed it was the plastic surgery, but maybe not. There was something off about her whole eye area. And her face remained mostly expressionless this entire time…

Was it lots of Botox?

Or—could she be wearing a mask?

I stared at her neck, looking for a seam. But in the dim lighting, I couldn’t make anything out.

Then there was bearded guy. He was intimidating. And he seemed like a ball of angry energy, ready to explode at any time. The blood on his sleeve didn’t mean anything—there was blood everywhere. He could’ve just wiped some on to make it look good.

He seemed like the obvious choice, but then again, the teenager vouched for him.

“Maybe we should just go into the woods,” I whispered to Harry. “Get away from everyone.”

“You heard the driver. He said there might be more of them out there.”

“But staying in here—”

“It’s seven against one.”

“But why aren’t they doing anything yet? If they just wanted to rob us… they would’ve done it by now.” I shuddered. “It’s like they’re playing with us.”

“You can go out alone, if you want. But I’m staying here.”

“I’m not going to—”

“Well, I’m not going to die because of your stupidity!”

There it was. The temper that had grown with each passing year of our marriage. I wanted to yell and scream at him, but I already knew that never worked. Instead I stared at the windshield, blinking away tears.

Small flakes flurried down, collecting in at the bottom of the windshield. Beyond was the stretch of road carving up the mountain, now pure white. The set of footprints leading out the door, their edges softened by the layer of fresh snow.

And… something else.

A lump. Just off the side of the road, at the border of the woods. Something about it caught my eye—even though, in the darkness and the snow, I couldn’t make out any detail. It was like it didn’t belong, like it clashed with the natural landscape.

And was that… a trail of footprints… leading up to it?

I narrowed my eyes, trying to parse what I was seeing. Had someone already left the bus? Gone out and come back? Was one of the passengers in on this whole thing?

And was that… blood… in the snow?

“Guys. Guys, look.” I pointed out the windshield. My head throbbed as my heart began to pound, and I felt lightheaded. “Out there—there’s a trail of blood—and something…”

The voices died down behind me. “Oh my God,” the teenage girl whispered. Other mutters too—what is that? Is that blood?

Black spots danced in my eyes. I grabbed the driver’s seat to keep my balance—

It was wet.

I pulled my hand away to see thick, red blood staining my fingers. What…? I looked down. The driver’s seat was drenched in blood.

But the driver—

His clothes were dry.

No…

“It’s the driver!” I screamed, backing away. “It’s him!”

At first he didn’t say anything.

Then he slowly turned around. And when I saw his face, my blood ran cold.

He was smiling.

Chaos erupted. I lunged for the door—but as soon as I stepped down, something yanked my arm back. My entire body jolted, my head screaming in pain. I whipped around to see the man, his fingers gripping me tight.

“Not so fast,” he growled, his grin growing wider.

But then in a blur of color, Harry slugged him in the face. His grip loosened and I tumbled to the ground. Snow seared my skin, the ice cold burning my fingers, seeping through my pants.

Quickly the others raced out. The teenage couple, the woman, one of the guys. The bearded man joined Harry in trying to subdue the guy, trying to tackle him to the ground.

“Run!” Harry shouted, locking eyes with me. “Run!”

After a moment’s hesitation, I ran. The others followed, and we all ran deeper into the forest, terrified. We kept the road in our sight, and after a few hours of wandering, we spotted the lights of the Snowcat coming up the mountain.

As we ran, though, I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d heard on the radio. While I’d been trying to sleep. Manhunt continues for Sterling inmate.

Was that him?

By the time the police arrived, all three men were gone. They haven’t been found. I’d like to think they’re alive somewhere. That in a few days, Harry will come home. But I know, deep down, that’s not the case.

The police did find the body of our real driver, though.

At the end of the bloody footprints in the snow.