“We’re at the original resort,” I told them. “Back before it was called Cervigno. Back when the lodge was located here, on the back side of the mountain, rather than where it is now.”
Jeremy took a step closer, and my heart started beating that much faster.
“Are you saying we’re on the opposite side of the mountain?”
“Yes.”
“Clear across from where we should be.”
“Exactly.”
“And you know this… how?”
His question wasn’t the least bit snide or rude or condescending. He was asking it out of genuine interest, rather than challenge.
“My parents came here,” I sighed, “a long time ago. Back in the 70’s or 80’s. Back before they shut this place down and built the new one.” I couldn’t look at Shane anymore — he was just too pretty. Still hyper-aware of those stunning blue eyes on me, I turned to Jeremy. “I had some dog-eared trail map,” I said. “My father gave it to me before we left. Well, he gave it to Faith, actually. And she…”
My heart sank as I thought of Faith again. Jeremy looked wholly confused.
“Faith is her friend,” Shane explained. “She lost her on the trail, back when… you know…”
“Oh shit,” Jeremy swore. He finally looked down. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I said quickly. “Faith is fine — she was way ahead of me. And if I survived, I’m sure she made it.”
My confidence was probably misguided, but it was all I had so I clung to it. It was still my best hope of seeing my friend again.
“Yeah, sure,” Jeremy said sullenly. “Makes sense.”
“Anyway, this place was built in the 1920’s or 30’s. It’s old. It was called something else first… I think something with a ‘A’, or maybe an ‘F’ or—
“Alta Fiume.”
Shane and I both turned toward Jeremy, who only nodded.
“It’s written on an old sign above the front desk,” he said. “In Italian, it means—”
“High River,” I finished for him.
Jeremy grinned at me and nodded, looking obviously impressed. I blushed beneath his scrutiny like the schoolgirl I was. Truth be told, I was just as impressed. If not more so.
“Does the front desk happen to have a telephone?” Shane asked.
“Bro, come look at this place,” said Jeremy. “It’s old. We’re lucky there’s even a front desk at all.”
He led us backwards, deeper into the old hotel. It was probably just a figment of my imagination, but everything seemed colder. Darker.
Spookier.
“Damn,” Shane swore. “Just look at this place…”
To call the hotel old was an understatement. Everything about it was ancient, from the peeling turn-of-last-century wallpaper to the smooth, worn finishes that were cracked with age. Three-story columns rocketed skyward, looking bowed and strained under the weight of the roof. The front desk was likewise spider-webbed with deep fissures and crevasses.
“Look,” I said, pointing. A huge, sweeping fireplace dominated the back end of the lobby. At one time it was probably magnificent. Now it was a frost-covered hunk of petrified wood and marble. “Maybe we could—”
“Did you lead us down one of the trails on your old trail map?” asked Shane suddenly.
I nodded without thinking much of it. A half-second later, my eyes went wide.