3am

quiet place

I woke that night, stirred by the sound of the wind outside. It was loud against the wooden boards of the cabin, making it creak like a ship aboard the sea. But I had peace knowing that the gusts would give up by morning and the trees would breathe again in the still dawn.

I turned over in bed, shining the light of my wristwatch towards my side table. The outline of my empty drink bottle shone in the dull light, and I wet my lips with my tongue. I wondered about the kitchen then, and the nightly routine of the Directors that I knew didn't always involve locking its back door. They may have remembered that night, but it was the thought of the cold, crisp water I knew was kept in the walk-in fridge of that same kitchen that eventually gave me the courage to lift the warm sheets from myself and pull on my sneakers to go find out.

The wind was still blowing wild on the other side of the windows, and there was a chill that hung in the May night air that made my grasp tighten on the corners of the cabin door as I opened it. It pulled against me, but I hugged it close, gripping the neck of my bottle tightly between my fingers.

As soon as I stepped outside, the wind asked my long hair to dance, and it twirled above me like the boughs of the trees all around. I pulled my arms around myself, and worked my bare legs up the beaten path to the Cafeteria. By the time I reached the mossy stairs leading to the back door of the kitchen, my hair was knotted and flying behind me. I pushed down on the handle and it released under my hand. My sigh of relief was lost in the tempest as I slid through the door and into the dark room on the other side.

It was instantly quiet. With thick, white walls around me, I could barely tell the forest outside was continuing to descend into chaos. My breaths seemed unusually heavy as I combed my hair back from my face in relief, my fingers getting caught where it had tied itself together. My own breath over my dry tongue reminded me of my thirst, but it was dark in the kitchen, and I'd failed to reach for my torch when I seized my water bottle. I turned the display of my watch on instead, deciding that would have to do.

The tiny screen illuminated the large space in a dull, grey light – enough to spot the large refrigerator against the wall at the other end of the room. I strode across the tiled floor towards it, remembering vaguely that I considered myself afraid of the dark and should fear what I was doing, but I dismissed such thoughts as best I could for the thought of the refreshing reward for my bravery.

I was in the wide, chilly fridge for only a moment, enough to locate the water and take a bottle by the neck, before I let the door close and seal the cold back in. I didn't even bother pouring the cool water into my empty flask, only twisted off the cap and brought the bottle to my lips.

It was at the very moment the freezing water glided over my tongue that the back door opened again, and a bright light shone towards me mid-drink. I tried not to choke with surprise as I lowered the bottle and brought a hand up to shield my eyes.

"What are you doing?" A deep, male voice asked me from behind the torchlight.

"Ah... Can you put that thing down? You're going to blind me."

He lowered it down to his side, but kept it on, it's beam shining along the shiny tiles between us. "You do know the kitchen is closed, correct?"

I recognised the face that came out of the darkness. It was Max, the guy who headed up the climbing program, and oversaw pretty much all the outdoor stuff. 28 years old and full-blown Texan, the guy was conceited and didn't do people very well. At least, that's what I had picked up from watching him for 4 weeks.

Max came across as stubborn, which most of the other staff were affronted by, and in every activity, always presented himself as too occupied with whatever he was doing to fully engage. Ever since he didn't laugh at my funniest joke during the first week of Staff Training, I'd been trying to crack him.