Just then the door sprang open and Tyler Allen Ceballo burst into the trailer. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he fumed, spit flying from his lips along with the words.

“Leaving!” said Droine. “I’m gettin’ out while I still can.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” The words were a statement, as if it were a fact that could not be challenged or argued no matter what the reasoning.

“The hell you say!” shouted Droine. “I don’t know what those things are, but they’re nothing human, that’s for damn sure. I stared one down, face to face. It had different colored eyes, the smell of blood on its breath, and one of its hands went all the way around my neck. It could have killed me if it had wanted to, and if we stay here any longer it’s going to want to. Guaranteed.”

The loggers who’d been thinking of leaving with Droine seemed to be leaning toward the door. Droine had been one of the best in the crew for years, and if he’d been spooked, there was definitely something out there to be afraid of, even if it wasn’t exactly the way he described it.

“They’re just messing with us,” Ceballo said, his voice straddling the line between comfort and pleading. “They’ve got some Native spouting off about angry spirits. He’s good, I gotta give him that, but he’s an actor, for crying out loud. Then they get some of the locals to put on fur suits and run around like they’re ‘angry spirits’.” He was smiling now, as if the whole thing was some big joke. “I mean, c’mon, we’ve been through this sort of thing before. It’s a battle of public opinion. People get angry at first, but once we spread a little money around, and talk about jobs, they always come around.”

Droine looked unconvinced.

“Locals in fur suits for crying out loud! C’mon men, we don’t scare that easily.”

“Speak for yourself,” Droine said.

“Hey, nobody’s been hurt.” It was a statement, but somehow there was an air of desperation to it, as if Ceballo knew he was losing ground and was pulling out all the stops to convince his men to stay.

“Yet!” said Droine. “This one isn’t like the others. There’s something on this land that people are willing to go to an awful lot of trouble to protect, and it’s only a matter of time before someone gets hurt. Bad.” He glared at Ceballo. “It might even be you.”

“If you leave now, Droine, you can’t come back,” Ceballo said.

“There are other sites. The company’s got plenty of work right now.”

Ceballo shook his head. “No, it’s not going to work like that. You leave now, you’re gone. Out! Fired!”

Droine looked unsure. Ceballo might be bluffing.