Bitter Cold Read Online Free PDF Page B

to Dead Man’s Dump! Everyone else is there!”
    April knew right away Jeff wanted nothing to do with the boy’s idea.
    “What’s wrong with this hill?” he asked, scanning the sloping field.
    The boy protested. “This hill’s lame! Come on. Please can we go to the Dump?”
    “No. Now stop. You know I don’t want you going over there.”
    “Actually, he has a point,” April nudged Jeff’s side. The ‘hill,’ as he so liberally called it, seemed nothing more than a hump in the ground. “What’s Dead Man’s Dump, anyway?”
    “It’s a box canyon. Over there,” he gestured with his head toward some white-capped fir trees. “Damn near a cliff. It’s dangerous, and kids aren’t supposed to play there!” he yelled that last part so Logan could hear.
    “You used to, hypocrite,” his son stared. With a running start, he plopped the Flexible Flyer onto the powder and pushed. After several strides, he threw himself aboard, traveling a total of thirty feet.
    “That is pretty lame,” joked April. “So tell me. Why’s it called Dead Man’s Dump? Don’t tell me someone actually died there.”
    Jeff regarded her up and down. Behind his green eyes, she perceived his mind working overtime. “As a matter of fact, people did die. A teenager and a…a boy. My friend. But that was a long time ago, and I don’t like to talk about it.”
    “Eddy Mitchell?” Logan reached the top of the hill and prepared for another run. 
    “I said I don’t talk about it!”
    “Then tell her about that kid in 1890! Daniel Applegate!” Logan made another anemic downhill run on his sled.
    “1890?” April sounded intrigued. “Now you have to tell me everything. Except about your friend, of course. If you don’t want.”
    He cleared his throat. “Tell you everything, huh? Well, in 1890, Daniel Applegate was the son of a big boss for the Pacific Fur Company. Daniel was about, oh, fifteen or so, and he was with his dad at a small fur trapping outpost near here, when he decides to take a walk all by himself one winter night—in weather a lot like this, as a matter of fact.”
    “Tell her, Dad,” Logan urged, giving up on the sledding. “Tell her the gross part.”
    He flashed an annoyed look. “Let me tell the story. Anyway, so this kid, not much older than Logan, really, goes outside in a snowstorm to take a leak and doesn’t come back.”
    “Oh, no!” April covered her mouth.
    “Yeah. So of course they go looking for him. Franticly. I mean he’s a boss’s kid, so you can only imagine the panic. They look all night and can’t find him. They fear the worst, and they’re right. When the sun comes up and they get a better look at the forest, they finally find him, or what’s left of him, down there at the bottom of the canyon. His body wasn’t much more than shreds of meat on bone. The only way they knew it was him was by his dad’s gold watch, the chain still as shiny as ever in his blood-soaked coat pocket.”
    “Wild,” April’s teeth chattered. “Did they ever find out what happened?”
    “They figured it was an animal. Mountain lion or bear.”
    “I think it was something else,” Logan raised an eyebrow, his red cheeks becoming redder. “I think it was a monster. There was a curse on Dead Man’s Dump, a hex from something bad that happened there. The boy was killed because of that curse, because he or his dad did something wrong.”
    Jeff glared at his son.
    “Why do you think that?” she asked Logan.
    He glanced at his dad. Jeff rolled his eyes and Logan answered. “There are stories of some kinda massacre. Cowboys and Indians and stuff.”
    “Native Americans,” Jeff corrected him. “And besides, it wasn’t cowboys, it was the U.S. Calvary. Those are all just legends, though. This area’s full of old legends like that, most of them are bullshit.”
    “Okay, now I’ve gotta see this place,” April rubbed her hands. “Come on. Let’s just take a look.”
    “Now you?” Jeff crossed his