Doug turned to look at the other buildings. “Maybe we should take a look at what’s inside those other houses,” he said.

THE FOUR OF THEM walked in single file toward the next house, Doug leading the way as he always did, breaking a path through deep snow. They mounted the front steps. Like the house they’d slept in the night before, this one had a porch with an identical swing.

“You think maybe they got a volume discount?” said Arlo. “Buy eleven swings, we throw in the twelfth for free?”

Maura thought of the glassy-eyed woman in the family photo. Imagined a whole village of pale and silent women sitting in these swings, mechanically rocking back and forth like windup dolls. Clone houses, clone people.

“This door’s unlocked, too,” said Doug, and he pushed it open.

Just inside lay a toppled chair.

For a moment, they paused on the threshold, puzzling over that fallen chair. Doug picked it up and set it upright. “Well, that’s sort of weird.”

“Look,” said Arlo. He crossed toward the framed portrait hanging on the wall. “It’s the same guy.”

The morning light spilled down in a heavenly beam on the man’s upward-gazing face, as though God Himself approved of his piety. Studying the portrait, Maura saw other details she hadn’t noticed before. The backdrop of golden wheat behind him. The white peasant shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, as though he had been laboring in the fields. And his eyes, piercing and ebony black, staring into some distant eternity.

“And he shall gather the righteous,” said Arlo, reading the plaque mounted on the frame. “I wonder who this guy is, anyway? And why does everyone seem to have his portrait hanging in their house?”

Maura spotted what looked like a Bible lying open on the coffee table. She flipped it closed and saw the title, embossed in gold on the leather cover.

Words of Our Prophet

The Wisdom of The Gathering

“I think this is some sort of religious community,” she said. “Maybe he’s their spiritual leader.”

“That would explain a few things,” said Doug. “The lack of electricity. The simplicity of their lifestyle.”

“The Amish in Wyoming?” said Arlo.

“A lot of people these days seem to crave a simpler life. And you could find that here, in this valley. Grow your own food, shut out the world. No TV, no temptations from the outside.”

Elaine laughed. “If showers and electric lights are works of the devil, then sign me up for hell.”

Doug turned. “Let’s see the rest of the house.”

They moved down the hall, into the kitchen, and found the same pine cabinets and wood-burning stove, the same hand pump for water that they’d seen in the first house. Here, too, the window was open, but a screen had kept out the snow, allowing in only the wind and a few sparkling motes. Elaine crossed the room to shut the window, and suddenly gasped.

“What?” Doug asked.

She backed away, pointing at the sink. “Something-there’s something dead in there!”

As Maura moved closer, she saw the butcher knife, its blade smeared with blood. In the sink were frozen splatters of more blood and mounds of gray fur. “They’re rabbits,” she said, and pointed to a bowl of peeled potatoes sitting nearby. “I think someone was about to cook them.”

Arlo laughed. “Good going, Salinger. Scare the bejesus out of us over someone’s dinner.”

“So what happened to the cook?” Elaine was still hanging back, as though the carcasses in the sink could reanimate into something dangerous. “She’s about to skin the rabbits and then what? She just walks away and leaves them here?” Elaine looked around at their faces. “Someone answer that. Give me one logical explanation.”

“Maybe she’s dead,” said a soft voice. “Maybe they’re all dead.”

They turned to see Grace standing in the doorway. They had not heard her come into the house. She stood hugging herself, shivering in the frigid kitchen.

“What if they’re all lying under the snow, like that dog? And we just can’t see them?”

“Grace, honey,” said Doug gently. “Go back to the other house.”

“I don’t want to be alone.”

“Elaine, can you walk her back?”

“What are you all going to do?” asked Elaine.

“Just take her, okay?” he snapped.

Elaine flinched at his tone. “All right, Doug,” she said tightly. “I’ll do whatever you say. Don’t I always?” She took Grace’s hand, and the two of them walked out of the kitchen.

Doug sighed. “Man, this keeps getting weirder.”

“What if Grace is right?” said Arlo.

“Not you, too.”

“Who knows what’s under all this snow? There could be bodies.”

“Shut up, Arlo.” Doug turned toward the garage door.

“Why does that seem to be everyone’s favorite phrase lately? Shut up, Arlo.”

“Let’s just look through the rest of these houses. See if there’s anything we can use. A radio, a generator.” He stepped into the garage and halted. “I think I just found our way out of here,” he said.

Inside was parked a Jeep Cherokee.

Doug ran to the driver’s door and yanked it open. “The keys are in the ignition!”

“Doug, look!” said Maura, pointing to a mound of metal links on one of the shelves. “I think those are tire chains!”

Doug gave a laugh of relief. “If we can get this baby up to the main road, we might be able to drive it all the way down the mountain.”

“Then why didn’t they?” said Arlo. He stood staring at the Jeep, as though it were something alien, something that did not belong there. “The people who lived here. The people who were about to cook those rabbits, why did they leave this nice truck behind?”

“They probably had another car.”

“It’s a one-car garage, Doug.”

“Then maybe they left with the people in the first house. There was no car in their garage.”

“You’re just guessing. It’s an abandoned house with a nice new SUV, dead rabbits in the sink, and no people. Where is everyone?”

“It doesn’t matter! What matters is that we’ve now got a way out of here. So let’s get to work. If we go through the other garages, we should be able to find shovels. And maybe bolt cutters, to get through that chain at the top of the road.” He went to the garage bay door and yanked up on the handle. The sudden glare of sunlight on snow made them all squint. “If you find anything you think we can use, just grab it. We’ll settle up with these people later.”

Arlo pulled his scarf tighter and waded across to the opposite house. Maura and Doug trudged to the house next door. Doug dug in the snow for the handle and yanked up the bay door. It squealed open and they both froze, staring into the garage.

A pickup truck was parked inside.

Maura turned and looked across the street, where Arlo had just opened another garage door. “Hey, there’s a car in here!” Arlo yelled.

“What the hell is going on?” murmured Doug. He ran through knee-deep drifts toward the next house and hauled open the garage door. Took one look at what was inside then plunged ahead, toward the next house.

“Car in this garage, too!” Arlo called out.

The wind screamed as though in pain, and a squall line raced toward them like white stallions kicking up snow. Maura blinked as the glittering cloud stung her face. Suddenly the wind fell still, leaving a strange, icy silence. She regarded the row of houses facing her, all their garage doors now gaping open.

There was a vehicle inside each one.