Stranded at a Motel When the Power Was Cut
The sign said Ponderosa Lodge. It had twelve rooms, a flickering vacancy sign, and a parking lot that was already a graveyard for snowplows. Cole Hardin had been driving from Salt Lake City since 4:00 AM. He was hauling a trailer with three dirt bikes and a stack of unpaid parking tickets in his glovebox. He was not supposed to be in Denver. He was supposed to be in Moab. But the storm had other plans. The highway patrol closed I 70 at 2:00 PM. Cole pulled into the Ponderosa at 2:17. He took the last room. Number 9.
The lodge was run by a woman named Delores Cady. She was sixty three, wore a wool vest over a flannel shirt, and had a cough that sounded like gravel being crushed. She gave Cole a key on a plastic diamond. “Don’t lose it,” she said. “If you lose it, you sleep in your truck.” Cole asked how long the storm would last. Delores looked out the window. “Three days,” she said. “Maybe four. The pass won’t open until they find a plow driver willing to die for minimum wage.”
By 6:00 PM, the lodge had seven stranded guests. There was a newlywed couple, Tara and Jason Milner, on their way to a ski resort that was now buried. There was a traveling nurse, Keisha Brown, who had been driving to a night shift and was now drinking instant cocoa in the lobby. There was an old man named Vernon Cross who claimed to be a retired geologist but kept a hunting knife on his belt. There was a teenager, Maya Singh, who was supposed to be at a robotics competition and was instead trying to charge her laptop from a wall outlet that had stopped working. And there was a man in a black coat who gave no name. He sat in the corner. He did not speak. He did not eat. He watched.
The power went out at 9:14 PM. Delores lit candles and handed out wool blankets. The temperature inside dropped to forty four degrees. Cole volunteered to check the breaker box. He found it in a shed behind the lodge. The door was frozen shut. He kicked it open. Inside, the breaker box was fine. But the main line from the pole had been cut. Not torn by wind. Cut. Clean. With wire cutters.
Cole walked back inside. He did not announce what he found. He sat next to Keisha, the nurse, and whispered. “Someone cut the power on purpose.” Keisha’s face did not change. She had seen things in the ER. A cut power line was not the worst thing she had seen. “Who?” she asked. Cole nodded toward the man in the black coat. Keisha looked. The man was staring directly at them. He smiled. It was a small smile. A patient smile.
At 11:00 PM, the fire started. Not in the lodge. In the shed. The shed with the breaker box. Delores saw the glow from the lobby window. “Everyone outside,” she said. The wind was sixty miles an hour. The snow was horizontal. Tara Milner started crying. Jason held her. Vernon Cross pulled his hunting knife from his belt. Maya Singh wrapped her laptop in a blanket and tucked it under her coat. Keisha grabbed a first aid kit. Cole looked for the man in the black coat. He was gone.
The group huddled behind the lodge, against a concrete retaining wall. The shed burned for twenty minutes. Then it collapsed. The fire died. The cold became absolute. Cole did a head count. Seven. No. Six. Maya Singh was missing. Cole ran back toward the lodge. The front door was open. Inside, the candles had been blown out. He heard a sound. A whisper. He followed it to Room 9. His room. The door was unlocked. He pushed it open.
Maya was sitting on the bed. She was not tied up. She was not hurt. She was holding her laptop. The man in the black coat was sitting across from her. He was not threatening her. He was helping her. He had a portable battery pack. He had plugged her laptop into it. He looked at Cole. “I cut the power,” he said. “And I started the fire. But I also brought a satellite phone. It’s in my coat. You can call for rescue. But first, let this girl finish her code. Her competition is tomorrow. She can submit online if she finishes tonight.”
Cole stood in the doorway. The wind howled. Maya typed. The man in the black coat waited. Cole sat down on the floor. He did not call for rescue. He waited with them. Two hours later, Maya closed her laptop. “It’s done,” she said. The man handed Cole the satellite phone. Cole called the highway patrol. A helicopter came at dawn. They were all rescued. The man in the black coat walked into the trees before the helicopter landed. No one saw him again. Delores Cady locked the burned lodge and moved to Florida. Cole Hardin sold the dirt bikes. He became a electrician. He never drove through a mountain pass in winter again.
