text: [Themes: modern]
  
  Charlei said she wanted this "game" to be more challenging, and what better way to give her what she wants than to throw the entire camp into darkness? That can be accomplished literally with the push of a button: the off switch on Ray Cooper's generator.
  
  The biggest question is, where is it? Normally a gas-powered generator wouldn't be that hard to find — just follow the sound of the running motor. But tonight Bob is the louder force, making the generator more of an inferred power source than a known one: instead of listening to its droning purr outside the cabin all night long, you can only make assumptions about its presence based on the observation that the A-frame's lights are on.
  
  But to turn it off, and thus throw the Goodcheer-Fellows into a world of confusion, you first need to find the thing. A generator would be placed outside, of course, out of view but easy to access. You are in the camp's backyard, so you would expect to find it nearby, away from the more decorative front half of the camp. Around the woodpile, maybe?
  
  Pulling your jacket up above your shoulders to shield your face, you dash out from under the cover of the corrugated sheet metal and begin the search. There is irony in this situation: you must search the darkness to create darkness. Still, it is better than rifling through the pockets of a murder victim, right? At the far end of the wood pile, and butted up against the stone foundation just below one of the low-reaching eaves, is a wood box lurking in the shadows. Between the rain pounding on the giant metal roof and the wind continuously flushing the air clean, you could trip over a generator tonight and never expect to hear the motor or smell its exhaust. But you put your hand on this wooden cube and feel the steady vibration of a running engine. This is it.
  
  You fumble with the door to the enclosure in the dark, but then the wind catches it and flings it open for you. There is no light here, but you know enough how a generator works. You feel around for a control switch, and then grasp a knob rotated to a 45° setting. This must be it! You try a clockwise rotation, but the knob refuses to move in that direction. Rotating it counterclockwise instead, you feel the generator shudder and go motionless. The light on the other side of the wood pile, over the door to the utility room, goes out, leaving nothing but the wildness of the storm.
  
  Well, it's not entirely dark: one light source remains on the far side of the cabin, and it takes you a second to realize it's coming from the headlights of the F150.
  
  Now you have an understanding of why moths do what they do: with all but one light extinguished in your universe, you are immediately drawn to the one that remains. You decide to take the long way to get there, going around the far side of the A-frame, well away from both doors. With your right hand in contact with the bottom of the great roof, you feel your way around the side of the structure, stopping just before you reach the front corner.
  
  There you stop, still hiding in the shadows. You can see the driveway plainly: the shadowy Dodge Ram, your red F150 pulled up at an angle to it preparing for that jump that never occurred, the motor still running and the lights still on. The rain is pounding furiously at the gravel surface, faster than it can be soaked up by the ground; the excess water on the surface is roiled up, as if the contents of the storm were pouring into an open swimming pool, not onto solid ground.
  
  When the three of you exited the Ford a few minutes ago, someone didn't close their door all the way. The dome light is still on, revealing an empty crew cab. Your truck is just standing there, ready to make a quick getaway!
  
  > Charlei and Gordy may be watching the truck, expecting you to go there.
  A healthy dose of reason overcomes you: only one source of light remains on the entire property, and you want to run toward it? Wasn't the whole point of killing the generator to throw the place into darkness, and thereby create confusion?
  
  The eave of the A-frame is very low, extending down to your thigh with a narrow space underneath. It occurs to you that this is not a bad place to be, all things considered: the overhang might provide some protection from the storm, and from here you will be able to see anyone leaving the camp. There is a thin sheet of water pouring off each wide groove in the metal roof, but the crawl space between it and the foundation is a good three feet wide: tight, but workable.
  
  And so you crawl through the watery barrier, pressing yourself against the stone foundation, waiting for something to happen. But your truck is just sitting there, idling in the rain, its lights shining on an empty walkway.
  
  You nearly jump when another light grazes past you like an errant bullet. What the—! Turning, you see another beam of light, much like one of the headlights but much weaker. It bobs through the rain, growing brighter as a shadowy figure — make that two shadowy figures — follow the light toward the generator.
  
  Neither person has seen you, but once again they are close by — too close. Gordy squats down to examine the generator while Charlei holds the flashlight over his shoulder. The rain is hitting the roof too loudly to allow you to hear what they're saying, but the particulars aren't important. They've figured out pretty quickly what happened, and they're about to restore the power.
  
  Except that the flashlight cuts out, leaving both of them in the dark. None of the other lights are coming on, and so you can only assume they can't find the switch that starts the generator. Gordy is probably cursing his luck, Charlei is suggesting a course of action. Something like that.
  
  It occurs to you that now would be the perfect time to make your getaway, with the Goodcheer-Fellows truly stranded in the dark and completely oblivious to your whereabouts. But just as you're preparing to burst into a sprint, someone else runs past you, and your heart stops. It's Charlei, running toward your truck herself. Helplessly you watch as she climbs up into the crew cab, settles into the driver's seat, and backs it away from the Ram. Where the heck is she going — to Home Depot to get a better flashlight? But instead of turning toward the driveway, she steers it forward, straight toward you.
  
  Suddenly you understand what's going on: she's going to use the headlights to illuminate the generator, so that her husband can power up the camp again. But in the process she is going to drive right past you, and there won't be anything but a sheet of transparent water to hide behind.
  
  So much for the perfect hiding place! The distance from where the truck was parked to where Gordy is waiting by the generator is too short, leaving you no time to run. There are no other nearby sources of cover anyway, so the best you can do is hold still and hope you appear as nothing more than a vague shadow.
  
  But you are betrayed by the lights of your own truck: as it rounds the corner, they shine right on you as you hide like a scared rabbit under the eaves. Instead of parking beside the generator, she veers the Ford toward you so that even Gordy can see where you are. You run; a gun pops behind you, sounding more like an overeager staple gun in the rain, but the bullet that is fired from it chips away at the stone next to the space you've just vacated. It would've done worse to you, had you still been there.
  
  Whatever advantage you had sought by killing the electricity has now come to nought, and indeed you have never been in more peril than right now. One member of this happily married couple has a gun, and the other is backing your truck around so she can chase after you. How exactly does one escape from such a situation? The A-frame is a deathtrap, who knows where the keys to the Ram are, and the forest is too inhospitable. It is almost enough to break your spirit.
  
  Gordy's gun pops again. Then again, then a third time. There is no telling where the first two shots went, but you have no doubts about the third. It pierces your shoulder and knocks you forward, and your body splashes in the pool-like puddle. It is not a mortal wound, but as Charlei parks the F150 just inches from your heels, and as Gordy strides into the glow of the headlights, you know exactly what is about to come.