Cory sat on the edge of the cliff, his arms wrapped around his knees, watching the sun come up over the mountains across the deep valley below him. He was waiting for the sound of a motorcycle coming up the narrow road at the far side of the clearing, which held the abandoned cabin where he’d been living for the past month—despite the lack of electricity, heat, or running water. The cabin wasn’t much, with a single bed that had seen better days, an old table and chair, and a built-in counter along one wall with a sink at one end and cabinets above and below it. The upper one held a few canned goods he couldn’t open because there was no can opener. The taps for the sink didn’t work, which puzzled him until he decided the water might come from what looked like a cistern on the cabin’s roof,
