The Cabin at the End of the World

by Paul Tremblay

Leonard is battered, a diminished and broken King Kong after the swan dive off the Empire State Building. Sabrina is pressed against the wall as though standing on the crumbling ledge of a cliff face. They share a look. They wonder what the other is thinking, what the other believes, and what the other is going to do. They wonder if they’ve truly shared the same visions, the same commands. They wonder if the other is who they say they are. They wonder if the other is what they would consider to be a good person before they were called here. They share a protracted, probing look. They realize they do not know each other, not in the slightest. They realize in this darkest hour of the darkest day they are alone, fundamentally alone. Sabrina says, “This should be over, Leonard.” “But it isn’t.” “I know, I know. But what happened should be enough. Why isn’t it enough?” “She wasn’t a willing—” “I don’t care. It’s not right. They’ve already lost too much. It’s so not right I can’t even say how not right it is.” “I agree but it’s not up to us.” Andrew halfheartedly tells them to be quiet. Sabrina says, “I don’t care what you do, but I’m going to fight it. I fought it before—I did, I swear I did. But now—no more of this. I’m done. We should’ve—I don’t know—done something more to resist this. To reject it. There’s no way—” “There will come a point when you won’t be able to. You know that.” He isn’t mocking or threatening. He’s being commiserative. “Why us? Why are we being made to d...