22
Dryas
The next handful of hours go by as if on hyper speed. Two airports, two cars, and of course two completely phony sets of identification for us. We are Mr. and Mrs. Black, residing in Los Angeles, California. It pleases me, for some reason.
When we drive into Interlaken, even I’m a little stunned by just how scenic it is. All around, black-blue mountains with perfect snowy caps border the greenest hills I’ve ever seen. I press my hand against the windowpane as the driver weaves his way around the twists and turns of the tiny road. I’m lost in just how astonishingly green it all is, each valley dotted with a few houses and whole forests of pine trees.
When we descend into the valley that houses Interlaken, it’s all spears before us. In the center are all the buildings, their wal
