Author's Note: Okay. Here it is. The sequel to The War on Blackwood Mountain. I just can't let go of Percy's character, no matter how hard I try. So please read, review, follow, and favorite! If you haven't read The War on Blackwood Mountain, I highly suggest you visit my profile and read it before reading this. It's not necessary, but it will put all the pieces together as to who's alive, dead, and so and so. So please enjoy!

Faceclaim(s): Matthew Daddario as Percy Anthony (blue eyes). Dianna Agron as April Anthony (blue eyes).

Rating: T (there will be explicit language due to the nature of the situation and the game. You know what to expect).

Disclaimer: All rights go to Supermassive Games for the characters. I own my OCs.

Editing: All editing is done by me, I take sole responsibility for my mistakes.

Chapter One

I was lying in the lumpy bed, my eyes wide open, tracing mindless patterns in the ceiling. I'd been doing that since I'd woken up at the hospital: just tracing patterns that weren't really there. Zoning out was a common occurrence. I'd already done it four times on the twenty minute car ride to the hotel. Chris had been trying to talk to me with virtually no results.

After the delusion of the Wendigo at the police station, I found myself back in the hospital. Wires were hooked up to me, stretching from me every which way. I had a breathing tube looped around my neck, blowing oxygen into my nostrils. The IV in my arm was throbbing – I hated needles. I had a feeling that needles were the least of my fears now.

There was a nurse by my side. She had checked my vitals and explained to me what was going on with my health, but I was barely able to pay attention. I just wasn't able to fixate on her words. It was practically impossible.

I was able to make out the bare minimum of my physical state. I had a concussion that was healing. The gash in my side had been stitched up and was healing over well. My leg was the complicated part. According to the nurse, several tendons, muscles, and nerves had been slashed up pretty badly. She said something about a cane and rehabilitation. I had a feeling there would be a lot of rehabilitation in my future.

Shortly after the nurse left, my doctor came in. Dr. Andrew Chase. He talked for a few minutes about my situation, how I should feel lucky that I was alive, the speech that you always seem to see doctors give on hospital soap operas.

But if one thing was certain, I sure as hell didn't feel lucky. I felt alone, paranoid. I supposed that was normal for what I'd been though, but it was awful. Even for the few seconds the nurse was gone, I felt like I was being watched. Like someone was coming for me. Like something was coming for me. Of course, I knew it was ridiculous. I was in a hospital, far away from Blackwood Pines. And I wanted it to stay that way.

Dr. Chase asked me standard questions and if I had anyone to contact. "We tried to contact your parents, but there was no response," he had said.

I wasn't surprised. My parents were on a paid vacation in the Amazon. My dad was a wildlife biologist and my mom was an archaeologist. They'd probably spend half of their vacation doing their work anyway. They'd be gone for a month or so, they'd told April and I. No cell service, no Skype, no Wi-Fi. Contact with the outside world was little to none.

My voice had quivered the slightest when I talked about April, told the doctor that she hadn't made it off the mountain. The memory of her was still raw in the back of my mind, haunting me. The Wendigo had taken her – Hannah. I remembered what the Stranger had said about how they killed their victims. The only solace I had was that the hope that she was killed quickly. That she didn't suffer.

It didn't make her death hurt any less, though.

I hadn't even realized Dr. Chase was gone until he reappeared at the foot of the hospital bed I was lying on. He started unhooking wires from me as he told me I was cleared. He told me he called an extra emergency contact to come pick me up. I wasn't sure who that was, but at least there was someone on the way.

After I was free from the strings, the doctor signaled to a pile of clothes on the guest chair. He said my ride would be there shortly. I changed into the simple garments that had been laid out: a white, long-sleeved Henley, gray, drawstring sweatpants, and a pair of woolen socks under my Timberland boots.

As it turned out, my extra emergency contact was Chris. He wheeled my out of my room, checked me out, and we sat in the car. I listened to as much as he was telling me before my mind wandered off.

Apparently, the press had already caught wind of our story. They'd been badgering the group constantly, which was why Chris was wearing a baseball cap and a dark hoodie. The Lodge had been totaled in the explosion. The Washington's were furious, but not at us. Melinda Washington was convinced that it had something to do with Victor Milgram, and wisely, we chose not to speak against her theories.

Nonetheless, the Washington's weren't thrilled about the events that had transpired on Blackwood Mountain. In fact, they chose to simply deny that they had happened. Chris told me how Sam and Mike tried to explain what Josh had pulled up there, and they dismissed them completely. It wasn't an ideal situation.

Josh was in a hospital psychiatric ward that was close to where we were all staying for the time being. After pulling some strings, Sam had managed to talk the Washington's into paying for an apartment for us and a rental car. Two, actually, of both. They weren't happy about it, but they did it as a favor for the Panettiere's – Sam's parents. I'm not really sure how she managed to get them to do it, but it was a blessing. We'd only be staying for the week before everyone went home to LA – and Josh would be transferred.

In fact, the Washington's were quite angry. Even though they ignored what Josh had done on Blackwood Mountain, apparently they hadn't given him permission to use their Lodge. No one had been up there since Beth and Hannah, and they wanted to keep it that way. They made it quite clear that they didn't want to hear from us again, unless we were giving them an update on Josh's psychological condition. We were allowed to visit on weekends. I didn't know if I wanted to visit.

Chris went on then to say that the rest of us were kind of stuck. We weren't ready to go back to college, or face our parents, or the media. We didn't want to face any type of therapy either, but apparently we'd all been assigned sessions to one Dr. Alan Hill back in LA. And we had one week to be ready to face them all.

So we were crashing in Canada for the time being. Two apartments and five fucked-up college kids. Chris, Mike, and I in one, Ashley and Sam in the other.

Chris drove us to the apartments. 5C and 6C, right across from each other. I wanted to see the others, but Chris told me they were grocery shopping. It was his job to go get the movies for the night, and he asked if I wanted to go, but I declined.

So that left me where I was, laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, making patterns out of nothing.

Even though I'd been unconscious my fair share in the last day, I was exhausted. Sleep threatened to overtake me with every second, but I was managing to fend it off thus far. I had to. I had to, or else they'd come. The Wendigos.

When I had closed my eyes in Chris's car, they haunted me. I saw them in my head, screaming at me, milky eyes wide and unblinking. Strands of matted hair clinging to what was left of its skin. They plagued my every thought and it was driving me mad.

And when they weren't conquering my mind, April was. April and Matt and Jess and Emily.

Despite my best interest, I closed my eyes. I could clearly envision all of their bodies. Matt and Jess's decapitated corpses, hanging from chains on decrepit wooden rafters in the mines. Their clothes slick with drying blood. Their decaying heads, tongues lolling out, graying and rotten.

I hadn't seen Emily's, but she was probably just a charred pile of bones. Cracked and blackened skin molded around bone marrow. An assortment of black bones among the burned wood of the Washington Estate.

And April. My poor, sweet twin sister April. I couldn't even bring myself to imagine the state she was in. My eyes squeezed tighter, my brain fixating on her smiling self. When she was alive and whole and carefree. I remembered us laughing about growing up together back when we were sixteen…

I moved my black knight forward and to the left, knocking out one of April's bishops. "I can't believe you convinced me to play chess. We'll have plenty of time to play chess when we're old and decrepit."

April frowned as I took her bishop. As she examined the chess board, she shrugged almost unnoticeably. "I don't know. What if one of us dies young or something? We should cover all our bases just in case – we can play bingo!"

I snorted and shook my head. "Neither of us are gonna die young, sis. I won't let it happen. I refuse to get old and wrinkly without you. Besides, I'll never be able to make fun of you for being an old witch if you die!"

"And I'll never get to make fun of you for being a Scrooge!"

I grinned and stood up April looked at me triumphantly, moving her queen into place. "Check and mate, big brother."

I crossed to her side of the table and rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. "You're already over sixty, I swear."

"You're just mad I beat you."

"Nah. I don't care who wins as long as we can keep playing and I beat you once. Neither of us is allowed to die, you hear? Not before I beat you."

April grinned and slugged me on the shoulder. "You got it, El Capitan."

I wasn't sure how long I'd been laying there. Long enough, I guess. Long enough for the darkness to take over and the glassy white eyes of the Wendigo to break through my reverie, claws slashing.

I'm not sure if I fell asleep or not, but when I opened my eyes, I was drenched in a cold sweat. Tears had been leaking out of the corners of my eyes. The light from the sun outside that had been filtering through the window was dimming.

I pushed myself up as the front door handle started to turn. I jumped at the noise and felt my heart start racing. When it unlocked, Chris's voice belted throughout the small apartment. "Percy! We're back with food!"

I got to my feet unsteadily. Dr. Chase said my balance wouldn't be the best, not for a long time. Lots of physical and mental therapy in my future, he'd said. I grabbed the elbow crutch that the doctor had given me and slipped it on my arm, making my way into the kitchen.

Everyone was in the kitchen. Chris, Ashley, Mike, and Sam.

The breathing in my throat hitched upon seeing her. I wasn't sure how long it had been, but I was worried about her. Now, seeing her, I was still worried.

The bruises and cuts on her face were almost completely gone. Her lively green eyes had lost their sparkle. Her jaw was locked. She was standing stiff, like she was on edge. We all were, though. I had a feeling that being relaxed again would take a while to achieve.

When everyone looked at me, there were faint smiles. Ash and Chris smiled at me and Mike nodded, looking uncomfortable. Sam seemed to be drinking in my appearance, but I could only focus on one person. Mike.

I saw red. It was his fault. "April's in good hands, Perce. She'll be fine." That was what he had said. I could still hear his cocksure voice replay that words over again in my head. He hadn't even done anything. Josh was alive. Josh, for fuck's sake, who had put us all through a living nightmare, and then some. And my sister was dead.

I advanced on Mike slowly, carefully, my eyes glued to his. He looked afraid and admittedly, his fear made me feel more in control. I liked it.

"You bastard," I mumbled. "You got her killed. She's dead because of you."

When I reached Mike, my self-restraint snapped completely. I braced myself on the wall and brought up my crutch, hitting him hard in the side of the face. "YOU GOT HER KILLED! IT'S YOUR FAULT SHE'S DEAD!"

The reactions were immediate. Ashley yelled something that sounded like words but I couldn't make them out over my blood boiling in my ears. Chris was trying to get me to calm down; I felt his hand on my shoulder, but it didn't do much.

I braced my crutched under Mike's chin, backing him against the front door, closing down his windpipe. My tears were free-falling now, soaking my shirt, rolling down my face like a torrential rainfall. "If you'd done something, she'd still be alive! She might be here, you motherfucker! You said she'd be in good hands, Michael, good fucking hands!"

"Couldn't…do…anything…" Mike gagged out, but I pressed the crutch hard against his throat and he took a slight gasp of air.

"Percy, stop!"

And then I fell apart. I fell apart as I felt Sam wrap her arms around my midsection and press her cheek to my back, squeezing me tightly. I stumbled back from Mike and he gasped, coughing and spluttering for air.

My world was spinning, not quickly, but it was far from stable. I sank down against the wall, crutch thrown aside, forgotten. My knees were pulled to my chest and I was rocking as I cried. Sam was holding me tightly, her arms wrapped around my shoulders, head buried in the crook of my neck.

I felt her lips moving against my neck and as my sobs got quieter, I could hear her murmuring words of encouragement. After a moment, the words stopped and she just sat there, holding me, letting me crumble. Other than my soft cries, the kitchen was quiet.

I later realized that Mike, Ash, and Chris had left Sam and I alone, and I was grateful for that. My world was falling apart around me and I needed something, anything to anchor me. To ground me. Chris and Ash had each other. Sam and I had each other, too, when I thought about it. She was always there for me. She'd always be my anchor.

And it hit that Mike didn't have anyone to ground him, to keep him together. He had to deal with it alone. I wasn't close to forgiving Mike for what happened to April, not by a long shot, but I wasn't going to blame him. He had enough riding on him as it was.

So there we sat. Me, an emotional mess, and Sam, my rock, keeping me grounded in reality. We could have sat there for minutes or hours, I wasn't sure. But I was glad we did. I realized that even though we'd all went through hell, we went through it together. We had each other when it came down to it.

I realized I had Sam.

I realized I wasn't alone.