"I think that we all do heroic things, but hero is not a noun, it's a verb." – RDJ

"Hey, is that what I think it is?" Matt called.

"Shh!" Josh hissed. What about 'keep your voice down' did Matt not understand? "And yeah, it is."

The shed where Mike and Chris had tied him up before. Good, good, good. Great, actually. Better than the lodge for one reason in particular.

He nudged Jess into walking a bit faster as his adrenaline kicked back up. Even though the shed was technically safer than being out in the open, he'd been literally dragged kicking and screaming from it before – not fond memories. "Matt, stay here, man. I'll be right back." He did not need Matt seeing the headless, sawed-in-half dummy wearing his clothes. That would definitely raise some questions.

Jess gasped and grabbed a fist full of Josh's shirt as they entered through broken doors. "W-who's blood is that?"

Josh didn't even glance at the smear he knew was on the ground by the broken stool. "Mine." He moved over to the nearest wall. "Jess, just stay here for a second, okay?" He really didn't need her seeing the dummy either.

"Okay…"

He broke into a light jog, rounding the wooden board with the half-dummy still tied to it. Please still be there.

"Oh, hell yes!" He sheathed the machete between his shirt and the back of his overalls and dropped to his knees beside the crate he'd been looking for, snatching up the first gun he could reach. His dad loved his guns, that was for sure. It'd taken Josh several hours to collect all the ones around the house and get them out when he'd been setting his prank up – something he'd made sure to be very thorough about. If one of the gang had found a gun while they thought he was a murdering psycho, things could have ended very badly for him.

Right. Because they'd gone so well anyway…

Whatever. He was now really glad he'd stored them all here together.

He set the first gun down, digging through the crate to see what his options were. Could Jess handle a gun? He had no idea. Better safe than sorry, though. He grabbed one of the rifles with a strap and swung it over his shoulder. Matt was apparently good with a flare gun, but he was too busy hauling Mike around for one of the bigger weapons. Josh snatched a handgun for him. At least it was something.

Now, what did he want? Rifle, handgun… might as well have diversity. Josh grabbed a shotgun and headed back out to where Jessica was waiting. "Jess, can you handle one of these?"

She stared blankly at him for a few seconds and then swallowed. "If I have to…"

Well, at least that wasn't a flat out 'no,' even he'd prefer not to have to rely on her to watch his back. "Okay. Here." He pulled the rifle strap over his shoulder and helped put it on hers instead. "Come on." He led her gently back outside and wordlessly gave the handgun to Matt before he pulled Jess close again, being mindful of the machete sticking out from his back.

Matt accepted the weapon instantly, stuffing it in his jeans' pocket. "I'm feeling better already."

"This way." Josh urged them on. "We're not far."

It was getting slightly easier to see now. Almost dawn, by the look of things. Almost light. That would be nice.

A terrifying, inhuman shriek ripped through the air around them. Jessica whimpered, clinging to Josh's overalls like a lifeline.

A plethora of swearwords wanted to escape his mouth, but saying them was likely to get all four of them killed, so instead he hissed, "Stay still!" Probably unnecessary, but reminding them couldn't be a bad thing.

The monster burst from the trees, landing a short distance from them. Josh held his breath on purpose this time, his eyes already watering from the cold air as he tried not to blink.

Wait just a damn minute… was the thing wearing clothes this time? It hadn't before, and it had been taller then, too.

Oh, hell. There were more than one of them.

The thing sniffed the air, skittering around but not looking at any of them. It shrieked again. Okay. Okay, okay, okay… If they just kept this up, it would go away–

A low moan broke the air, and Josh's insides twisted in panic as he snapped his gaze over to Matt and Mike. Mike. The monster's loud screaming must have been enough to rouse him from his injury-induced, ill-timed nap.

Matt hadn't so much as twitched, but it didn't matter. Mike's head rolled to one side, and the monster snapped its head around with an even louder scream. Mike's eyes popped open, his head jerking upright.

Josh didn't have time to think. Right now, all he knew was that if he didn't do something, Mike and Matt were dead.

…And that the monster had its back to him and Jess.

"Stay down," he whispered to Jess, and shoved her to the ground. Probably a bit rough, but it was that or someone dying.

Quickly, he stepped away from her, cocking his shotgun and waving his arm. "Hey, asshole! Come and get me!"

The thing's response was so fast, he almost fumbled his gun. It lunged at him, claws outstretched and ready to dig into him. Josh swung his gun up and fired, blowing the creature back. It shrieked, but was back on its feet in seconds.

What. The. Hell. It wasn't dead?

Okay. Okay, okay. New plan.

He pumped the gun, fired again, and ran. So what if he couldn't kill it? He could still get the bastard away from his friends. It was the least he could do after everything he'd put them through tonight.

The monster was catching up to him – he could hear it. He swung around, planting his feet firmly in the snow as he took aim. The shot blasted the monster back again, and then he was back to running.

Thank you, Dad. Today was a really, really good day to have a gun freak as a parent.

Wait, crap, he was still heading towards the lodge. He needed to lead this thing away from the lodge. He altered his course abruptly, weaving through the trees. If he put enough obstacles between the two of them, maybe he could hide and wait for it to pass.

A squealing bark blared in his ears, but before he could place the sound, a blur of brown slammed into him, knocking him off his feet with what felt like the force of a train. His head struck the ground with sickening smack.

The ground swallowed his groan.

Elk, his frazzled mind supplied. Or deer. Whatever. He was going to die because he'd startled an elk.

Was that the role he was meant to play: the one who died close to the end to save the others? Maybe… maybe it was for the best. The others wouldn't know about these last details. Jessica, Matt, Mike… they'd tell the others he went out in blaze of glory, valiantly leading the threat away from the rest of them. That wasn't so bad.

It's okay, Josh. We're here.

Hannah and Beth. He could join them now. And be proud of how he got there.

He relaxed, taking deep breaths as he let his eyelids fall shut.

He waited.

And waited.

When he'd managed to count to ten and still wasn't dead, Josh pried his eyes open. Was it toying with him? Playing with its food like a cat?

He rolled onto his back, his arm brushing his dropped shotgun. He was alive, and it was gone. But where? And why?

Josh swore, scrambling to his feet as fast as his pounding head would allow. If it had headed towards the lodge, then everyone was in danger.

He took a shortcut through the trees, not bothering to go back the way he came. If the others had any sense at all, they wouldn't still be there.

He was more careful this time, keeping a close eye out for deer – or elk, or whatever the hell they were – and anything else that wasn't a tree or a rock.

His throat burned and ached as the icy air tore at him with each of his panting breaths. His body begged for more air, but rejected what he gave it. The cycle was excruciating.

The lodge. It was so close now.

He actually had to thank the deer-elk. Aside from probably saving his life earlier, it also made him alert enough to avoid plowing straight into Emily. Instead, he stopped just short of bumping into her.

"Josh?"

"Josh!" Ashley. She'd just run out of the lodge's open door.

"Ash… Emily…" Josh quickly glanced around. Just the three of them. That was everyone accounted for except… "Where are Sam and Chris?"

"They…" Ashley's lips quivered.

The characteristic shriek of one of the monsters blasted from inside.

"They're still in the lodge with the Wendigos," Emily's tone was grim, but composed. "They distracted them long enough for us to get out. I think Sam had a plan."

Wendigos? Right, sure. Whatever works.

Sam. Chris. That was all he needed to hear. Whatever Sam's plan was, it would probably work better with the addition of a shotgun. He headed for the door.

"Wait, wait, wait, Josh, you can't!" Ashlely latched onto his arm, holding him back. "The Wendigos broke the fireplace, if you shoot that in there, it'll kill all of you!"

Josh swore under his breath again. Blowing everyone sky high wouldn't help anything. "Okay, fine." He turned and shoved the gun into Emily's hands – no way in hell he was giving Ashley a shotgun after feeling what she could do with just a pair of scissors when she was panicked. "Be ready with this."

He bolted for the door without another word. Nothing was stopping him. Not now. Chris and Sam were making it out of this even if it killed him.

He halted in the doorway, motionless as he took in the scene before him.

One of the monsters – the Wendigos – lay dead on the floor, its head a few feet away, but there were still two more in the room. Josh's breathing hitched.

The Wendigo from the mines – the tall spindly one that had hurt Mike – was stalking towards Sam, so close its shadow had fallen over her.

Pop.

The Wendigo swiveled around, twisting in a way that should have been impossible for anything with a spine, its blank eyes landing on–

No. No.

Chris stood on the far side of the room, his arm frozen in mid-air near a broken lightbulb. A lightbulb he'd broken on purpose, judging by Chris' now-bloodied hand. What was he doing? Emily had said Sam had a plan, but what was it?

Not that it mattered what the plan was if Chris got butchered. The Wendigo was closing in on him, sniffing the air with vigor.

Josh reached to his right cautiously, wrapping his hand around the candlestick that was on the table by the door. He couldn't distract the beast from where he was without leading it outside to Emily and Ashley, but if he threw something, maybe–

"Hey!" Sam barked, drawing the Wendigo's attention back to her. Chris lowered his arm slowly, taking small, careful steps in direction of the door. He was favoring one foot, though. Limping. Bad. Very, very bad. If he had to run, he'd be dead. But Chris wasn't the one in the most danger right now.

The Wendigo stalked closer to Sam, roaring directly into her face.

Josh lobbed the candlestick over Sam and the Wendigo's heads, and it clattered to the floor. The Wendigo pounced after it like a cat. Sam – sweet, clever, clever Sam – used the distraction as soon as it was available, darting over to one of the many wooden pillars in the lodge and pressing her back to it.

The sudden movement put the Wendigo back on her trail, but now she was closer to the door.

And so was Chris, who was just standing there now – staring at him. Finally, he'd noticed he was here.

Josh almost felt like crying as he saw the relief on his best friend's face. He still cared – after all the hell Josh had put him through, Chris had still been worried about him.

They didn't have time for that, though. Josh tilted his head towards the door.

Chris' brow furrowed behind the frames of his glasses, and Josh had known him long enough to pick up the meaning right off the bat.

Go, Josh mouthed, his gaze flickering to Chris' injured leg for a moment.

Come on, Cochise. I've got a better chance than you right now.

Chris gave the faintest of nods, his eyes darting over to the fireplace, then to the lightbulb he'd broken, and at last to the light switch that was within Josh's reach.

Oh. So that had been Sam's plan. His nose was so cold, he could barely even smell the gas, but now that he was listening, he could hear it still escaping the broken pipes. He gave Chris another nod and gently stepped to the side of the door, getting out of the way so he could leave.

The rhythmic scampering of more Wendigo feet drew Josh's attention to the second level. Right. There were still two of them in here.

The taller Wendigo that was still hunting for Sam turned away from its search in favor of growl-hissing at the other.

Sam darted from her hiding place behind the pillar over to one of the stone corners that framed several of the doorways in the house. She was out of Josh's sight now, but even closer to the door. Closer, but still way too far. She could be torn to shreds a thousand times over in that gap.

Josh shooed Chris again with a jerk of his head, and Chris finally passed through the exit, out to safety. Everyone was safe now – everyone but him and Sam. Once again, her movement had grabbed the Wendigo's attention, but this time the other one wasn't drawing it away. No, the other one was too busy sniffing the damn air.

The taller Wendigo's head disappeared behind the stone – right where Josh knew Sam was. It shrieked again, louder than before.

Sam. Sammy. No. Not her. Out of all of them, not her. She didn't deserve this. Any of this. Not one bit.

He had to do something. Something that wouldn't put those outside in danger. Something that would get both Wendigos more than a little distracted. Something bigger than throwing an object.

So he ran. Into the lodge. Into the lions' den – ha, he wished these were lions.

Why did his brain think these life and death situations were the best time for pulling out the wisecracks?

His footsteps thumped against the floor – atrociously loud, even to his own ears. He had seconds. These things were too fast to grant him more than that–

Claws raked through his left shoulder, sending him to the ground with no chance to smother his cry of pain. He gritted his teeth, rolling onto his back as he gripped the hilt of the machete that he had – surprisingly – not dropped through everything.

So what if his chances were nil? He could at least try to shove the machete into the bastard's ugly mouth.

But the Wendigo was already on him by the time he got his bearings, pressing him into the floor so harshly the machete wouldn't come free. The Wedingo's hot, rancid breath filled his lungs – its sharp, rotting teeth mere inches from his throat.

Join us, Josh.

Josh didn't even try to stop the whimper that left his mouth, scrunching his eyes shut. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to die. Not like this.

"Josh!"

Sam. That's why he was dying. For her. For Chris. He snapped his eyes open in a vain attempt to see her one last time. "Just go, Sammy! Hit the switch!" The Wendigo wouldn't bother her now. Not when it already had him in its grasp.

He was yanked into the air by his throat, a screech from the Wendigo reverberating down the corridors of his ears. The Wendigo drew one bony arm back for the final strike. Josh looked again for some sign of Sam as black flecks collected at the edge of his vision, hoping he would be granted the last request of seeing something a little more pleasant than his killer's ugly face.

Instead, his gaze landed on a simple black design inked into the Wendigo's right shoulder.

No. No, no, no, no, no, please no! This was so much worse than anything his hallucinations had thrown at him. Or was it? This couldn't be real. But this monster couldn't be fake. His mind was just playing last minute tricks on him – tormenting him a little more by projecting his sister's tattoo onto the monster's skin.

"Hannah!" he choked out.

The Wendigo hesitated, its hand still poised for the strike, but just… held there.

Oh, hell. Oh, hell. Oh, hell. It was her. He didn't know how, but it was her.

"Hannah…" he rasped. The long, bony fingers around his neck made speech nearly impossible. "I'm… sorry…" His whole body was numb – everything but the pain of the nails digging into his throat.

The Wendigo's – he refused to think of that thing's face as his sister's – terrifying head seemed to float out of his remaining sight.

The hard thud reached his ears a moment before pain shot through the arm Ashley had stabbed earlier. His chest heaved, instinctively pulling in the oxygen he so desperately needed.

…What?

"Josh!"

Sam. He followed her voice, using it as a tether to draw him back to lucid thought.

There was an awful lot of screaming somewhere. Somewhere really close. Not human screaming, though.

Josh lifted his head, sucking in more air. His vision sharpened with each breath, and the flailing shapes in front of him cleared, revealing two Wendigos. Fighting.

He scrambled back, the damaged, splintered wood of the floor scraping against his palms.

"Josh, come on!"

Josh finally zeroed in on Sam's location – at the door. By the switch. She was waiting for him. Waiting for him to make the decision to live.

He would make it. For her. For Chris. For Mike and Jess and Ashley and Matt and Emily. So they would never have to live through what he had.

They don't care about you, Josh. Not like we do.

So what? Didn't mean they wanted him to die. At least, not all of them. He honestly wouldn't blame Ashley if she did.

Josh shoved himself to his feet, lumbering around the fighting Wendigos on shaky legs.

"You can do it, man. We believe in you."

"Yeah! Totally! Woohoo!"

Both of the Wendigos were screeching now, apparently noticing that the food they were fighting over was getting away.

Josh resisted the urge to look over his shoulder – that would only slow him down.

"Let's go Jo-osh, let's go!"

Sam stood her ground, hand poised right above the switch as her unwavering gaze spurred him on.

So close now. But not as close as the Wendigos were to him.

Just a little more… He could make it. "Go, go, go! I got the switch!"

Sam waited a split second, letting him a get a little closer and then tore out the door.

Right on her heels, he stretched out a hand, flicking the switch downward in a movement he'd perfected from the thousands of times he'd done it during his childhood.

For the first time in several long hours, Josh felt real heat. The burning of his family's second home – it lighting up, consumed by flames in less than a few seconds.

He was thrown forward and sent crashing into the snow where his front ached from the cold and his back twinged painfully from the heat. There were muffled voices all around him, and he groaned. His head.

"Josh?" A hand was gently laid on his shoulder.

Josh blinked into the snow sluggishly, his arms slowly pulling in to where he could use them to push himself up. His right arm seemed to be responding better than his left – no surprise since that one had been stabbed with scissors and taken the impact of his fall – so he used his right arm to roll himself onto his side, perching there awkwardly as the machete tried to dig its way into his back.

"M'fine, Cochise." Josh grappled with the machete, pulling it out and dropping it at his side.

Chris barked out a laugh. "Yeah, sure you are, bro. Come on, let's get you up."

Josh was just starting to wonder how Chris intended to do that with his hurt leg when Sam appeared at his side too. She gave him a reassuring smile as they helped him to his feet before stepping back to give him space.

The horror of hearing another Wednigo screech didn't even have to time to settle into his stomach before the monster leaped from the flames of the house, its skin blackened and tearing apart in places. Its claws stretched out, reaching right for him… but he couldn't find the energy to move.

The wind was knocked clear out of him as his back hit the ground. No hesitation this time – the Wendigo's claws went directly for his throat.

The glint of metal… a feminine yell…

The monster shrieked in pain as Sam chopped at it repeatedly with the machete, scurrying back on its injured limbs.

"Sam, move your ass!" Emily yelled from somewhere.

Sam dived out of the way just in time for a shotgun blast to hit the Wendigo in the face. And another. And another. And another.

Even after the thing had stopped screaming, Emily kept shooting. Josh couldn't say he blamed her for wasting ammo – not with how much it took to kill one of those things.

Finally, all the screeching, all the shooting, all his friends' yells… they'd all died down.

Josh didn't move. He lay there, paralyzed as he watched the splits in the Wendigo's skin tear across the tattoo on it shoulder. Suddenly, his inability to breathe had nothing to do with having had the wind knocked out of him.

"Hannah." He stretched a hand out to her, tears pouring out his eyes. Sobs racked his whole form, his arm trembling as its stretched out towards her. Out of his reach. She'd been out of his reach of a year. Gone for a year. So why did this hurt even more?

His sobbing grew even worse, making it impossible to keep any air in his lungs. Every breath he tried to draw escaped the instant he pulled it. "Hannah, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm so, so sorry! I didn't want you to die. I didn't want to you die, I didn't!"

"Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, what do we do?"

"We need to calm him down!"

"How?"

"I don't know!"

There were hands on him now, holding him down. He didn't know whose they were, and he didn't care. He squirmed beneath them, trying to get to his sister's side. "Hannah! Hannah! Hannah!"

The last thing he remembered was more pain.

Poor Josh. :( Two down, one to go! And if you guys want see more after the last chapter, do let me know! Throw some ideas at me if you want!

Also, I just finished making a Josh video and should have it uploaded by next update. I'll be sure to drop a link for those interested. :)

"A hero is someone who, in spite of weakness, doubt, or not always knowing the answers, goes ahead and overcomes anyway." – Christopher Reeve.