Sam's nails dug into the Wendigo's leathery flesh as she struggled to break free, fingers turning white as she desperately tried to claw at its iron grip. There was pressure on her chest, lungs burning but she couldn't see what was happening; her vision was filled with pointed, yellowed teeth and glazed white eyes.
The pistol, arm trapped by her side, wasn't a comfort any more. It was just another reminder of how useless she was, even when she thought she was prepared.
The Wendigo loomed above her, and as the corners of Sam's vision began to blur she swore it grinned at her. Her lungs burned, but her mind was too fuzzy to put up a fight any more. As the world darkened around her, Sam felt fresh tears drip down her chin.
The next thing Sam knew she was on the ground, coughing up a lung as she drank in fresh, cold air. It stung, but God she was breathing, and she didn't know how because her chest felt like it was on fire but who cared?
She looked up as the coughing subsided, and everything suddenly snapped back into focus,
Josh's arms pinned the Wendigo to the ground, his head tilted back - away from snapping jaws. Blood soaked through his denim overalls and she knew it wasn't there before. It dripped down, pattering against the floor and staining the wood crimson.
Sam tried to stand - but her legs gave in, knees caving as she collapsed with a breathless gasp. It felt as if she had been put through a meat grinder - there wasn't a single part of her body that didn't feel bruised. Almost as an afterthought, she wondered how she was going to explain this to her mother.
A deep growl brought her rushing back to the present. The Wendigo writhed and twisted under Josh, talons snagging on his bloodied overalls, but unable to grab hold. Josh had it under control - but for how long? Already he looked tired, his arms starting to shake.
She had to do something. She wasn't going to fail him - not again, not ever. She just had to figure out a plan, execute it, and not die in the process. Easy. She had done this before, after all.
That was when it clicked. Bending to grab the gun, Sam kept her eyes trained on the scene in front of her. Then she backed up toward the kitchen, fumbling for the door handle without turning to look.
The Wendigo twisted in Josh's grip - one arm slid free, elongated hand reaching up to swat him away. Josh ducked away just in time but he toppled as the Wendigo lurched free - then both were on their feet, lips peeled back in identical toothy snarls, deep growls in their chests.
Josh lurched forward with such speed the Wendigo didn't have a chance to react. He pinned it against the wall, face inching closer - then his teeth sank into its flesh, tearing out a bloody chunk of shoulder.
Then there was a blur of movement as the two launched at each other and Sam didn't know which one was Josh an which one was the monster trying to kill him.
Sam turned away as vomit threatened to rise in her throat. In that moment Josh looked far more Wendigo than ever - whatever he did next, she was better off not knowing. Heart pounding a mile a minute she slipped into the kitchen, eyes squeezed shut against the images of Josh as he ripped flesh from the Wendigo's shrivelled body.
The door swung shut behind her, and all of a sudden Sam was alone. The snarls and shrieks of the fight were muffled, so far away it was almost as if they weren't real. But Sam was long past the point of wishing this was a dream.
Without a holster Sam settled for shoving the gun in the back pocket of her jeans - dangerous sure, but no more dangerous than being murdered by a monstrous cannibal. Then, biting back the pain shooting through her thigh, she stumbled to the stove. Shaky hands quickly worked at the dials, turning each one as high as it would go. Her heart was pounding even before the smell of gas hit her, but the stench burned her lungs and sent her beating heart into overdrive.
Matches. There had to be matches somewhere - they had a wood burning stove for God's sake! Fighting back the urge to retch Sam yanked open a drawer. Cutlery. So she threw open the next, then the next, and the next until - jackpot!
Two matches lay at the bottom of the pack, but one was all she needed. They joined the pistol in a back pocket, Sam's hands shaking so badly she almost dropped them to the floor. A curse escaped her lips, frustration beginning to bubble up inside - and she had to fight her instincts to breathe deeply. Not while surrounded by gas.
She almost made her way to the door before doubling back, long arms reaching for the oven dials. Just for good measure.
Somewhere in the living room, Josh let out a pained whine that was almost drowned out by the deep growls of the Wendigo. Then silence.
"Fuck," Sam gasped as she sprinted for the door - but instead of throwing it open, she paused. What if this didn't work? How much gas did she need for this to work? What if Josh didn't get out in time? Last time, Emily and Mike had barely made it out in time - and Sam still felt the ghost of heat across her back, the memory of still healing burns.
Dampness hit her cheek, but she didn't bother to wipe it away. Instead she grabbed up the last two matches, flung open the door, and yelled with such ferocity it left her breathless. "Josh, get out of here now. As for you, motherfucker - come get me."
She just had time to see Josh's confusion melt into wide eyed understanding as he sniffed the air - but then the Wendigo's head snapped toward her. With her own pulse pounding in her ears she spun, slender fingers fumbling for one of the matches.
In her peripheral, the Wendigo's arms reached around the door. Slowly, as if taunting her.
Well, cabin, it's been nice. Sorry I have to completely wreck you like I did the lodge. The irony of the situation didn't pass over her head, and the absurd urge to laugh rose in her chest.
She spared one glance at the door just as the Wendigo's leathery face crept into view - before leaping over the kitchen counter and throwing herself at the window.
It shattered, glass flew, and pain sliced across the back of her hand. Hissing, Sam tried to ignore the shards digging into her skin as she braced herself against the window pane.
Behind her the Wendigo shrieked so shrilly it might have shattered the window if it wasn't already.
Sam didn't look as she lit the match, tossing it behind her without giving herself time to think. Then she flung herself forward, free falling from the window as the Wendigo screamed behind her.
She landed on her feet but there was no time to marvel at that miracle. She ran, her entire body burning and God knew how she managed it, but she managed to drop to the ground and cover her head before the deafening explosion hit her ears. Even with her eyes squeezed shut, red lit up her vision and it hurt. The warmth enveloping her was too hot and it felt like her skin was sizzling and shit, this was how she was going to die-
Then everything was silent, the only sound the ringing of her ears.
When she cracked open her eyes, all she saw was perfect white snow.
The cold numbed her thigh as she dragged herself to sit up, but the rest of her body felt as if she'd been pummelled to within an inch of her life. Was there a single part of her not bruised or sliced? She winced as mottled blue skin caught her eye through a tear in her hoodie.
It took what felt like hours to pull herself to her feet. She had never been so tired in her life, every inch of her body struggling with such a simple command. She swayed for a moment, the ache settling deep into her bones, before slowly turning to the cabin.
The only thing that remained of the Washington's cabin was a charred husk. By some miracle one wall still stood, blackened, wisps of fire clinging, the smoke reaching for the sky. The rest was just nothing.
She turned away, eyes closed. No way the Wendigo survived - but she didn't want to see the body. The image rose in her mind against her will; a charred lump of a body; that's if there was even a whole body left to see. Bile rose in her throat - then she was doubled over, vomiting up her last meal into the snow.
When she straightened out, her first thought was Josh.
Snow still fell from the darkened sky, a pitter patter of damp against her skin. Shivering, Sam pressed forward on legs far too shaky and far too sore.
"Josh? Where are you?" She called into the night, her voice echoing back in a distorted parody. Sam fought the urge to flinch; it was too much like the voice of a Wendigo. How was she sure there was only one? Sucking in a breath, Sam called again. "Josh? Come on, answer me!"
Why wasn't he responding? Was he playing a stupid trick? It wasn't funny, it was childish and frightening and God, where was he?
There was one obvious answer, but Sam wasn't even going to consider it. Josh was alive and fine, he had to be.
Something crunched under foot and Sam glanced down, squinting.. Charred wood, thrown across the snow in the explosion. In the darkness, it almost looked like a limb. Tears sprang to her eyes but she swallowed down the sob rising in her throat.
Something flashed across her vision, a shadow moving across the burned cabin remains. Sam's head whipped up, body freezing with one foot mid-air. Her eyes strained in the darkness but there was only stillness.
The figure moved again and Sam held her breath - but Josh emerged from the darkness, face melting into a look of such relief it melted her heart. She threw her arms open wide and suddenly he was there, in her embrace like he belonged. Burying her head in his shoulder and breathing deeply, Sam didn't even care that he smelled of sweat and blood.
"You're okay," Josh sighed in relief, his voice strangled like he was about to cry. She had never heard him so vulnerable, at least not willingly so.
Sam's heart swelled, tears threatening to leak from her eyes. "Relatively speaking," she managed to joke, "God I was so scared. I thought you hadn't made it out in time." She clung to him tighter, not even caring that his teeth scraped against her neck as she nestled closer.
"You saved me."
Sam's mind flickered to the cabin, her voice screeching for Josh to run - but she had the feeling he didn't just mean that.
"I did. And I will; every time." She broke their embrace, trying to ignore how empty her arms felt without him in them. When she looked up and met Josh's eyes, she smiled.
He looked the same, but not. The teeth were still there, jutting out from his upper jaw; and his eyes were still milky white. She knew, though, that he was Josh again. Completely.
Sam wasn't aware of what she was doing until her face was inches from Josh's. Blonde eyelashes brushed against his greying skin, and then her lips were on his.
He tasted of sweat and raw meat, but Sam didn't care. Her lips barely grazed his, gentle and soft while his were chapped, teeth poking the corner of her mouth as she swept across them. None of that mattered because this was Josh and she loved him and they were alive-
"Ouch!" Sam drew back, hand flickering to tough the edge of her lips. Her fingers drew back, revealing a splash of red. "Oh."
Josh paled and reeled back, eyes wide. "Sorry! Shit, I'm so sorry!"
She only smiled up at him. "It's fine. I guess kissing is going to take practice. If you want to, I mean. I should have asked." She ducked her head, and all of a sudden she realised just how stupid that was. Josh wasn't interested in her; going through so much together didn't mean he was entitled to want her back. She was such an idiot, ruining this when they had just got each other back-
Cold, disfigured lips met hers again, gentle and careful in a way she had never known Josh to be. It occurred to her then that this was Josh, stripped of all his jokes and defences and playboy exterior. The Josh she had seen glimpses of underneath the fake smiles and crude innuendos.
Her eyes slipped closed as she pressed herself flush against him. The mountain could throw whatever the hell it wanted at her now and she wouldn't have even cared - all she needed was this.
