Dipper took in the surroundings as he and Mabel re-entered the lobby of the lodge. Stan had instructed guests to reorganize the furniture into barricades, creating a single path of entry to the center of the large room. The bizarre sight of luxury cushions and amenities piled up into obstacles created a heightened surreality to his impending mission, itself bizarre and surreal. And of course, the irony of it all was this transformation was done prior to the creation of their plan of attack, and ultimately there was now little chance that the hotel guests would need to fight to defend their makeshift fort.
Oh wow, all this in one day… he thought to himself, realizing how quickly his day had completely gone off the rails. It wasn't out of the ordinary for things to change quickly in Gravity Falls, but sometimes putting it into perspective was a trip to the senses.
Past the barricades, Dipper and Mabel found Stan, busy instructing Wendy and her friends on how to operate the flamethrowers. Two of the teens, Lee and Nate, were just as excited as Wendy. Thompson, by contrast, looked mortified to be holding such a destructive weapon in his hands.
"Now, the most important thing to remember about a flamethrower is to make sure you don't get carried away," he lectured. "Are flamethrowers fun? Yes. Can you use them to do untold amounts of property damage? Absolutely. Is that helpful right now? Sadly, no. As awesome as it is to just spray and pray with these babies, we need to make sure we don't run out of fuel before we're out of trees to burn. So I know I'm asking a lot, but I trust that you'll make the right decisions."
Wendy exchanged a few excited glances with Lee and Nate, before standing at attention straight-faced to reply, "We won't let you down, Stan."
Stan laughed. While he was fond of giving orders and had been expected to lead the charge against the trees, he had been excited to have the opportunity to give Wendy the chance to lead and show off what she was capable of. Besides, he figured the best tactical advantage their group had against the trees was a bonafide lumberjack.
As the teens wandered off, getting their final instructions from Wendy, Stan turned to the approaching twins. "We're ready when you are. Where's Ford?"
"Finishing up his sonic weapon," replied Dipper. "He told us to help you while we waited."
"Jeez, I think we've got things handled pretty well down here," said Stan, scratching his head and looking around. "You kids got good judge of character, I can't imagine how screwed I'd have been at your age trying to rely on my friends in a crisis." He waved at Grenda and Candy, who waved back from behind a pile of cans and jackets taken from the pro shop.
"Stan," called Pacifica, re-entering the lobby, "I've gone through the entire lodge, every room is empty and accounted for now." Looking up from her clipboard, she noticed Dipper and Mabel standing next to Stan. She automatically smiled, and Dipper smiled back. Dipper wanted to thank her for the gift she had left the twins, but he figured derailing the plan wasn't the best way to show his gratitude. Between feeling inadequate next to Ford and not being able to get a word in edgewise with Pacifica, Dipper was starting to feel more than a little frustrated.
"That's great, Blondie, but I haven't seen your dad in a while," replied Stan absently. "It's been nice, don't get me wrong, but we'll need everyone together when we start burning things."
Pacifica blinked, a flash of realization crossing her face. "When we what?"
"Ford, Mabel, and I figured out a way to wipe out a lot of the trees," explained Dipper. "It'll work on most of them, but the rest are likely to start attacking everything in sight and invading the lodge. That's where the flamethrowers come in." Pacifica maintained her grin, but her eyes widened, and she swallowed carefully.
"Kind of hard to say what'll happen at that point, but given my experience with arson, I wouldn't count on the lodge being around after this is all over," mused Stan. "I have to admit, the fancy mud baths were nice, but I think these babies are going to be the bright spot of the trip for me." Stan tapped the nozzle of the flamethrower affectionately.
"Yup. Right. Arson. Got it," nodded Pacifica, the pitch of her voice noticeably rising. Dipper, who had been watching Pacifica closely, raised an eyebrow in response to her discomfort. But before he had the chance to comment, Ford strode through the barricades and up to the group.
"Here it is! One bonafide, hot-off-the-press sonic disruptor." Ford held up a small handheld game controller. "I apologize Dipper, I owe you a new one of these. We press this button," he pointed to one of the game controller buttons, "and we take over the signal. This button here, we begin to broadcast something of our own. You'll also need these," Ford handed Dipper and Mabel each a pair of earplugs. "Trust me on this. Mabel, I hope you won't take offense…" He held up the phone shared by Mabel and Dipper, with Sev'ral Timez loaded up on the music player, "that we'll be using your music to do this."
"Pshh," exclaimed Mabel, waving off the suggestion, "it only makes it cooler after it's been used to wipe out an entire evil forest."
"Excellent. Oh, one more thing," Ford handed Dipper and Mabel each a small steel hatchet. "Hopefully we'll get a clear path without any frenzied trees in our way, but luck favors the prepared. And that should be it. Time to go. Stan," Ford added, addressing his brother, "your signal is when all hell breaks loose."
"Ten-four, Sixer."
Ford took off towards the front entrance, with Mabel following close behind. Dipper turned to follow, but held back and turned to Pacifica. She held her expression steady, but it reminded Dipper more of the static, fake smile Pacifica's mother had given him earlier in the day. Clearly, it was a shared family coping mechanism for uncomfortable situations.
"Pacifica, is something wrong?" he asked. She shook her head, pointing towards the impatient Ford and Mabel down the hall.
"Dipper, it's fine. Go fix this!" she replied, "We can talk when you get back."
With a determined nod, Dipper took off in the direction of Ford and Mabel. He didn't feel comforted by the response he got from Pacifica, but it was all he was going to get for the time being.
Once Dipper was safely out of earshot, Pacifica dashed up to Stan, panicked. "Stan, I did something really stupid and I need your help."
"Give me a break," he groaned, "Dipper has like, unlimited patience for girls. Just ask Wendy how last summer went. It'll be fine." Stan began to walk away, adjusting a valve on the flamethrower. Pacifica followed closely behind.
"What? No! Stan, you can't burn down the lodge, my dad-"
"Don't worry, your dad will thank me," he interrupted proudly. "Insurance companies aren't going to cover damage by "evil trees," he'll be much better off if the lodge burns down. Believe me."
"Stan, I left my dad behind in the concierge lounge upstairs!" Pacifica stammered quickly. In her effort to get her confession out before Stan butted in again, she realized that she had nearly shouted, and the following silence left nothing to drown out her pounding heartbeat. Stan stopped and turned around, staring down at her with a look of surprise and confusion. Instantly, Pacifica felt her face grow warm with shame.
"You did what?"
"He was saying these really horrible things, and he said he didn't care about anyone who got hurt, and he had already barricaded himself in so I figured he was safe anyway. I didn't think you guys were going to burn the lodge down!" Pacifica pleaded up at Stan.
Stan looked down at the flamethrower in his hands, so lovingly crafted from the junk they found around the lodge, then back up at the terrified girl standing in front of him. Preston Northwest had a lot to answer for, and as far as Stan was concerned, suffering the consequences of his actions would be justice served. But he wasn't the one who would have to live with the fallout of that loss, or the guilt. And as much as he really wanted to be a part of the firefight against the trees, he was needed elsewhere. 'Time to be a real leader, Stan.'
With a last, longing look at the weapon in his hands, Stan turned back to the stacks of canned food. "Hey Grenda! Want a flamethrower?" he called out.
"DO I?!"
Grenda ran up to Stan, who handed the device over. "Have fun, show no mercy, and be careful. I guess." In one quick motion, Grenda slipped the fuel tank onto her back, grasped the weapon proudly, and strutted off towards the other teens eager to defend the lodge. After watching her exchange high fives with Wendy and her gang, Stan turned back to Pacifica. "Where's the lounge?"
"The third floor, toward the center of the east wing."
Stan sighed, pulling one of the pocket resort maps from his jacket to reference. "That's a long way to go with not a lot of time to do it."
Suddenly, an unearthly shriek echoed through the lobby, followed by the deafening sound of boy band pop music.
"Lead the way, and hurry!" Stan commanded. Pacifica didn't need to be told twice, running back in the direction of the east wing. 'This kid needs better influences in her life. And probably a therapist after this is all over,' Stan thought to himself.
Once the trio had reached the entrance of the lodge and came face-to-face with the pulsing, grasping branches that sprawled across the entry doors, Ford wasted no time in hitting the first button on the sonic disruptor. A high-pitched whine emitted from the controller, sending out ultrasonic waves that jammed the signal controlling the trees. Immediately, all the trees let out an ear-splitting shriek, wilting in place at the lack of command. Ford pushed open the front door to see the pathway forward begin to reveal itself as the trees began to shirk backward.
"Here goes nothing!" yelled Ford, pressing the second button. All the trees stood at attention and began blaring Sev'ral Timez at full volume. Ford took a quick glance at his wrist computer and pointed towards the direction of the strongest signal. "Let's hurry!"
As they ran through the trees, most of them dancing in time like the world's largest music visualizer, some began to show deep cracks in their bark from grooving to the rapid beat. "I think it's working!" shouted Dipper, hoping that his Great Uncle and sister could hear him through their earplugs and over the loud music.
"Not fast enough!" Mabel cried, dodging as a tree swiped at her ankles. "Turn it up!"
Ford obliged, turning the volume up to the max. Left and right, trees began to burst spontaneously, exploding out from the trunk. Thinking quickly, Dipper whipped the backpack off his back and held it up in front of his face, shielding himself as sawdust and splinters bombarded him like shrapnel as they ran. So much dust began to collect that the snow around them had turned from white powder to a brown sludge.
"Looks like we got a lively one up here!" yelled Ford, pointing at one of the trees ahead. It spun around wildly, its finger branches clenched in tight fists as it spun in place. Ford led the way to try and steer clear of the frenzied tree, but as soon as it sensed their presence, it began to chase.
"Watch out!" called Mabel as a branch swung down towards Dipper, who ducked and avoided it at the last moment. Dipper leaped back to his feet and pulled out the hatchet Ford had given him, swinging down hard on the roots of the tree. One group of the roots snapped free, causing the tree to wobble around and lose its balance. As it fell, Dipper took the advantage to swing again and again, removing as many of the roots and branches as he could to render it immobile.
The tree screamed, rolling back and forth in an attempt to strike back at Dipper, but it had been neutralized as a threat. Ford flashed Dipper a thumbs up before motioning for them to continue onwards through the forest, trees continuing to scream and explode all around them.
"Here they come!" called Wendy from just outside the doors of the lobby, motioning for the group to advance. Shortly after the deafening pop music had begun to die down, she and the rest of her flamethrower squad had assembled at the front doors, ready to take on the remaining trees that resisted the sonic attack.
Grenda stepped through the front doors, flamethrower at the ready. "FORM UP!" she commanded, as Lee, Nate, and Thompson followed, stepping forward to flank her. Her breath hung in the air as she spoke, drifting out in wisps from her mouth. The air was frigid, one of the coldest nights of the winter thus far. Wendy lowered her weapon to waist level and did a final pressure check on her fuel line.
"You guys, I'm scared," whimpered Thompson.
"What's there to be scared of?" Wendy retorted, "each one of us just has a homemade flamethrower strapped to our backs."
"NO TIME TO BE SCARED, HERE THEY COME!" shouted Grenda, pointing as a group of trees began to advance across the parking lot. All five lit the pilot lights on their flamethrowers, preparing as the trees lurched their way across the icy asphalt.
"Wait for it…" breathed Wendy, watching carefully as the creatures grew closer and closer. "NOW!"
Five streams of fire lit out across the parking lot, striking the first line of trees. Pained and confused, they began to collapse into one another, spreading the flames further into their ranks.
"HOLD!" called Wendy, and the five streams dissipated. Despite the frigid Oregon winter, Wendy was suddenly overheated in her parka and winter gear. She had underestimated the amount of heat she'd be experiencing, but the thrill of causing so much righteous destruction outweighed her discomfort.
The group watched as the first line of trees began to break down and turn to ash, followed by a second wave advancing over them to try and continue their attack. "AGAIN!" More fire, but this time the trees continued to advance through the streams despite taking damage. They managed to get within fifteen feet of the firing squad, collapsing once again into smoldering embers. Once they stopped moving, the five streams ceased again.
"I don't see any more of them," said Lee, scanning for another wave.
"Is it over?" asked Thompson nervously.
"Hardly," scoffed Wendy, "Ford said these are supposed to be frenzied and irrational creatures, but maybe they're not stupid enough to keep walking right into the fire." Out of the corner of her eye, Wendy saw motion. "Look, over there!"
Off to the side of the parking lot, another swarm of trees began to rush the west wing of the lodge. Wendy motioned for the group to relocate, and they quickly decamped from the center of the lot towards the advancing swarm. While running, Wendy twisted a knob that she hoped was the throw distance. Once within firing range, she fired again, her stream launching further into the trees than ever before.
In addition to throwing the fire further, however, Wendy realized that she now had less control over the direction of the spread. As she arced the flames into another approaching group of trees, she also set a parked minivan ablaze. "Get back!" she cried, cutting off her stream and retreating with the others. Without warning, the minivan exploded, sending rusted metal and tree branches in all directions. "Cool..." she whispered to herself.
While most of the trees near enough to the explosion had crashed into one another and inadvertently created a barrier of tinder, one or two of the trees continued to crawl. To Wendy's disappointment, they managed to keep crawling until they reached the lodge itself, setting part of the wall ablaze.
"Ah man, already?" Wendy groaned. "We're not going to be able to do this for long." She pulled a short-range radio out of her jacket pocket. "Hey Stan, they're setting the lodge on fire. You've got to start getting people out to the front for phase two." A crackle from the radio, but no response. "Stan?"
There was still no reply. Meanwhile, another group of burning trees reached the lodge, spreading the fire further down the west wing. There wasn't time to waste.
"Guys, change of plans," Wendy announced, "We've got to retreat and start evacuating the lodge."
In his jacket pocket, the sound of a garbled transmission from his short-range radio drew Stan's attention. The further he ran after Pacifica into the east wing of the lodge, the less of the signal he received from Wendy. In his original battle plan, Stan had instructed Wendy to tell him when the fire from the trees had begun to set the lodge ablaze so that he could get everyone out into the parking lot armed with sharpened skis and axes to fight the remainder of the frenzied trees. Of course, now that he was no longer in the lobby, that plan wasn't going to work.
He silently cursed himself for not passing the radio onto Candy at the same time he handed Grenda his flamethrower. 'Hopefully, Wendy's got enough sense to get everyone out without me,' Stan thought to himself. But either way, he wasn't about to leave Pacifica to save Preston on her own.
"There," Pacifica pointed towards the door at the end of the corridor. As they approached, they could see Preston inside, using part of an espresso machine to beat back one of the trees that had broken their way in through the window. "Oh God," Pacifica cried, watching as the tree snatched the blunt weapon from his hands and forced him to cower into a corner in retreat. She turned to Stan, panicked. Hurried, he began looking around for something he could use to break open the door. His eyes landed on an emergency cabinet on the wall that contained a fire extinguisher, though he was far more interested in the fireman's ax hanging on the side.
"Stand back," Stan ordered, pulling the ax off of the cabinet and twirling it in his hands. Pacifica obeyed, watching as Stan raised the ax far above his head and swung it down hard on the door. It lodged into the frame, making a sizeable dent, but not enough to break the handle. He raised it again, swinging down again aggressively. The hole grew, and the locking mechanism was now visible.
Stan chuckled. "This makes me feel like I'm in my favorite knock-off B-movie - The Creepy Hotel and the Guy With The Ax." He swung at the locking mechanism directly, and with enough force to fracture the metal. The door limply swung open, no longer held in place by the handle. "Heeeeere I am!"
Pacifica pushed her way into the lounge just in time to see the tree wrapping itself around Preston. "Dad!" Pacifica ran towards her father, trying to pull him to his feet to resist the constricting branches. Stan followed, swinging the ax down on the invading tree several times in quick succession. Preston watched, paralyzed by fear, as the tree screeched, twitched, and eventually loosened its vice grip over his body. Stan turned back towards the Northwests, catching a grateful smile from Pacifica, and gestured out of the room.
"Come on, let's go!" yelled Stan, helping Pacifica to pull Preston into a run. The lounge was soon far behind them, but the haunting sounds of the screaming trees continued to echo after them.
"Pacifica," began Preston, "I-"
"Unless the next words out of your mouth are 'I apologize and I'm lucky you're even speaking to me', I'm knocking you out and dragging you to the lobby," warned Stan.
Neither Northwest said anything in response. Pacifica intentionally avoided her father's gaze, choosing instead to focus on the stairwell at the end of the hallway. Stan stole a sideways glance at Preston, reading his face. While he had seen the elder Northwest brush off multiple instances of supernatural and cosmic threats to his wealth and lifestyle, Stan had never seen him look this pained and defeated. While incredibly reckless given the circumstances, perhaps Pacifica's actions would set the stage for a better relationship going forward.
As the trio reached the stairwell, the echoing sound of the trees from behind them faded, to be replaced by the ominous sounds of crackling wood and groaning steel ahead of them.
"What did you do?" Preston asked wearily, the temperature increasing as they descended the stairs.
"We had to stop the trees somehow," he replied, "in my experience, fire usually does the job."
"But... my resort..."
"I've told Blondie this already, but trust me, you're going to have a better call with the insurance company telling them your lodge burned down than trying to convince them that you were attacked by a bunch of evil trees."
As they reached the first floor landing and re-entered the lobby, the smell of burning wood had become overwhelming. Preston had regained enough of his strength to stand on his own, and as Pacifica and Stan took off towards the makeshift furniture fort to help evacuate the guests, he found himself frozen. He looked around at everything he had built, everything he had so carefully planned, now abandoned and piled up in heaps of ruin. The fire hadn't yet reached the main atrium, but already so much of his dream had gone up in smoke.
After confirming that Wendy had already begun the evacuation, Stan turned back to see Preston standing like a statue in the lobby. Pacifica had thrown herself into the crowd of people making their way out of the building with sharpened skis and face masks, so he was the only one paying any attention to the elder Northwest. He groaned in frustration and started walking back towards him.
"Moneybags, time to go," he shouted, not bothering to hide his distain in the slightest. He received no acknowledgement in return. "Hey, I'm serious. We need to get out of here."
"And do what, exactly?" came the defeated reply.
Stan's jaw hung open, unable to muster a response for a moment. "You know, survive this?" He studied the look on Preston's face. While it remained cold and stoic on the surface, Stan could instantly recognize it was a front.
"I've failed them. I keep failing them."
Stan slapped Preston across the face. His thousand yard stare was instantly replaced with a look of horror and shock. "Look, buddy. I don't like where this is going. Your kid just put herself at risk to save your life, and I'm making sure she didn't waste her time. So like I said earlier, you come with me and get out of here, or I knock you out and drag you out of here."
Preston's eyes darted to Stan's clenched fist, then back to his face.
"Very well, lead the way."
Stan shook his head and started walking in the direction of the evacuating crowd, making sure to turn back and confirm that Preston was following him. As the crowd began to pile out of the lodge and into the parking lot, the distant groaning and shrieking noises brought him back to the reality of their current situation. 'Hopefully, Ford and Dipper are just about finished with whatever they're planning.'