Chapter Five:

Morning Descends

Jess fell silent, watching Mike nervously. She looked like she was on the verge of speaking more and bit her lip to keep herself from talking. They hadn't talked about it much. He'd never known what to say, exactly. After the endless questioning had finished, there had been doctor's visits and psych appointments and they'd found each other again.

It was different than it had been before. He'd always suspected that she'd been with him largely to annoy Emily and, truth be told, it didn't bother him. In fact, it gave him a certain vindictive satisfaction to see Emily scoff and squirm. But after everything, he'd thought they would be done.

Instead Jess had shown up unannounced at the house late one night and kissed him. There was a taste to her now, a comforting warmth that reminded him of a time before they'd all been broken. There was no thrill, no possessive air of conquest, or even the rush of bubbling euphoria that came with what he knew of love. Of course he did love her. Of that he was certain. And she loved him. But it wasn't the same. It was comfort. A security blanket that neither was willing to give up without something better to take its place.

"Mike? Please say something."

He cleared his throat and took a sip of coffee, savoring the warmth of the booze as it settled in his stomach. The meds had kicked in and the pain in his hand had eased.

"Okay, seriously Mike. Say something." She smiled awkwardly. "Before I go crazy?"

"Sorry. I was just thinking."

"Yeah, of course." Jess fidgeted on the couch, then started to plait her hair back in one long braid. "It's kind of… a lot."

He straightened and sighed. "I wasn't sure if I should tell you, but I had the same dream."

"Really? With the bug and everything?"

"Are butterflies really bugs?"

She rolled her eyes, fingers flying as she reached the bottom of her hair and tied it off with a thin black elastic. "Seriously? Does that matter? Do you think it's real?"

"I'm not sure. I think… maybe." Should he tell her about Sam having the dream too? He took another drink, trying to keep his face neutral.

"I recognized the part of the mine he was in," she said hesitantly. "I know we never talked about it, but I was down there for a long time. I mean, I think he was maybe on a different level than I was, but he was by the elevator shaft and there was this sign that I sort of recognized, so… if he was there, I think we could find him."

"You think he's alive?"

"Don't you? And, I mean, really—" Jess paused, then plowed ahead, leaning forward resolutely. "Even if he's not. I think I want to go back."

He stared at her. "You do?"

She nodded forcefully, eyes serious. "I know it must sound nuts, but I was so out of it. I still don't know if what I saw was in my head or what. But something pulled me through the window and if you hadn't been so quick, I think I'd be dead. And by the time I woke up, I was such a mess. All I could do was stumble along after Matt. I need to see what happened. Does that make any sense?"

Mike wished it didn't. He wished he could honestly tell her to stay, but he had no right to keep her from finding answers. "I already asked S—" He cut himself off. He didn't want to bring Sam into it any more than he had to. Not until she decided what she wanted to do. "—somebody. I asked somebody about the possibility of getting back up there. The whole thing's closed off right now. We could get to the base, but the cable car is probably off limits."

She raised an eyebrow at his phrasing. He forced a smile, but she didn't look at all convinced. Finally she nodded again. "Okay. Do you think anyone else had the dream too? I mean, if you and I had it, then it's possible that someone else had it too."

"I'll ask around if you want."

"Yeah. Um… good. You should ask…"

"Do you want me to ask Em?" Mike asked her, as gently as he could.

Jess looked away. "Do what you want." She checked her phone. "I have to go. I have class. Let me know what you find out?" She hopped up and was gone.

"But you don't have class on Fridays," he said quietly to himself, watching head down the front walk.

-o-

Chris rolled over and pulled the other pillow over his face, blocking out the light. Why was it so bright? Daytime was stupid. Why was he even awake? He didn't want to be awake. Not after being up until 4 a.m. the night before. Fuck.

A dull, irritating buzzing made its way through the barrier provided by the pillow and he braced himself, then lifted it to look around. Nothing on the bed that he could see, or the nightstand. The buzzing came again and he shoved himself awkwardly forward to hang over the side of the mattress and spotted his phone. He must have dropped it the night before. The little LED indicator at the top was blinking green. Who was sending him multiple texts at such an ungodly hour? He scooped up the phone and retreated back under the blankets.

Okay, so maybe 11:30 couldn't really be called an ungodly hour, but still. It was Ashley. It was like he'd chugged a Demon energy drink, his heart thudding happily in his chest. Chris curled up tighter under the blanket and unlocked his phone eagerly. He loved that – loved that she still set his heart pounding whenever he heard from her. He'd worried that maybe the so-called magic would fade if they actually got together, but it hadn't.

And maybe it was because they weren't really together, but still. They'd kissed. They'd even kissed a few more times after they'd gotten back from the mountain. It had been great. He wanted to do it again. More. Maybe even constantly. They could take breaks for pizza and then go right back to it.

I had a dream about Josh and there's a butterfly in my room.

…that was not what he had expected. He stared at the words, Josh's name seeming to pulse on the screen. They didn't talk about him. Ashley knew that. That was one of the unspoken rules. They didn't talk about his best-friend-turned-insane-sadistic-tormenter-who-then-got-killed-by-wild-animals. Fuck, Ashley. What a thing to wake up to.

But there was more than one text.

He was still alive. He was so scared.

This stupid butterfly won't go away. I don't want to touch it.

It's like it's making fun of me. GO AWAY.

Are you asleep or did your phone die again?

Wake up? Please?

Or charge your phone.

You know, for someone who spends so much time with his electronics, you'd think you'd keep them charged.

I shouldn't have to keep dreaming about this stuff. It's not fair.

You're going to wake up to a million texts but I don't care.

I wish you were here.

At least that last one was nice. He responded quickly. Sorry Ash. I was asleep. Are you okay?

NO. This stupid butterfly keeps looking at me.

Can't you just kill it?

I can't kill a butterfly, Chris. Are you nuts?

Sure you can. Just grab a book and squash it. I know you have at least five books within easy reach right now.

But then I'd have to go over to it and I don't want to.

He shoved himself out of bed. No way he was getting back to sleep now. He tugged on a pair of sweatpants and ran his hands through his hair. It sounds like you're freaking out. Did you take your Ativan?

It's in the bathroom and I'd have to go by the butterfly and it's going to land on me and I don't want to touch it.

Chris put on his glasses and did the mental math. It would take him at least 45 minutes to get to Ashley and… no, wait. At this time of day, it would take less. He sighed and grabbed his shoes. I'm on my way. Sit tight, okay? It's gonna be fine.

Thanks.

He grabbed his keys and glanced around the room one more time, checking for anything he might be forgetting. There was movement by the narrow window over his bed and he leaned closer. A small yellow butterfly hovered near the glass. He watched it for a long moment, then crushed it under the heel of his hand and headed out the door.

He didn't particularly like to drive. It gave him too much time to think. After the ticket he got last time he was caught on his phone while driving, Chris was careful not to do that again, which left even less distraction. And he really didn't want time to think about the stupid dream.

As if it wasn't enough that he'd had to go through extensive therapy and be questioned by the police, as if it wasn't enough that his friends hardly spoke to each other or himself, as if it wasn't enough that his almost-girlfriend had to take medication to prevent panic attacks and still had breakdowns over fucking butterflies – he still got to dream about his best friend being alive. It was the universe taunting him, punishing him for hubris or cowardice or whatever sin he was guilty of this time.

Chris eased his beat-up white truck between two other cars towards the fast lane. Josh was dead. Josh was dead and good fucking riddance to that piece of shit he'd thought was a friend. He still missed Josh, of course, but he missed the actual Josh, not whoever it was that had tortured them and gone babbling batshit crazy. "C-can we order pizza?" The heel of his hand smacked into the steering wheel with a satisfying thud. That fucking asshole. He still couldn't quite wrap his head around the knowledge that Josh was dead, torn to pieces by that rabid mountain lion that had stalked them through the woods.

He suspected that the Josh he loved had been dead long before he ever stopped breathing, though. There was no other way to explain it. His best friend would never have done that to him.

-o-

School helped. The classes were getting harder, so Sam had to focus more. It was a welcome distraction at this point. She'd showered and eaten in a daze. Class had gone by quicker than she had hoped and then she had buried herself in the library until the next one. It was all over too fast.

She normally hated going to the gym in the afternoon. It was open until 2 a.m. most nights, and going later meant less people. But today she'd take what she could get. She wanted anything. Anything to distract her from Mike's words.

So she dodged through the crowd at the entrance and dropped her bag by her street shoes, considering her options. The climbing wall was busy and she had no partner to belay her. There was probably someone willing to help her, but it would still mean waiting. Right now, she didn't want to wait.

Sam slid on her climbing shoes and laced them tightly. If she bouldered, she could go at her own speed. She was just clapping the excess chalk off her hands when she heard her name.

"Sam?"

She blinked, surprised, and looked around. Jess was standing behind her, looking just as taken aback. "Oh. Hi Jess. Sorry, I didn't see you."

The other girl laughed. "Yeah, I figured. I just felt like I should say hi, I guess. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"You're not interrupting."

Jess hesitated, then came over. "I am. I know I am. I'm sorry. I just… I didn't expect to see you and, well, now that I have…" She laughed again. That had always struck Sam as a nervous habit. 'I'm laughing,' Jess's laugh said. 'If there's a joke, I'm definitely in on it. It's not about me.' The girl fidgeted for a moment and then the words burst forth. "I really didn't mean to interrupt anything, but last night I had this dream and I've just been kind of off all day so far, so then I saw you and I wanted—"

"Mike sent you?"

"What? No, of course not. Wait, you saw Mike?"

"This morning. And he, what, recruited you to help pester me? I don't need any of this, Jess. This is really not cool of you."

"No, no, seriously. You've got the wrong idea!" Jess raised her hands defensively. Her knuckles were reddened and splotchy, the occasional line criss-crossing across the backs of her hands.

Sam's instincts went on high alert and she narrowed her eyes, frowning at the marks. "Are your hands okay?"

Jess pulled her hands down, hiding them behind her back. "Oh! Yeah, they're fine. They just…" She sighed and dropped them back into view again, giving up. "Okay. Busted. I've been boxing."

"Boxing?" That was about the last thing she'd expected.

"Yeah." The girl's cheeks colored. "I just had to do something, you know? After what happened. I need to be able to fight something. Don't—don't tell Mike, please. He still thinks I'm breakable. But that's what I mean! That's why I'm here. I'm just wrapping up for the day and heading out." She lifted her gym bag from her shoulder slightly to show Sam.

"Oh. Sorry. You, ah, don't need to be worried. I won't tell Mike. We don't really talk."

"You said you saw him today though, right? Just now?"

Sam sighed and rubbed her forehead, absently smearing chalk across her face. "No, more like this morning. I don't know… seven or eight? Pretty early."

"That's… nice." Jess looked like she was on the verge of asking something, but finally just settled on a decisive nod.

"I guess?"

"No, it is. Seven or eight you said? And I saw him… doesn't matter. I'm glad you guys were talking. But I'll leave you alone now. Sorry for being so nosy! Hey, um, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we get a coffee or something soon? I mean, I know you don't like me very much—" Sam opened her mouth to protest and the other girl waved her down. "No, it's fine. It's not like we're close or anything. But I'd just really like to talk to you. I think we have stuff we should talk about."

Without bothering to wait for a response, Jess dug a piece of notebook paper out of her bag and scribbled down her phone number. "I know you got rid of your online stuff and I'm not sure you have my number. Here. Call me some time soon okay? I think we could both use it." With a little wave, she turned on her heel and vanished back into the stream of people heading for the door.

After all that, Sam looked at the boulder wall and couldn't muster the energy to climb.

Dammit.

She sat in the sauna for a while, eyes closed, willing the steam to pull every thought from her head. Her muscles trembled with tension, but she had no will to move. "You're more yourself than anyone I know," Mike had said. Sam let her head fall back to thump against the wall. She didn't feel like herself.

She hadn't felt like herself since she came down off the mountain. She remembered smiling as she talked to the police, and even now she couldn't identify why that had seemed appropriate. And falling apart like that – to Mike, of all people – was unthinkable. She was Samantha Giddings. She didn't fall apart. She got things done. She ran and climbed and thought and rescued. She wasn't this miserable, dull mess.

For the first time that day, she let herself really consider it.

What if Josh was alive?

The moment she thought it, the air of the sauna seemed to grow even warmer around her. Under her fingers, the wooden bench seemed intensely vivid, the grain almost painfully distinct. His voice was in her ear, in her mind: It really means a lot to me that everyone came back this year and you know, that you came, Sam.

So he could torture her? She still couldn't quite believe it. But the memories were real. The fear was real. The cut on her foot from the rebar in the old hotel, the contusion on his head from where she'd hit him with the bat… all that was real. A small, bitter part of her wanted to know why her. Why was she the one chased with a giant needle? Why not Jess or Emily or Mike? She hadn't even been involved in that stupid fucking prank.

She turned to lie out on the bench, folding her hands over her stomach. She was probably over the recommended time limit for the sauna, but she couldn't be bothered to care.

Actually, why had Chris been targeted so much? Sam, Chris, and Ashley had felt the brunt of Josh's sadistic prank, but only Ashley had been involved in what happened to Hannah. Even then, she was just a participant, not a planner.

"Ugh. This is stupid." Wandering in mental loops wasn't going to help anyone, least of all herself. Sam shoved herself back to sitting and stretched forward, feeling her spine lengthen. "And if the dream is real?" she asked herself in the empty sauna. Could she find him?

"I'm so glad I have you, Sammy," he had said back in November. His head had been in her lap as they watched a movie in his parents' rec room, his voice a sleepy lull. "At least you listen to me." She thought about her dream and the way he'd touched her face. "You're here. Actually you. Not the you in my head."

She shook herself and left to get dressed.

-o-

"Ash, it was just a dream. It doesn't mean anything."

Ashley paced back and forth, crossing from the closet to the bed and back quickly. At her insistence, he'd taken the butterfly outside and he hadn't killed it. Now he was sitting on the floor, watching as she walked in endless loops. "You don't know that! It could be something more. Like how we used to find those vision thingies."

"'Vision thingies'?"

She shot him an exasperated look. "Yeah. I know you remember them. The wood pieces that were painted and had holes in them."

"Oh the totems?"

"Yeah, Chris. Duh. The ones that would give you visions when you looked at them."

"…I think we are remembering different totems."

"Oh my god. Do you seriously not remember?"

"Okay look. I remember neat indigenous artifacts. But I don't know about these visions you're talking about. Sure, we might have had some crazy ideas, but that's only to be expected."

Grumbling under her breath, Ashley snatched a squishy purple stress ball from her desk and started working it furiously as she walked. "Crazy ideas? How do you explain knowing that Mike was going to lose fingers before he lost them?"

"I didn't know that. I just was imagining all the bad shit that might happen and I thought there could be injuries. If you think this was all real, then why is Emily alive? Didn't one of those 'visions' involve her being shot? Or any of the countless other horrible things people kept expecting to happen?" He clambered to his feet and caught Ashley's hands. "Ash, that you had a dream sucks. And I totally get why the butterfly throws you off too. But you talked to Dr. Jocelyn about this, right?"

Ashley bit her lip and nodded, not meeting his eyes.

"And what did she say?"

"That focusing on fantasies about what happened won't help me heal."

"Right. We have to face the reality of what happened on the mountain. It's awful. I know how shitty it was. But you have me. And I have you. And we'll get through this, okay?"

She nodded again. "Okay. I'm sorry."

Chris drew her in against his chest and hugged her tightly, pressing his lips lightly to her hair. "You have nothing to be sorry for. And it's over now. It's all over."

-o-

By 10 p.m. she couldn't take it anymore. Sam typed out her text with shaky fingers, letting auto-correct hide any nervous misspellings. I want to talk to you.

The response came almost instantly, as if the phone had already been in his hand. Who is this? Sam?

She'd forgotten that she hadn't told everyone when she changed her number. Yeah. It's me. Are you busy?

No.

Meet by the big oak?

Sure. I'll head over now.

Sam wrapped her arms around her as she walked, feeling out each step under her bare soles before she took it. It felt like the ground might give way if she wasn't careful. She didn't think she was walking particularly slowly but by the time she reached the tree, he was already there.

"Hey Mike."

He looked up from his phone and smiled at her, that same quick flash of a smile that he'd always used on her. Sam used to think she understood what it meant. She wasn't so sure anymore. "Hey."

"Jess had the dream too, huh? I saw her today and she didn't go into detail, but I figured that after what you said…"

"I guess so. She came by to tell me about it."

"Today's just full of old friends, isn't it?" She didn't mean to sound bitter, but it came out that way all the same.

"Sorry again. I shouldn't have just shown up at your door. But I didn't know what else to do. You were, well, you were the first person who came to mind when I thought about it."

She leaned against the oak next to him. It was huge; the two of them, arms outstretched, wouldn't be able to clasp hands around it. "And the others? Did anyone else have the dream too?"

"From what I can gather. I was able to confirm with Em and she said Matt did too. Ash wouldn't answer her phone but she finally texted me back about an hour ago. Chris I don't know about. Ash said something about him but it was weird. I'm not sure what she meant."

"All of us shared the same dream. That's pretty hard to roll your eyes at."

"And you are an expert at that, so I know it's true."

Sam snorted. "I'm only an expert when it comes to rolling my eyes at you, Monroe. You make it so easy."

"Oof. Wounded to the core." He slapped his chest in mock pain. "You should be nicer to me. You almost killed me with your water bottle this morning."

"Sorry about that. All of it."

"Nothing to be sorry for. I get it."

The night was quiet, although plenty of students were making their way along the circle path. The oak was separate, in the middle of a large patch of grass. It was ancient, with raised roots that jutted from the ground. Sam loved it here. It had been her favorite place to sit and think, a quiet piece of nature in the center of the bustling school. "Do you really think he's alive?"

"I think that there's enough of a possibility that I can't not check, you know?" Mike's voice was firm. "But I'd feel better if you came with me. I'm not going to push though. I understand. Either way, I understand."

She steadied herself on the tree, letting the rough surface of the roots under her feet comfort her. "Okay. I think… okay."

"Really?" From the corner of her eye, Sam saw him turn to look at her. She took his hand. His remaining fingers curled around hers, warm and strong. "You'll really go?"

"Yeah. I'm in it now, Monroe. Let's do it."

He squeezed her hand. "Thanks."