Chapter Ten:

My Bleeding Hands...

The rockslide hit the tunnel.

It went pitch black in an instant. It was deafening. One of them was screaming. Maybe both of them. Jess couldn't tell, couldn't see or make any sense of what was happening. She dropped to her knees, throwing her arms over her head. Rocks crashed down around them, dirt raining from the ceilings, the beams shaking. It was like drowning, like being stuck under saltwater for too long, but worse. Her lungs spasmed and she coughed, trying to eject the dirt she had inhaled.

Slowly the rumbling eased.

She was alive. She didn't know how, but she was. Carefully she lifted her head. It was too dark to make out anything and she reached back to her bag, praying it hadn't been totally destroyed protecting her from the falling debris. It was torn and she could feel a large wet patch where her canteen must have been busted, but the flashlight still worked.

The tunnel was a wreck. They had gotten far, but not far enough to escape the disaster completely. In the narrow beam of the flashlight it was hard to discern details, but it was clear they wouldn't be able to leave the way they entered. There must have been at least 20 feet of rubble plugging up the entrance.

It was quiet. Too quiet. Where was—

"Emily?" Jess spun in a circle, scanning what she could see of the tunnel. "Emily!"

She rushed to the girl's side, brushing dirt from her face. Emily was limp in her hands. Pressing her fingers against Em's throat, she nearly sobbed with relief at the pulse she found. "Emily, wake up. Emily! Fuck!" Jess yanked open her pack and pulled out her leaking water bottle, letting some of it dribble onto Emily's face. The girl started to stir feebly and Jess scanned her body, looking for any other visible injuries. It didn't seem like she'd been struck too directly.

Emily's eyes opened and after a moment, she focused on Jessica. "Jess?"

"You're okay?"

Nodding weakly, Em tried to push herself up to sitting and bit off a shriek, falling back again.

"What is it?" Jess helped Emily drink from the dwindling water in the canteen.

"My… my shoulder. I think it's dislocated or something." She let her head drop back. "This fucking mountain. I swear to god."

"If it's dislocated, we can fix it. I mean, not fix it fix it. But Elly dislocated her shoulder when she fell and I watched them put it back. I think—I mean, I bet we can do it. That should help. Then you'll just have to be careful, right?"

Emily groaned. "So you're going to play doctor? I should've let the rockslide get me."

"Hey Em?" Jess asked sweetly. "Shut the fuck up, okay?"

Against all odds, it made Emily laugh. Using her good arm she shoved herself up and gingerly reached out with the other. "Okay, fine. Do your thing, Florence Nightingale."

"Actually, you need to lie back. Here." She helped Emily lie back down and took her arm. "This is going to hurt. Probably a lot. I'm sorry."

"Just do it." Jess pulled slowly on Em's arm, hoping against hope that she was doing it right and not about to make things a lot worse. On the ground, Emily closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. Suddenly there was a soft clunk and Emily sighed. "Oh fuck. That's so much better."

"We should try to make you a sling or something." It wasn't hard. They found Emily's bag a few feet away and used one of their spare shirts to craft a makeshift right. "Try not to move your arm."

They shared the rest of Jess's water between them. The bottle wouldn't do them much good at this point. Together they unpacked both bags, assessing their undamaged supplies. They had the radio, which seemed to be intact, and some extra clothing. Emily's canteen was still functional and the rations, though crushed, were edible. Jess's small first aid kit was largely complete, although the travel thermometer had broken and the aspirin looked more like a powder than some pills. They re-packed to give Jess most of the weight. Emily's arm wouldn't support a heavy bag any more.

It could have been much, much worse.

The radio crackled to life and both of them jumped, Emily wincing as her shoulder jerked. "Jessica—Emily?" Sam's voice was distorted and fuzzy with static. Then Mike's voice, a bit clearer: "Em?"

"Sam? Sam!" Jess snatched up the radio. "Oh my god, you guys are okay!"

It was hard to hear anything through the static. "We're underground," Emily pointed out. "We're lucky we can hear them at all."

"—lodge—all meet—okay—"

"Yeah. Yeah, we'll find you guys. We're okay. If you can hear me, tell Matt we're okay. We'll make our way to the lodge. We're in the mine right now, so it might take us a while."

"—look—head there—"

The radio went silent again and Jess clipped it onto her pack. She glanced at Emily. "Do you think we can do it?"

"Of course we can. The mines aren't that bad. We'll just be careful. I bet we can find that passage thing that Mike talked about. The one that goes to the basement in the lodge."

"You think it's still intact? The lodge exploded, didn't it?"

"Only one way to find out. But the basement was mostly cement and rock. I bet at least part of it is still there. And if we find an exit before then, we can take the above-ground route."

They picked their way down the shaft, not speaking more than they had to. They turned left at a fork in the tunnel, Emily marking their way with chalk. They'd known they would be in the mine at some point. None of them had wanted to get lost again and they'd decided that marking the tunnels was probably a good idea. Each had a different color of chalk in their bags. Emily's was blue and Jess's was green. At every turn, Emily rubbed a thick line of each color onto the wall, turning it into an arrow in the direction they were heading.

The air was damp and musty and cold. "Should we try to find Josh?" Jess asked, after they'd been walking for a while. "I mean, we are in the mine."

Emily considered it, then shook her head. "We should try to find Sam and Mike. We'll keep going for the lodge like we planned. We can come back once we find them. Looking for Josh will just get us deeper in the mine."

It felt like they wandered for hours, making guesses at each intersection based on their hazy recollections of the mine. Then, emerging from the darkness like a mirage, was a door. It was a green-tinged metal, set into a similarly designed frame.

"What is that?"

"Maybe that tunnel Mike talked about?"

The handle was stubborn with disuse. Jess put her shoulder into it and it gave, screeching open an inch. They both winced. "Cool, well. If Josh is down here, I'm sure he heard that."

It was weird to be in a constructed hallway after the mine. Jess led the way. "Is this that tunnel?" she asked over her shoulder.

"No idea. Mike locked the door behind him when he went so we didn't get to see the whole thing. This looks different from what I did see, though."

With a thud, pain flared in Jess's shin and she swore wildly. "-cking up your fucking ass, you piece of shit."

Emily's flashlight illuminated a chair on its side. "I don't think it's able to do any of those things."

"Ugh." Jess glared at her, rubbing her leg. "Whatever. That hurt like a bitch."

Together they surveyed the hallway. "I don't think it's the lodge," Emily said finally. "There's this old hotel that's connected to the lodge basement. I think we're somewhere there. We didn't go far enough to get to the sanatorium."

"An old hotel? This just gets weirder and weirder."

"Hey, it's the Washingtons. I'd be surprised if this was the end of the weirdness." Emily grinned at Jess, who laughed. Em's smile was wide, bright, unafraid. Then her face closed abruptly and she turned back to the hall. "We should keep going. I bet we can find our way to the lodge. Or at least to the outside."

The hallway began to branch. It was mazelike and seemed endless. At least they'd had a general idea of the mine's layout. This was a complete unknown. They didn't speak when they paused to eat and share a drink of water, then continued in the deafening silence. The urge to sing, to talk, to make any noise besides footsteps was strong, but seemed impossible to obey. If Jess didn't know better, she'd swear that the hotel was angry at them for even being there.

As they passed an open door, a bright light suddenly burst across them and they both winced. Jess let out a little yelp of surprise, blinking and trying to get her vision to clear.

"What the fuck?" Emily turned towards the doorway, trying to peer into what seemed like a blindingly white light. The hall was still just as silent as it had been moments before. She took a tentative step into the room, Jess trailing behind her.

"What—what is this place?" Jess's words were soft, almost reverent.

It had been a kitchen of sorts. The floor was ceramic tile, dirty and cracked in places. One long wall was lined with cabinets. The room, which had been at least 40 feet long, was divided into two by what looked like a recent addition: a strange metal and glass wall. Twelve large circular saws, red with rust and who knew what else, were lined up at regular intervals across the width of the dividing wall, all at waist height. Above them was another foot of metal, then filthy glass windows stretching up to the ceiling. Through it they could see the other half of the room.

A long chain extended from a winch at the center of the saw wall, attached to a pair of manacles. They were heavy and had a patina of rust as well. A floodlight lit the room, motion-activated.

Emily moved to the glass, leaning carefully to avoid the saws jutting out from the wall. "The chain goes out the other side too. It's shorter. No, wait, I think it's the same chain maybe? It has handcuffs too."

"Was this another one of Josh's things?" Jess hugged her arms around her chest. It was freezing, the cold only amplified by the tile under her feet. She could feel it through the soles of her boots, though maybe that was just her imagination.

"I'm not sure. It matches the kind of stuff the others talked about. Saws and rust and dirt and whatever." Emily picked up the manacles and turned them over in her hands. The edges were sharp, almost to the point of pain. It might not have done any real damage to wear them, but they would bruise and maybe cut.

"Then who was it for?"

"Matt and Mike maybe? Or another for Chris and Ashley? It's definitely meant for two people."

Jess turned slowly, surveying the room. On the wall behind them, a key hung on a nail. If a person pulled the chain to its maximum length, they could probably reach it. In an upper corner on each side of the center wall was a speaker and a video camera. Inset into the glass portion of the wall at two points were circular metal grates to allow sound to pass more easily between the two halves of the room. It was like the bank teller's window from hell. She shuddered. "This is creeping me out. Can we go?"

"Oh? Are you scared?"

She rounded on Emily, ready to snap at her, but the expression on the other girl's face made her stop. It wasn't mocking at all, just a little frown and worried eyes. "I—yeah. Can we go?" she repeated. "I don't think there's anything in here anyway. Not anything that would help us, right?"

Emily gave the room a last once-over and nodded decisively. "Yeah. Let's bounce." They went back into the rubble-strewn hallway to continue on. Emily paused briefly to rest her palm on the next door down. "This must lead to the other half of the room." She glanced back. Jess was studying something on a shelf in the hall with a strange look on her face. "What did you find?"

"I'm not sure. I think—" She reached forward and pushed a button.

A muffled voice came from the room they had just left, loud in the otherwise dead silence of the ruined hotel. Emily opened the door and the voice flooded the hallway.

—and thought that no one could see. But here, now, it's time for best friends to prove themselves.

There was a momentary pause in the recording.

Now, now. Stop shouting and listen up. It's time to focus, girls. For you see, it's time for you to get even closer. You are best friends, correct? BFFs I believe is the term? Connected at the hip – or, shall we say, the hands? If you ladies would look at the wall behind you, you'll see a little gift. Only one of you can reach it at a time. So does pride and self-preservation win out? Or would you really sacrifice yourself for the other? I can't wait to find out. One way or another, someone's going to get a makeover.

The voice fell silent. Emily didn't move, staring into the room. "It was for us." Jess's voice shook as she came up beside Emily. "He meant it for us."

"I know." The other girl's voice was strange, detached. "I wondered, you know, if he had something planned for me. Or for us. Isn't it all our fault? The prank, what happened to Hannah and Beth."

"No—"

"Oh my god. Don't be stupid." Emily's voice was still flat and expressionless. "Of course he'd want to make us suffer. You and I killed his sisters."

Jess hesitated, then slipped her arms around Em's waist. Emily took a deep breath, as if steadying herself, then sagged against Jess. She slowly put her arms around the blonde, her usually proud frame collapsed, body trembling. "We made a mistake," Jess said quietly. "We did. But it was an accident, what happened to them. Even Josh must have known that, on some level, right? These saws and stuff… none of them are fatal. They can't be. That was the whole point. To make us realize what we'd done and to punish us. But not to kill us." She reached up and smoothed her hand over Emily's hair. She smelled like dust and metal and, under that, the faint, sweet scent of the perfume that clung to all of her clothing.

It made Jess smile. "You still wear the Dior?"

Against her shoulder, Emily snorted. "Don't fix what isn't broken."

"It's nice. I…"

Em stiffened and pulled back. She cleared her throat. "I think we should keep going. This place is gross."

-o-

Beth stroked Josh's hair, smoothing the filthy strands back from his face. He stared blearily up at her, his eyelids heavy. He wanted to sleep. He always wanted to sleep. Hunger dug its claws into his stomach. He wondered if his stomach could turn inside out. It had been eight days since the last time he ate. He thought of his meal and wanted to throw up, even as he wanted more.

A shrieking howl echoed up the elevator shaft from deep below. Josh flinched. Beth shh-ed and soothed him, humming a lullaby under her breath as she continued to pet him.

"It's gonna get me, Beth. It's gonna get me."

Beth shook her head. Across from them, Hannah smiled. "No, it's going to get them."

"It's gonna get them," Josh repeated, muttering it under his breath until the words began to run together. "It's gonna get them. It's gonnagetthem. S'gonnaget'em."

The fingers on his hair stilled. Beth's face didn't change, staying serene and fixed in place. She cocked her head to the side, as if listening. Her eyes narrowed infinitesimally.

Hannah began to sing, a mocking out-of-tune version of Beth's lullaby. "—buy you a diamond ring. And if that diamond ring turns brass—"

Beth stood. Josh tried to catch her wrists, to cling to her, but his hands slid through her like water and he laughed. "Of course. Why do I even try anymore?" The girls were gone. He was alone again. Just like he'd always been.

He shoved himself to his feet, swaying. Every fiber in his body screamed for food. The word beat in time with his heart, pulsing in his ears. His mouth salivated at the very thought. He needed food. Nausea battled need and he took a step, then another. Then another. He needed to eat.

-o-

"Matt—"

"Jess? Oh good. I was starting to worry."

"We're in the—lodge—make our way to the—mine. Might take us a while."

"It's kind of hard to hear you guys. Are you all there?"

"Yeah—we're okay."

"Be safe. I'll hold down the fort."

-o-

"I'm just saying. You're vegan, right? So your options are limited up here. I shouldn't be eating your food."

"Just eat the damn bar, Mike. It's fine. I'm vegan but I'm not stupid. If it comes to it, I'll eat whatever I have to." She was breathing hard, taking the path quickly. "I mean, except people. Take a big pass on that one."

"And I for one appreciate that decision."

The cable car station emerged from the trees in front of them. It tilted crazily to the right. They came to a stop. "I… um. I don't think we should try to go in there," Sam said quietly.

"Seconded. Do we just keep heading to the lodge?"

"I guess so. If the girls didn't reach Matt or if they decided to call in help… we don't have much time left."

The air was colder. Sam glanced towards the sky. Grey clouds lay low and heavy over them, a slight bright spot the only indicator of the sun. It was lowering towards the mountains. Bad sign. "I think it might snow soon."

"Then we better get a move on. We need some kind of shelter. We should get to the lodge and see what kind of shape it's in."

It was in awful shape, as it turned out. They should have expected it. On some level, they had known, yet after so long spent in the lodge, the mixed emotions of her memories, Sam had half-expected it to be exactly as it had been. The doors and windows of the front were blown outwards, the face of the lodge a blackened ruin. The lodge was huge; at least part of it still stood, but it seemed impossible to access. They'd have to get through the wreckage, or possibly find some entrance around back.

"I vote we don't sleep there tonight. It looks seriously unstable."

"Melinda warned me," Sam said with a sigh. "Our options are running out and, I don't know about you, but I really don't want to sleep in the Sanatorium."

"The guest cabin?"

"Really?" She glanced over at Mike and he shrugged.

"I mean, at least it didn't explode. We kind of did a number on the buildings up here."

"I'm just surprised you'd want to go back."

He rubbed his injured hand and popped the lid on his pill bottle, downing two. He dry-swallowed them and flashed a smile at her. "Everywhere up here had some bad shit happen. Jess lived. I can deal with the memories."

"It might be a bit far if we're waiting for Jess and Em. Were there any other structures around here?"

"The shed with the dead Josh trap?"

Sam shuddered. "Absolutely not."

Mike straightened and grinned at her. "The generator shed!"

She blinked at him. "The what?"

"It's by the gate to the path to the cabin! It's this little shed building with the generator in it. It's pretty sturdy and we definitely didn't blow it up."

She laughed with relief when they found it, throwing her arms around Mike in an enthusiastic hug. "You're a genius! It's perfect." It was small, but just as sturdy as he'd described. It had small windows and a heavy door that stood open. It was close enough to the lodge that they should be able to hear or see the girls if—no, when—they arrived.

They decided to wait, to wait for morning and hope the girls caught up to them by then. Darkness fell and they picked watches. Sam set up the electric lantern to be a beacon to Jess and Em, setting it by the doorway. Mike pillowed his head on his arms and promptly fell asleep.

Sam stared out into the night, waiting. She was glad he'd agreed to sleep first. She couldn't sleep right now, even if she'd wanted to. They were so close.

It really means a lot to me that everyone came back this year and you know, that you came, Sam.

How long had he been planning to hurt them? Had he always intended to chase her around as he had, naked and wet and alone? She didn't like to think she was so predictable, but she was a sucker for a hot bath. Had he known? Or guessed that she would do that?

Sam had thought a lot about hell in the weeks following that night. She wasn't raised religiously by any stretch of the imagination and had never felt any sort of driving curiosity about organized religion, so the concept of hell remained an amorphous one. But after they got back down here after the seemingly endless rounds of questioning, it had suddenly seemed much more pertinent.

If hell was a punishment, then surely Josh was living in it now. For a second she tried to imagine that they would find him dead, the way she had described to Mike when he'd first tried to convince her to return. It had seemed like the only possibility then, but somewhere along the way, she'd lost her ability to believe it. Josh was here. She could practically feel him, the way his body burned hot even when his hands were freezing.

On the ground beside her, Mike made a soft noise in his sleep, something between a murmur and a whimper and she looked down at him. She'd seen him sleep before. He'd slept like the dead: all trace of his cocky smile would vanish from his features and he'd always looked younger and more innocent. But now he looked older, brow furrowed and mouth in a tense, thin line. Was he having a nightmare? If so, it seemed mild enough to not merit interruption. Every moment of sleep now might be vital later.

She looked back towards the night outside, where a light snow had begun to fall.

Beth stood in the snow, watching her.

Her heart thudded painfully in her throat. "Beth?" Sam's voice broke slightly on the word.

Beth watched her, face calm and unchanging. Her feet and legs were bare, as were her arms. She wore only a simple shift dress, floating down to end just above her knees. The snow didn't seem to touch her, as if her body created some air current shield that sent the flakes drifting away. Beth looked down at Mike's sleeping form, then turned and began to walk away.

"No, wait!" The words exploded from Sam. "Beth, please?" Was she dreaming again? Every fiber of her being screamed that this was impossible and couldn't be real. It must be a dream. Mike didn't wake, although he stirred restlessly. She must have fallen asleep at her post. She should try to wake up. And yet…

Glancing back, Beth beckoned to Sam but didn't stop moving.

Sam swallowed hard and followed, clenching her fists at her sides. What other choice was there in a dream like this one?

Beth led her down the path, back towards the lodge. The walk, long enough when awake, seemed unending. Moonlight poured through a break in the clouds to turn the snow a dazzling white. The front of the lodge was just as it had been when she'd seen it with Mike: a blackened shell, large portions entirely gone. The dead girl didn't hesitate, stepping directly into the wreckage. Her legs passed through the remnants of the wall. Sam followed, climbing awkwardly through.

Together they wound through the ruin of the lodge. Much of it was destroyed, almost unrecognizable. The grand staircase that had been such a focal point was nearly gone. What was left was clearly unstable, yet Beth began to climb. It was a dream, after all, Sam reasoned. She would follow Beth.

The staircase held under her weight and she ascended to the second floor. Beth never looked back and they walked together to a mostly-intact door.

Again, Beth walked through it and Sam turned the knob, heart pounding. She knew where they were.

Beth's room.

Like Hannah's, it looked like the Washingtons hadn't done anything to it. The bed was made neatly, the books all shelved, the pictures straight on the blue walls. It still smelled like Beth: like vanilla soap and cinnamon and paper and ink. Only now it mingled with the scent of smoke and ruin.

She wasn't sure what to do. She had expected this room to be destroyed. Truthfully, she'd expected the lodge to be in much worse shape than it was.

Beth pointed to the bed.

"What do you want me to do?" Sam fidgeted slightly, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Is there something I'm supposed to see?"

For the first time, Beth's face changed expression, tipping forward slightly with raised eyebrows. It was a look calling Sam an idiot, albeit with affection. It was so familiar it made her want to laugh. Beth pointed again at the bed, more aggressively.

"You want me to lie down?"

Beth nodded.

Sam was exhausted. The bed looked incredibly inviting, with cool, mostly-clean blankets and pillows. A fine layer of soot brushed across them, but when she turned back the comforter, she couldn't resist. This was silly, sleeping in a dream, but the mattress was deliciously soft and before she could think any further, she was asleep.

Or maybe not.

She opened her eyes and sat up. Beth was still there, looking down at her. Something was different. Sam looked around the room, trying to pinpoint what it was.

Light. And not just the light. The bedside lamp was lit, illuminating the room. Any trace of the soot and wreckage was gone. The room was warm, properly insulated. She could hear music in the distance, muffled by walls and closed doors. And Beth looked different. She was less gaunt, her eyes sharper and warmer. Her hair looked clean and was pulled back. She wore sweatpants and a tank top, with fuzzy slippers.

"Beth?"

Her face broke into a wide smile and she rushed over to sit on the bed next to Sam. She grabbed Sam's hands; her fingers were freezing. "Sam. Oh Sam, I missed you so much."

"I don't understand what's going on." Sam shook her head. This was too much. Was this the same dream or a different one? What was real? How did you get here, Sammy?

"No—no, don't." She'd never heard Beth sound so frantic before. "Don't think too hard, Sam. Don't try to make yourself wake up. Please."

"So this is a dream?"

Beth bit her lip and nodded. "It's the only way I could talk to you. It's too hard to talk out there." She gestured vaguely. "And I just had to talk to you. God, Sam, I missed you so much. I've missed everyone so much."

"You're in my head."

"Sort of. I needed you to sleep. Thank you for following me." Beth's eyes unfocused slightly, then sharpened again. She grinned. "I'm glad you snuck in here. Hannah told me I wasn't allowed to hog you all to myself this trip."

"What? No, Beth, I— "

Beth shook her head hard, her short ponytail flipping wildly. "No, wait, you're right. I'm losing—I can't—" The other girl groaned and rubbed her forehead. "Just listen to me, Sam. I don't know how long we have. I don't know how long I have. You're looking for Josh, right?"

Sam didn't want to talk about this. She wanted to bask in the warm comfort of the familiar room and pretend nothing bad had ever happened. But she took a deep breath. "Yeah. He's in the mine, right?"

The other girl looked confused. "The mine? He's downstairs playing poker with Mike and Chris."

"Beth, what are you talking about? Chris? He's not here." There was the faint sound of laughter from below them, and a slight tapping sound, like an impatient person drumming their fingers on the table.

"No, he's… oh fuck. Sam, I'm sorry. It's… hard. It's foggy, out there. Hard to see, hard to do anything. I try to talk to him like this, like we're talking, but I'm not sure what he sees or hears or believes. He's losing it, I think. And I think… I think he did something bad. Something really, really bad, Sam. He needs you. Now. Soon." The tapping was louder, more immediate. It was at the window. Sam turned to look and Beth caught her face. "No. Don't look at it."

"Look at what? What is that?"

"Something old. Something bad."

Carefully, Beth leaned forward and pressed her lips to Sam's. Her face was wet and Sam could taste salt. "Beth, are you okay?"

Beth laughed softly, her breath brushing against Sam's skin. "I'm dead, Sam. Of course I'm okay. Nothing can hurt me now, right?"

The tapping grew louder. Tip tap tap. The sound was rhythmic, an almost recognizable pattern. Tip-tip tap. Tip-tip tap. Tap tap TAP. Beth's skin was cold. The room was losing its comforting warmth. Wind came from somewhere, carrying with it the scent of wet charcoal and snow. "But I—"

Sam blinked. She was looking up at a white plaster ceiling. Brown-mottled water damage spread across most of it. Here and there the remnants of glow-in-the-dark constellations remained. She could see part of Orion's belt and the hindquarters of Ursa Major. Beth's room. Cold air stung at her face and right hand, where she wasn't covered in blankets. She sat up abruptly.

Beth's room. She was really in Beth's room.

"Fuck."

It was in remarkably good shape. From somewhere outside, pale light filtered into the room, showing her old, familiar details, worn now with weather and the decay of a breached house. All around her, the house groaned in the wind. What once was a veritable fortress was straining under nature's thumb.

She had to get out of there. The walls pressed in around her. She shouldn't be here. Had she been sleepwalking? "Fuck, fuck, fuck," she muttered under her breath, throwing off the covers. She was still dressed, mercifully.

Easing her way down the staircase slowly, she winced at every creak and crack. Had she done this in her sleep? Or had she actually followed some version of Beth? Swearwords seemed inadequate.

It was still dark outside, though that strange pre-dawn feeling lay over the grounds. She rushed to the generator shed, drawn in by the lantern's pale glow.

Just as she entered, Mike jolted awake, throwing himself to his feet and looking around wildly. "What—what's wrong? What happened?"

She opened her mouth to tell him, then thought better of it. Now that she was back, she wasn't even sure she could believe it herself. "I… um. Nothing. I went for a walk."

He looked out at the fresh snow and brightening light. "You were supposed to wake me up."

"It's fine. I wasn't tired."

"Sam—"

"I'm sorry. I promise: next time I'll wake you up." Sam had trouble meeting his eyes. She wanted to tell him, but couldn't find any way to explain. "We should try to find Josh today."

"The girls?"

She sighed. "We'll leave a note for them on the lodge door. Either they're safe and they just haven't made it or Matt's called in help. So either they're going to find the note we leave or we don't have much time."

They ended up wedging the note into a crack on the ruined front door. It would have to do, Sam thought. If her dream had actually been Beth, they had even less time than she'd already thought. After a brief debate, they headed for the mine entrance where the monsters had dragged Jess. It had the elevator, Mike had reasoned, and had seemed like a stable and certain way down.

Sam strapped her headlamp on and tossed Mike the spare flashlight. He grimaced. "I was so determined to be prepared this time and then left my bag behind like an idiot."

"Better than a lighter."

"And I have that too," he said, patting his coat pocket.

"Then I guess it's time. Let's do it."

They began their descent down the elevator shaft and if Sam heard a slight tapping from above, she ignored it.

-o-

"I smell awful," Jess muttered. "I would kill for running water."

Emily rolled her eyes, pausing to rest on a collapsing sofa. "You don't smell any worse than usual."

"Ouch."

"We should try to sleep again at some point." They had crashed for a few hours in some kind of parlor that had smelled strongly of mothballs and age.

"I'm not tired." Jess stretched up towards the ceiling, then folded forward. Her entire body complained loudly. Straightening, the room around her seemed to spin and she caught herself on the wall. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to keep her face calm and unconcerned.

A hand on her arm made her open her eyes again. Emily frowned at her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"Jess…" Em gave her a look.

She shook her head and immediately regretted it. Instead she gave a little self-deprecating laugh. "It's really fine. I just… the doctor said I hurt my head pretty bad when I… when that thing pulled me into the mine and the elevator collapsed. It's not a big deal. Just sometimes I get a little dizzy. It's already better than it was."

"Seriously? And you still came?" Emily's brow furrowed for a moment before she turned away abruptly. "You're so fucking stupid, Jess."

"Emily, can you knock that off already? I get it, okay. You hate me and you wish I'd died in the rockslide so you didn't have to deal with me. But I didn't. So can you just, please, stop? Let's get out of here and then you never have to see me again, okay?" It was just too much. Her head ached. She was hungry and her body was exhausted, even though she didn't want to sleep. On top of everything else, this was too much.

Emily mumbled something, still turned away.

"What? I can't hear you."

"I don't wish you died."

"I was exaggerating," Jess said tiredly. "You know. Overstatement for emphasis."

"I don't—" Emily's shoulders sagged. "I don't hate you."

The silence of the ruined building was oppressive. Jess rubbed her forehead. "Then why—"

Em rounded on her. "Because you're going to get yourself killed. I don't get it. Are you trying to die? Is that what you want?" The words burst from her. "Why would you insist on coming back here when your head is messed up? I mean, fuck, Jess. Are you that fucking determined to die?"

"I—"

"You almost died last time," Emily continued, throwing her free hand into the air. "What makes you think it'd be different this time? Look at you. You're having trouble standing up straight. And you're here, dressed up like some wannabe soldier, thinking that's enough to guarantee your safety? I just don't understand why you…" Her voice faltered. "Why you would put yourself in danger like this."

Emily swallowed hard and turned away again quickly. Jess took a step forward, reaching, then dropped her hand. "I don't want to die."

The other girl shrugged and shook her head, not saying anything or looking back.

"I don't. Em, I had to come back. I tried to explain it to Mike and I think he understands, at least a little."

"Mike's an idiot."

Jess laughed. "Yeah, sometimes. But he got it, I think. It's like… Em, all of you lived through something. Something bigger than I can even really believe. You all lived through it. I… I survived it. Barely. I spent most of it unconscious or alone in the dark. I barely saw the thing that grabbed me, really. And then when it was hunting me later with Matt, I still only barely saw it."

"You should be grateful."

"And I am, I guess. I mean, I would have definitely died if I'd had a better look. But at the same time, it's like… it's like realizing that you're a side character in a story. And the idea that you guys might come back here, to save Josh without me… It would just confirm that. I couldn't do that. I couldn't just sit on the sidelines and wait to hear if you were coming back alive." She took another step and touched Emily's arm gently. "Is that why you were so mean? You wanted me to go back?"

Emily turned towards her and shrugged again, not quite meeting her eyes. "I don't want you to die."

Jess bit back a smile. "I don't want you to die either."

It wasn't an apology or a declaration.

But it came close.

-o-

It watched them climb.

The boy was clumsy and awkward, doubtless due to his missing fingers. The girl was faster but holding herself back.

It was hungry.

It was impatient.

It was bored.

Hunger could be dealt with, at least temporarily. It always could. It always had been.

Boredom was harder.

Stroking the button on the communication device, it drummed its fingers on the plastic surface and smiled.

It would wait.

It would be worth it.