Chapter Fifteen:

Catching Up

"We have to go get it," Mike said, springing to his feet.

Jess tugged him back down again. The four of them were sitting in the generator shed, sharing their stories. Mike and Sam had provided the bullet points of their adventure so far, including finding Josh and being attacked. Neither had mentioned the incident in the yard, skipping straight to the others finding them.

Jess and Emily recounted their trek through the mine, Emily's arm, the old hotel, and Josh's trap. They seemed uncertain, even cagey, about the story after that. They'd gone to the sanitorium and gotten separated. Jess had found the guy's cache. That's where the story derailed completely, as Mike eagerly jumped on the mention of the weapon. "I don't even know if that's what it was. I'm not exactly an expert on flamethrower technology, you know."

"Yeah, but if that is what it is and it still works? We need it. You guys didn't see the thing that attacked us. It was big. Scary big. Sam?" Mike looked to her for confirmation.

After a moment, she nodded firmly. "Yeah. We need it. Even if it doesn't work, you said there was rice down there? We need that. Who knows how long we're going to be up here."

"But…" Emily's voice faltered and she and Jess shared a glance that Sam couldn't decipher. "It's dangerous up there."

"You said that before. What's so dangerous? I mean, it's probably unstable like the lodge, but what else makes it so scary?"

"Um, yeah. Unstable. It's just in really bad shape. And there were animals and stuff. Like this wolf that—" Jess caught Emily's glare and fell silent again.

"A wolf?" Mike perked up. "Was it white?"

Jess bit her lip and nodded unwillingly.

He whooped, making all three girls jump slightly. "Shut up, Mike. You want to bring the thing back?" Emily snapped, kicking him in the shin.

"Ow. Sorry. But that's awesome! I love that guy! Or girl, I don't really know. We should definitely go get the stuff. I can look for my buddy too."

"I fucking knew it. The second you said 'wolf,' I knew he was going to be running off into the stupid snow to find it," Em glared at Jessica, who shrugged helplessly. She turned to Mike instead. "That is a terrible idea. It is a wild animal. You think it's going to remember you? After everything that happened?"

Sam sighed and rubbed her eyes. They needed a plan. They needed a better plan than just stumbling through the woods and hoping for the best. They needed their supplies, a safe place to hole up, and a way to find Josh. If she could just think for a moment, she was sure she could come up with something, but her exhausted brain just jumped from one random thought to another. For fuck's sake, she was having trouble even looking at Mike without blushing. Her body ached from being thrown through the wall. Her head was killing her. She was hungry. All she wanted was to curl up in a bed they didn't have access to and drink a soy hot chocolate she couldn't get and listen to the Goldberg Variations with the big cushy headphones she'd left in her dorm room.

But none of that helped her now. So a plan. A plan was necessary.

"Okay," she said finally, putting a halt to the wolf debate. "We need to go get our supplies from the mine. We need to find Josh and a new safe place to sleep. And, if possible, we should try to get the rice and, if it works, the flamethrower. Who wants to do what?"

"Flamethrower," Mike said, raising his hand. "I can try to find it by directions if no one wants to go with me."

Sam shook her head. "No. No one should go anywhere alone if we can help it."

Jess raised her hand tentatively. "I'll show him." She met Emily's fierce gaze with one of her own. "It'll be fine. We'll get it and the rice and then meet you guys somewhere."

"So that leaves Em—want to go with me to get the stuff from the mine?"

"Not really, but I'm don't think that's really a question. How do you know the thing that attacked you guys won't be down there? Aren't all these wendigo things totally at home in the mine?"

"I don't. But I remember seeing something in Flamethrower Guy's journal about them being largely nocturnal. If—when Josh gets away from it, I think it'll probably retreat to eat or rest or something. And at the very least, we really can't afford to leave the stuff down there. We need supplies. And the meds."

"Meds?"

"Long story. I'll tell you on the way." Sam took a deep breath and looked around the small group, trying to look confident and resolute. "Okay. So now all we need is a place to meet up. Easy."

Emily scoffed. "Easy? What about that is easy? The sanitorium is a disaster. This place is tiny and we'd be trapped here if it attacked us. The guest cabin has all the broken windows and the lodge is a mess. Where are we supposed to go?"

"The cable car station?" Jess offered.

Sam considered it, then shook her head. "We saw it after the rockslide. It's not stable. It could collapse down the mountain at any second and if the storm keeps up, it might."

"I know it's not ideal, but what about the old hotel?" Mike asked quietly. "It's big and stable. There's places to hide and we could probably reinforce some areas to keep that thing at bay. We might even be able to get the cameras working if we're really lucky. And I know Josh could find his way there if we left the right clues for him."

Emily climbed to her feet and brushed at the dirt on her pants. It made no difference Sam could see, but it seemed to make Em feel better all the same. She reached out a hand and hauled Sam to standing. "Let's go then. I don't want to be in the mine any longer than I have to be. You two take the aboveground route to the sanitorium and we'll meet in the old hotel. We can shoot for the stupid Psycho room. At least we've all been there before." She shot Mike a dirty look. "And this time there will be no 'let's shoot Emily' debate."

She turned on her heel and left, gesturing for Sam to follow her. Sam glanced at Mike and tried to smile, but it felt more like an awkward grimace than anything else. He flashed her a quick smile back, just a little quirk of the lips that seemed oddly sad. Then she followed Emily out into the snow towards the lodge.

As they neared the building, Emily hung back to let Sam take the lead. They walked in silence, both on edge at the slightest sound, but didn't see anything as they made their way down through the basement and into the tunnels. Sam clicked on her headlamp and frowned at the mine. When this was all over, she was never going underground again, spelunking be damned. If you make it out alive, murmured a little voice in her head. Gritting her teeth, she kept walking.

It was odd being with Emily after so long with Mike. She didn't know her very well and had no idea how to talk to her. Dozens of questions battled for Sam's attention, begging to be asked, but the thought of breaking the silence of the mine made her nervous. Then a question occurred to her that was too important to let lie. "Have you been able to get ahold of Matt?" she asked softly, shining her light around the tunnel until she spotted another chalk arrow marking her path with Mike. The mine was quiet, save for its usual ambient soundtrack of drips.

The other girl shrugged and nodded. "After the rockslide. Actually, it was only a little bit after we talked to you guys. There was a lot of static, but it worked. Have you not talked to him?"

Sam stared at her. Her brain was still moving slowly, struggling to put things together, but she could feel the wrongness of Emily's words under her skin. "A little bit after you talked to us?"

"Uh, yeah?" Emily frowned at her. "You know, right after the rockslide. You told us to meet you at the lodge? We could only hear every few words, but it was definitely you."

"Mike lost his pack in the rockslide."

"So?"

She could hardly bear to say it. "Our radio was in his pack."

It took a moment for the thought to land, then the other girl went pale. "Fuck," she said, voice shaking slightly. "Oh, fuck."

Sam swallowed hard. "Okay. Um… okay. Nothing we can do about it now. That just means… We can't use your radio any more. Or we can't trust anything that we hear from it. It must have the radio. It was pretending to be me. Does that mean… were you even talking to Matt?"

"I don't know." Emily tapped her fingers on the radio clipped to her belt nervously. "It sounded like him. But I think we have to assume it wasn't him."

"But no rescue vehicles yet. So Matt didn't tell anyone."

Emily straightened. "Then it must have talked to him too. Matt would have sent in people if he thought we were real danger, which he would have if he hadn't heard from us. Fuck. It's fucking toying with us. Just keeping us up here and isolated so that it can have more fucking fun." She looked furious. Sam had the distinct impression that she was about to cuss out the darkness loudly. She grabbed Em by the elbow, shaking her head warningly.

"We have to keep going. We need to get the stuff and get out of here. We can figure things out then."

Emily opened her mouth to argue, then nodded sharply. "Fine."

They didn't speak as they continued to follow the chalk marks. It was surprisingly easy to navigate the mine with directions like that. In fact, coming back made Sam feel like she could probably navigate well even without the chalk. She had no desire to put that to the test, though.

The pack was where she'd left it, as was a lot of the food. Josh hadn't eaten all of it, having either decided to follow Mike's advice or having been distracted into following them to the lodge. She shoveled the small pile of remaining food back into the bag while Emily wrapped up the sleeping bag as best she could with one arm still bound in its sling. The journal went into the front pocket and she buckled it shut. The bottle of pills was still in its place and she allowed herself a sigh of relief. She hadn't wanted to think about what she would do if they were gone.

"Ready?" Emily held the sleeping bag hanging from her good arm. Her face was drawn and tense. Sam wanted to ask her more about what she and Jess had found, to get the details she knew Em was leaving out, but there would be time for that later.

"Yeah." She started to turn, shouldering the pack, then she realized—how could Josh find them again if they left? He was still so out of it, it was unlikely he'd figure out they'd relocated. He'd be convinced they were a dream or something. And she had to get him more of the medicine, bring him back to lucidity, so they could figure this out. "Wait a sec, Emily. I have an idea."

Sam pulled out her chalk. She had told Josh—We'll come back. We're marking our way so we don't get lost—and he must have followed the markings at least once, to find them in the lodge. She didn't dare leave clear marks this time, not when they were being hunted by something smart enough to cobble stolen words together into whole thoughts and use the radio, but she could leave a clue. A clue that hopefully Josh would understand and the other wendigo wouldn't. Maybe it couldn't even read. She wasn't willing to chance it, though.

The chalk was nearly ground to nothing by the time she was done. Emily pursed her lips, but didn't say anything, instead surveying the tunnels and openings around them with distrust.

"Okay. Now I'm ready. Let's go."

Em nodded, once. They went.

-o-

The snow stung her face as they trudged along, boots sinking into the fresh snow with every step. Jess felt herself growing increasingly tense the closer they got to the sanitorium. She cast a nervous glance over her shoulder at Mike, who smiled reassuringly. It was small comfort, though. She doubted Hannah would be any nicer to her because he was present. She'd probably be nine thousand times worse.

It was hard to keep from looking at him repeatedly as they hiked along the path. After so long separated, it felt weird to be with Mike. She missed Em's scowl and snarky insistence that she wasn't afraid of anything. After her fourth or fifth look back, he finally spoke up. "Okay, I have to know. What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Liar. What's got you so freaked out?"

She floundered about for a reason he'd believe. "Just an unstable building and the mountain is creepy and—"

"Hey." He grabbed her arm to slow her down and tugged her to face him. "Come on."

"Um…" She felt stupid. He was going to laugh at her, but she couldn't deny that he deserved to know. "Ghosts." He didn't say anything, nor did he laugh. Instead he just frowned, brow furrowing.

"Who's ghost?"

Really? It was going to be that easy? "Hannah's."

"Oh."

Jess turned her attention back to the trail and tried to explain, the words coming with stumbling hesitancy. "Em doesn't want to believe it, although how she could not believe it at this point… She knows it's Hannah. She's just being stubborn. It was Hannah and she… she's crazy, Mike. Like, super crazy. She wants to kill us. Em and me, at least."

"How do you know she wants to kill you?"

"Because she tried to do it. She tried to kill me. Or, I guess, she tried to get me to let her kill me? She was—she's broken. She's all alone up here." Her heart ached at the thought. She still wasn't entirely convinced that she should be standing here, alive. Maybe if she'd let Hannah kill her, had overruled Em's insistence on staying alive, then maybe this would all be okay. Or at least marginally less hopeless. Maybe Hannah would be at peace. She deserved it, after everything.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Not all alone."

Shooting him a look, she scoffed. "Right. Because crazy-monster-Josh is great company. Or company at all."

"Why didn't you tell us before we split up? Sam would want to know this."

"Because I didn't think you guys would believe me. Shit, Em doesn't even really believe it and she saw it all with her own two eyes. Of course, she's so deep in denial it's amazing she doesn't drown, but still."

"You should have said something."

She nodded. "Yeah. I know. And, hey, look… I don't know what we'll find when we get up there. Hannah had us trapped in this little graveyard that she couldn't get into for some reason—I was not about to question it—and then she vanished after a bit. Then the sun started to come up and we just decided to make a run for it. She didn't show up when we were heading for the lodge. I'm not sure if she was busy or what. Maybe she's not a fan of daylight. That's a thing in ghost stories, right?"

Mike shrugged helplessly. "No idea. I'm kind of out of my depth with monsters, let alone ghosts."

"Right? This was not in my post-high-school plan. But I'm not sure if she'll still be up there or what she'll do. So let's just get in and out as quick as we can."

"Yeah. Good plan. Then we can get to the old hotel and find the others." They resumed their trek. Behind her, Jess heard him mutter softly to himself: "Ghosts. Of course. Of course ghosts. Why not ghosts? Why not Hannah's ghost? Fuck."

Somehow, she found his agitation reassuring.

They saw no sign of Hannah or the wolf as they approached. In fact, they saw no animals of any kind or, thankfully, the wendigo. They dropped down through the window to the basement and made their way through the obstacle course of rubble in silence, Jess leading the way as best she could. Finally they reached a room she recognized and she looked around, trying to pinpoint where the fake wall had been.

"There," she said, pointing.

Mike shifted the wall piece and rested it to the side. He squatted down to examine the contraption. He nodded to her. "You were right. I think it is a flamethrower. Not an official one, but maybe one he made himself. Like a backup. I think—" He twisted the valve on the tank and sniffed at the nozzle, then made a face and twisted the valve the other way. "Yeah. Gas. It probably still works. Or it might explode. Either way, it'll be useful."

"Hey, just because you're into blowing things up…"

He looked wounded and pressed a hand to his chest. "I do not like blowing things up."

"Then why was the lodge on fire?" she asked sweetly.

"That was a tactical move. And not an explosion."

"All the same, I'll be taking this, thanks. I don't want you to get trigger happy, Mister Pyro."

He sighed and helped her put it on. It was lighter than she'd expected. Mike shoved the bag of rice into Jess's pack and nodded to her. "Let's go."

After a brief debate, they decided to go through the tunnels to the mine to get back to the old hotel. They climbed back up to the main floor and made their way to the back stairs. As they headed back down, something occurred to Jess. "Oh, uh. I think the door might be sealed."

"Sealed?" Mike gripped the handle and pulled. The door opened with a screeching groan.

"Or not. Never mind. When we first came out here, the door shut and then we couldn't get it open." She thought about Hannah's wicked smile and her stomach clenched painfully. "Probably just weather-related. Metal got too cold or something."

He did not look convinced.

"So…" she said as they headed into the passageway. "You guys found Josh."

Mike grunted in affirmation. "Sort of."

"Sort of?" Mike and Sam hadn't said much about it during their lightning round catch up. Just that they'd found him and that he was pretty out of it, but that he distracted the monster when it attacked them.

"He's loopy. Super out of it. Hallucinating and everything, just like before. And, well, he's… um…" He made a face. "Turning into a monster?"

"What?!" Jess swatted him on the arm. "Why didn't you tell us? Holy shit, Mike. That's huge!"

"I didn't know what to say. It didn't feel like my place, I guess. I figured Sam—" He broke off and sighed, running his hand over his face. "I don't know."

She frowned. "So, wait, what does that mean? Is he, like, hungry for human flesh? But he helped you. But the wendigos are evil, right? Can he still talk? Does he sound like other people?" Jess could hear herself starting to babble and bit off more questions. Mike wouldn't meet her eyes and was fiddling with the straps on her pack, looking pained.

"No, he's… he's just like he was. Nuts. Hallucinating and babbling and stuff. Sam got drugs from Dr. Hill that should help, but he's only taken two so far. He's sort of feral, but also kind of himself. It just depends. I don't know. Sam… she thinks there might be a cure. I guess there's something in that guy's journal." He shook his head. "I don't know. But I know that we have to try, right?"

"Sam thinks there's a cure? What is it?"

"Ask her." His voice was clipped, unexpectedly abrupt.

Jess narrowed her eyes. She knew Mike. She fancied she knew him pretty well, actually, and this was weird. Everything about this was weird, of course, but especially the way he was talking about Sam. Like he wanted Jess to drop the subject and never bring it up again, ever. And that, quite frankly, was bullshit. "Okay, Hot Stuff. Your turn. Out with it. What's eating you? And I don't mean the monster stuff. You're being weird." He wouldn't meet her eyes and she almost smiled. Suspicion confirmed. "Seriously, Mike. Tell me."

He rubbed the back of his neck, flushing slightly. Jess cuffed him lightly on the arm again. "You're blushing. Oh my god, Mike. You have to tell me now. Don't make me pester it out of you. You know I can, too."

"You really want to do this now?"

"Hey, we might be dead in another half an hour. At this point, I want any joy I can possibly get, and a blushing President Munroe is the best thing I can think of at the moment. Well, besides a cheeseburger and a hot shower."

He looked awkward. "It's nothing."

"It is not nothing. I can tell it's not nothing."

"I'm an idiot."

"I knew that. That's not something new."

"Gee, thanks."

Despite the revelation about Josh, Jess giggled and adjusted the flamethrower's tank on her shoulders. It was heavy, but the weight was reassuring. It was a weapon. She liked weapons. It made her feel more confident and capable. She wanted to try it, to watch flame tear apart the cool air, but she knew she should save the fuel. Who knew if there was more up here? "Come on," she wheedled again, batting her eyes at him. "What did you doooooo?" She drew out the last word, waggling her eyebrows playfully.

"I… I kissed Sam." The words came out in a rush and he covered his face with his hand.

She stared at him. That was not what she had been expecting. "You what?"

"Don't make me say it again." His voice was muffled. "I'm such a fucking idiot. She's never going to speak to me again."

"You… kissed… Sam..." Jess burst into laughter. "Oh my god—"

Before she could say anything more, there was a low hoowuff from the tunnel and they both turned. The wolf was watching them, its mouth hanging open in a canine grin.

"Wolfie!" Mike squatted down and opened his arms, as if expecting the wolf to throw itself at him in joy. Instead it trotted over and sat about a foot away, tail thumping slightly on the ground. Mike laughed. "Fair enough." He reached out and let it sniff his fingers. "It's really good to see you, dude. You're looking well. Handsome. Dapper, even. Good show."

"You are such a fucking dork, Munroe. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Almost daily," he said, smiling at her. The worries weren't quite wiped from his face, but he looked decidedly more at ease scratching the wolf's ears. "Do you want to come with us?"

The wolf stood, expectantly.

Jess settled the flamethrower more firmly onto her shoulders. "Alrighty then. To the old hotel. And wait until you see the hot springs. I think we could all benefit from a bath, don't you think, Wolfie?"

-o-

Josh was dreaming.

Or, actually, he wasn't sure. It felt like a dream. A nightmare, really. Sort of. He was strong and fast and hungry – so, so hungry – but there was something bigger, stronger, hungrier behind him. He could hear it coming, though it made little noise. His ribs stung from where its claws had gouged him and he could feel a thin trickle of blood running down the side of his face. The familiar scenery of the mountain flashed around him as he bolted, leaping to climb across the shed where he'd faked his death, then down and around the back, through the trees, past the guest cabin, and on.

It was like when he used to imagine being Spiderman, except without the web shooters. He darted past Chris, who gave him a dirty look. Yeah, yeah. It was a thing he'd been corrected on before: in the original comics, Peter Parker built the web shooters himself. They weren't part of him. No, wait. Chris wasn't there. He glanced back, but saw no sign of the blond, bespectacled kid. Or was he? Had he left with the others? Was he here with Sam? Was Sam here?

The thing that was chasing him snarled and he let that line of thinking drop. The sun was coming up now, the forest brightening, even as snow continued to fall. It was cold. He knew that objectively, but it was also easier to ignore now than it had been only a few days ago. That was interesting. A good thing, maybe. Or not. He leaped, throwing himself up into a pine tree and sending snow flying. He was getting tired. That always seemed to happen when the sun came up. Or at least, he thought it did. It was hard to tell if the sun was up when he was in the mine.

The mine.

He could go back there, but the thought made his skin crawl. He was out. He was finally out. The air seemed impossibly crisp and clear, flavored with pine needles and wood and just a hint of smoke from the lodge.

A shout that was half-whoop, half-shriek ripped from his throat. It was delightful. He was finally free. He could go anywhere.

He could hunt.

The thought came out of nowhere—a gentle whisper in the back of his mind. He could find prey. He was strong now. He was fast now. There were animals. There were… other things. He ran the tip of his tongue over the sharper of his teeth and smiled, then his stomach heaved with revulsion and he shook his head.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

Josh looked back, but there was no sign of the beast that had been chasing him. Sometime during his wild, joyous, terrified run, it had stopped following him. He stopped abruptly, clinging to the log he was on with fingernails that seemed overlong. His mother would be ashamed of him. He should find some nail clippers. Where did the thing go? He had the nagging sensation that he'd seen the monster before, though he had no idea where or when, or even if the sensation was a lie. Maybe it just reminded him of the monster Hannah had become.

Where had it gone, though? That was the pressing question. Had it gone somewhere to sleep? Or eat?

Food, the whisper came again. Hunt.

No—he yanked his thoughts back to the present. Yeah, he was starving, but why did thoughts of food consume him? For a moment, he thought he could smell blood again. Blood. Like Sam's blood. The rich, metallic tang of it had set all his senses on fire. Coupled with the scent that always seemed to cling to Sam, it had been almost intolerable. Sam had smelled like dirt and rocks and blood and metal, but under that he could still make out the old, familiar Sam: that unnamable distinctive scent that reminded him of coffee and daffodils and almonds and all the other things that didn't really go together but always seemed connected to her anyway.

Thank Poseidon and Odin and any other various deity paying attention that Munroe had been there to hit him with that flashlight.

Actually, no, fuck that guy.

He dragged his nails down his face, letting the pain help him sort out his thoughts. What to do, where to go, how to find her again… "She's just another hallucination," he muttered, then dug his nails deeper, hissing. "No." No. That wasn't true. He was out. He was out of the mine. That could only have happened if he'd had signs to follow. Those could only exist if she was here.

He had to go back.

If he gave himself too much time to think, he wouldn't go back into the dark. He knew that, could feel the reluctance in his bones. So he threw himself forward, hurtling back towards the lodge. That's where she would go. That's where she thought he was, unless Munroe had told her otherwise. Even if he had, though, it was Sam. Sam never gave up on him. Sam never left him, not on purpose. Sam would find him. He would find her. He would get more of her pills, he would touch her face and she would fix whatever it was that was wrong with him. Maybe she could drive the creeping coldness out of his veins and he would finally stop being hungry.

There was no sign of the thing that had chased him. Josh didn't slow down or let himself hesitate. He slipped into the ruins of the lodge, hopping across the burned wreckage of the living room and down the broken hall to the door to the basement.

He knew the layout so well he could navigate it in his sleep, and nearly had before. Funny that it had taken him so long to get out of the mine, yet only minutes to get back into it now. His eyes seemed to have adjusted from his long days down below; it was easy to see, even in the near-darkness of the tunnels. He wanted to stroke and kiss every mark he saw, to taste the chalk on his lips and know that it was real.

Instead he just followed them back, tracing them down the tunnels and to the familiar, hellish scene that was the landing outside the elevator.

Josh stopped dead.

Sam was not there. Not only was she not there, but her bag, the food, the sleeping bag… everything was gone. On the ground, scrawled in narrow red letters, were three lines:

I want to play a game. Everyone's entitled to one good scare, right?

Who's laughing now? A feminist, vegan punk.

A beautiful, bathing bird.

He stared at the message, the energy draining from him. She wasn't here. She had come back and taken her stuff and left. Gone home. Given up. Or she'd never been here at all and even this message was in his imagination. He read it again. It made no sense—just the kind of bullshit he'd expect from his own fucked up brain.

Hannah and Beth were hanging from the elevator cage again, grinning at him with mouths too wide, eyes too bright. "Oh Jo-osh…" Beth called in a sing-song. "Did you even leave the mine at all?"

His legs gave way and he hit the ground hard, the shock of it jarring up from his knees. The words swam in front of him. They seemed so familiar. Of course, they would be. They were his words, right? His stupid fucking brain messing with him. Playing a trick, giving him false hope, just as it had so many times before.

"A beautiful, bathing bird," he whispered. That hadn't been a planned line. He'd jotted down notes before luring her into the cinema room for her portion of the plan, but that hadn't been one of them. It had just been true. He'd watched the image of her on the screen, thought about the pure peace of her face in the bath, surrounded by candles, and the words had just come out, unbidden.

"I want to play a game." Had he actually said that too? No… he didn't think so. He knew that line, had heard it before, but not in his voice.

"Holy fucking hell…" He jumped to his feet, ignoring the shrieking of his sisters' corpses on the cage. He read the lines again, his teeth making him slur the words slightly as he mumbled them to himself. He knew all the lines. And only the very last one was his.

Saw. Halloween. Evil Dead 2. Saw again. The footage of Sam bathing.

The cinema room.

Before the prank on Hannah had gone wrong, before his entire life had shattered beyond saving… they had all gathered in the cinema room to watch movies. Despite Jess's insistence that they watch something funny and lighthearted, Josh had won out and they'd watched some classic horror movies. Sam had hated Saw, but she'd liked that line about the feminist, vegan punk. It was meant to be derogatory, just a mocking joke, but she'd adopted it. She even signed his yearbook with it.

"Sam…"

It was her writing. He was… well, he was only about 80% sure, but that was enough. The cinema room. She wouldn't want to linger here, not with that monster around. It was a fragile hope, but it was something. He scrubbed at the words with his bare hands, ignoring the sandpaper feeling of the rough ground against his palms. Eventually they were reduced to smudges.

He ignored the girls as they howled, turning and heading back up the tunnel once more. Fuck he was hungry. He wanted food. And not the vegan crap Sam had offered him. He wanted meat: steak, or maybe something more. His gut heaved and he leaned against the wall for a moment, trying to keep the contents of his stomach down.

Chris was talking, saying something about anime character tropes. Josh shoved himself away from the wall. If he lingered, he would be stuck here, trapped in his own head again. Fuck that. Sam was waiting. The others were waiting.

The cinema room was empty, though largely intact. He shrank away from the mildewed posters, all horror films his dad had worked on or loved. The doors still didn't close properly, a legacy of the way he'd busted through them with the gas tank for Sam. She'd looked so terrified, so lost. He remembered the way she'd shrieked watching the footage of his faked death. It had been horrifying and beautiful and exactly what he'd wanted. It was proof. Proof that she cared, that at least one person would mourn his death.

There was another chalk message on the wall.

Hide and seek.

You were always good at that. You could see into all the hiding spots. Like you just knew.

He took a deep breath, trying to think. Were they quotes?

Then it hit him. It was so obvious. It was hardly even a riddle, if you knew their whole story. She, or at least another clue, would be where he could see into all the hiding spots. Why she would go there, he couldn't imagine, but then he couldn't really understand why she would have come back for him at all. He didn't deserve it.

Josh looked down at himself, at the barely recognizable shreds of the Psycho outfit. He didn't want to go there, go deeper into the shit he'd done. But it didn't seem like he was being given a choice. Not if he wanted help. Not if he wanted to see her again.

"Dammit," he muttered, heading for the basement again.

A/N: Leave a comment and feed your local starving writer. 3