Chapter Twenty-Seven:

Death is From Above

No one had time to react before the ceiling collapsed, sending shards of broken wood showering down over them. Sam shouted "Freeze!" at the exact same moment Josh shouted "Go!" Despite her frantic urge to stay still, Josh's exclamation made her lunge, just as he started to throw himself towards the figure slowly beginning to stand. She flung her arms around his waist and threw her entire weight into the move, driving him to the ground. "Stay still," she hissed, hoping desperately that he would listen to her for once.

"Let me fight it," he snapped. She braced herself for him to struggle, but, mercifully, he didn't.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Mike and Chris, frozen in place. Chris had the gun half-raised and his arms were already trembling from the effort of staying motionless. Mike's eyes flicked to meet hers and his eyebrows raised a fraction. She shook her head as subtly as she could. There was nothing he could do in this moment that wouldn't be certain to get him killed. Their best bet was staying still and trying to wait it out.

"Don't move, Josh," she whispered, keeping him pinned. He could throw her off easily, she knew, but he didn't. She could feel his entire body quivering with frustrated energy, like a worked-up dog locked in a kennel.

The thing straightened fully, standing tall on two legs in a mockery of humanity. It was too long, too thin—a playdough person on a taffy pull. It was odd, getting such a clear look at it. It was huge, as she'd already known, but seeing it standing upright put a whole new light. Its skin was grey and its eyes were wide and round. It was also naked, much as Hannah had been. Sam remembered some of the monsters having clothing scraps, but whatever or whoever this thing had once been, there was no trace of it now. It was so much bigger than Hannah. Sam just hoped it had the same weaknesses, including the vision movement and a short attention span.

But their luck couldn't hold forever. She could feel it in her bones.

Slowly it cocked its head and its eyes swung from side to side, surveying the room. "Children—I know—you—are in here." Its patchwork voice made Sam shudder—a feeling she felt echoed in Josh. The voice switched quickly between genders, ages, and accents. It was impossible for her to sort through them quickly enough to identify them. "Hide!—and—seek—will not work—this time." The first word was a scream. Another stolen laugh seemed to wrap around Sam and make her dizzy. A growl vibrated in the man under Sam and she tightened her grip warningly.

The thing took a step forward and swiped its hand casually through the air, claws long and filthy and visibly sharp. It hit nothing, but she saw Chris flinch. Taking another step, it swiped again. Unknowingly, it was moving towards the others. Sam wracked her brain, trying to come up with a plan.

"Let me go," Josh breathed, his entire body tense and ready. "Let me do it, Sam."

Its head swung around towards them. "What was that?—Did you have—something to—say?" Its claws cut through the air again, swiping as it took a step towards the two of them. Opening its mouth wide, it screeched. The urge to cover her ears was overwhelming. It felt like the sound was piercing straight into her brain. Its tongue darted out to lick its cracked, dry lips and it smiled. "I—hear—you, child. –You—can't keep fighting—always."

Josh shuddered again and Sam tried not to breathe. Maybe her stillness on top of him would disguise any movement he made. It was a fragile hope, but she would cling to anything she had right now.

Another vicious swipe and it shrieked again, the noise reverberating through the broken-down structure of the shed. It was almost totally dark now, but her eyes were adjusting with the changes and she could still see it clearly, caught along the edge by a white line of moonlight.

Sam gasped as she was suddenly flung backwards. Josh was on his feet before she even stopped moving. The thing's head swung between the two of them and instinctively, Sam felt her muscles lock back into stillness. The impulse lasted only a moment before she scrambled to her feet and ran for Josh again, but by that time he was already diving towards the thing. "You don't fucking know me," Josh snarled, darting around behind it as it followed, turning in circles.

"Chris!" Sam shouted. "Shoot it!"

She saw the man swing the gun all the way up to his shoulder but no shot fired. "I can't. I might hit Josh!"

He was right. She could see it, the way Josh and the thing were ducking and weaving around each other. Josh's mad laugh sounded and it took her a moment to realize it wasn't coming from Josh, but from the monster. It clawed lazily at him and laughed again, taunting the man with his own voice.

Taunting. The word was in Sam's mind before she even quite registered it. Then the thought hit home. It was teasing Josh. Playing with him. "Josh, get out of there."

But Josh knew it was messing with him. She could see it on his face, the way his jaw was fixed and his eyes hard. "If I go, it's going to get you guys."

Its mad, lidless eyes turned to where she stood. She couldn't tell if it could actually see her, given that she was fixed in place, but it certainly knew where she was last and was focused there. It was still smiling, if the painful-looking grimace could be called a smile. "Sam!" It called, in Josh's voice. "Sa-am! Sammy-Sammy-Sammybird. My Sammy. Mine."

Josh growled and threw himself forward, but it was waiting. It swatted out, not even bothering to look away from Sam, and casually backhanded Josh like a disobedient child. He landed hard on the ground.

An echoing crack tore through the air, making Sam's ears ring. Chris had taken advantage of the fighters' momentary separation to take the shot. The wendigo, caught by the impact and unsteady from hitting Josh, was thrown forward and into a dividing wall. The entire building shook ominously. The thing shrieked again and drove its claws straight into the wood to haul itself to its feet. Shaking still further, fragments of shattered wood fell around it.

Why was it so loud?

The thought seemed stupid the moment it occurred to her. Of course it was loud. There was screaming and fighting and breaking wood and general destruction. Why wouldn't it be… no. There was something else. Some other noise adding to the din. She looked around, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. It was distracting: an overwhelming and constant sound like machinery. But that didn't make any sense.

She caught Mike's look. His eyes were wide. Helicopter, he mouthed.

The thing stood and turned to Chris, who was visibly shaking. "Cochise," it said slowly. Its face was furious, twisted with an animal rage, but its voice—Josh's voice—was sad and desperately lonely.

"Chris, don't move," Mike snapped, but Sam didn't see how he could stop. Tremors like that weren't exactly a voluntary thing. And besides, it knew where Chris was.

"Put you down like the damn animal you are," it muttered in Fiddler's scratchy voice. "Fuck. No bullets."

An insane idea popped into Sam's head. She knew it was insane and would almost certainly result in her getting killed, but she didn't see many other options. Chris had, what, one more shot before he'd have to reload? She and Mike had no weapons, and Josh… she really didn't want to let Josh try to take it on, man-to-thing. At least this might give them a chance to escape.

Sam didn't give herself time to second-guess. She grabbed a piece of rebar from a pile near her. Ignoring the way the freezing metal tore into her skin, she brandished it at the thing and shouted at it. "Hey!"

The thing's head swung around, its eyes fixing on her face. "Sammy-bird…"

She scoffed at it. "Sing a new song, asshole. This whole game is getting boring. Can you even catch us? Maybe you're too old. A couple of kids giving you this much trouble?" All three men were staring at her. Josh looked like someone had just thrown a pie in his face. "Come on, buddy. Let's dance." Her stomach was in so many knots it hurt. She swallowed hard and held up the pipe like a baseball bat, ready for it to launch at her.

Instead, it laughed. "You think—the point of—this—is just—to eat?" She thought she recognized her own voice in the mix for a moment, but now was not the time. Why weren't any of the boys running? Why were they just standing there and staring at her? Didn't they see that this was their only shot to get the fuck out of this shed and not die here, trapped like rats?

Sudden silence fell over them as the background noise of the helicopter abruptly cut off. Its gaze lifted, glancing towards the direction of the lodge.

All five of them stood fixed in a bizarre tableau for a moment, then it shook its head and looked back to Sam. "Who do—you—think that was?" Its tongue darted out again, tasting the air like a serpent. "Dear—est—Mom?" It reached for Sam almost lazily. Swinging as hard as she could, the end of her pipe connected with its forearm. The force of the blow reverberated up her arms and she dropped the pipe instinctively.

The thing just laughed again—the same laugh repeated over and over again in the same intonation. Its long fingers caught around her neck, pulling her towards it slowly. The things fingers were like iron, perfectly balanced to not crush her throat but also to held her perfectly in place. She flailed, grabbing it around the wrist and trying to stop her movement. Why were the boys still here? "Go!" she choked out.

But Mike clearly had no intention of running and leaving her here. He dove towards its back. She wasn't sure what he was planning to do. Maybe just cause a diversion and distract the thing? If that was his plan, it worked. The thing caught a glimpse of his movement and dropped Sam. She collapsed to the ground, her leg crumpling painfully under her, just as it spun and caught Mike by the arm. That laugh again. Sam was going to hear that laugh in her dreams. "Boy—idiot—boy—" it hissed softly.

It twisted around Mike so quickly her eyes had trouble tracking it, yanking his arm up and behind him. Mike screamed as Sam heard the crack of bone. "Idiot—boy—"

"Chris, shoot the fucking thing!" Josh hollered, scrambling to his feet and wiping at the blood streaming down his face.

The gun cracked again, catching the thing in the hip. It howled and threw Mike away from it, still holding hard to his arm. Mike screamed again, but it was hard to see what was happening. Sam grabbed for the pipe, but Josh got there first. He grabbed it and swung—not towards the thing, as Sam would have expected, but towards a wooden support pillar.

"Grab Mike!" Chris shouted to Sam, reloading as fast as he could. The thing laughed and screamed and laughed. Why couldn't it just shut the fuck up? The noise was worse than seeing it, being attacked by it. If Sam never had to hear its copy-pasted laugh ever again, it would be too soon. She ran for Mike, ducking around Chris and dropping to her knees. Mike's face was so white it almost looked green.

The shed was weak from age and weather and rough use. It wasn't taking much, especially with part of the roof already collapsed and the damage from the wendigo's flying body, for Josh's assault on the pillar to have its desired effect. The building, or at least the part they were in, was starting to come down.

It wasn't going to be enough to bury the monster, but it was certainly distracting. Josh narrowly missed being struck by a falling rafter beam and wheeled around wildly to stare at Sam. She shrugged and jabbed her finger towards the gap in the wall. "Go!"

Sam slid herself under Mike's good arm and began to shove him to his feet. "Come on, you big lug. Come on. We have to get out of here."

"Leave me."

"Oh shut up. I'm not leaving you. So if you want me to die too, feel free to keep hanging out here, because I'm staying as long as you are." Her muscles screamed with exertion as she hauled him to his feet. He was much, much larger than she was and he wasn't doing much to help, though whether that was due to inability or unwillingness, she wasn't sure. "Come on, Mike. Come on."

In a flash, Josh was at her side. "Let me," he said quickly, and she transferred her burden. Josh, with his newfound monster powers, was stronger than she was. He was probably even stronger than Matt. He supported Mike and started towards the opening in the wall, ignoring the metal traps falling from their ceiling hooks and the shards of wood as best he could. Sam grabbed at Chris's arm. "Let's go!"

Chris got off one more shot at the thing, who lunged for him. With her grip on his sleeve, she hauled backwards as hard as she could. He stumbled back, just as the thing's hands closed on the air where he had been. A rusted bear trap, which has been hanging from a long chain, fell, striking the thing in the shoulder.

They ran. Ahead of them, Josh had given up on supporting Mike and had simply flung him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and started running. Sam and Chris pounded after him. She didn't dare turn and look back at the thing. That was always how it worked, right? You don't look down; you don't look back. Then you trip and you're a sitting duck. The only thing she might see would be the thing launching itself after her and she couldn't do anything about it if that was the case.

Don't look down.

Don't look back.

The snow crunched under her boots and she stumbled slightly, hitting a patch of ice. Still, they ran. From behind her, she heard another piece collapse and the thing howled with rage. "Get off the path!" she called to the others. They had to scatter. If they did and then played their frozen-in-place game, it might not be able to find them. It wouldn't know where they were to come after them.

"Where?" Chris asked, out of breath and frantic.

"Anywhere. Just somewhere that's not obvious!" Breaking her own rule, she glanced back. There was no sign of the thing. That could have been good news or bad. It might be momentarily stuck in the shed or it might be in the woods, running alongside them and about to pounce. Fuck. They were so screwed.

-o-

"Well… here it is," Jess gestured to the saferoom's open door. It felt like she should bow as Melinda passed her, followed closely by Hank. The woman's face was closed and carefully expressionless, her jaw tight. Had she been down here before? Or had they just closed the mountain and never looked around at what their son had done?

Seeming to realize that Melinda wasn't going to say anything, Hank nodded and smiled at the girls. "This is good to have. If these things are as scary as Jack always said they were, then we'll want this later. It's secure?"

"Yeah, as far as we can tell. We haven't tested it though." Emily had her arms folded over her chest and looked annoyed. She was probably still angry that they hadn't just choppered back down.

"That's good too, right? It means it doesn't know this is here."

"Or at least that it doesn't know you're using it," Hank agreed. He put a hand gently on Melinda's shoulder. "Mel?"

Voices echoed through the halls and Jess spun, the nozzle coming up automatically in front of her. She was so relieved to have a weapon that she knew worked. If it was going to kill her, at least she'd do some damage on the way out. The voices resonated and it was hard to pin down exactly where they were coming from, but she recognized them all the same. Glancing at Em, they shared a wide-eyed look. "Is it—"

"Or maybe a trick?"

"A trick?" Hank asked, brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"It can mimic people. Don't trust anything you hear."

Hank let out a frustrated grunt. "Things just keep getting better. Jack never told me about that. Are you sure about this?" Both girls stared at him and he raised his hands in defeat. "Sorry, sorry. Forgive a guy for hoping."

The voices were getting louder.

"I know it's this way. We saw this before."

"Did we? Ugh. I hate this. All this stuff looks the same. Another gross room with more gross fake blood."

"I'm not sure it's fake."

"Oh my god. Rude. Let me dream, okay?"

Matt's warm laugh echoed up the dark hallway and Jess flashed Em a quick grin. It was him. It was really him. There was no way the thing had cobbled together that conversation, that laugh, and timed it perfectly to match the rooms they were walking through. What would even be the point? She gave in and took off down the hallway, flinging herself into Matt's arms and knocking the breath out of him in a whoosh. "You're alive!" Her voice was muffled by his shirt, but she didn't care. Matt was alive. He was okay.

"You okay, Jess?"

She looked up at him, blinking away relieved tears. "Better now." Honestly, she cared about everyone up here now, but Matt… Matt and Emily and her… She didn't know what she would do if she lost one of them. But that didn't bear considering, not right now. They were all still alive and that was enough to keep her going. That, and the thought of taking Emily on an actual, proper date once they got off this fucking mountain. Oh, Matt was going to tease her mercilessly for this.

Ashley fidgeted awkwardly. "Hey Jess."

"Oh! Hi Ashley!" She hugged the redhead as well.

"Hey Matt," Emily waved at him and he smiled.

"Yeah right. 'Hey Matt.' Trying to play it cool, Em? Unconvincing. Come here." He didn't wait for her to move and crossed to give her a tight hug. "I'm glad you guys are here. I was… I was worried." There was an undercurrent of fear in his words that Jess wanted to question, but she held off. They should get back.

"Come on. Let's go back to the saferoom. Melinda and Hank are here."

They headed back. Ashley slid up to Matt. "Um… who's Hank?" she whispered.

"No idea," he muttered back. "I hope he has another flamethrower."

Emily grinned back over her shoulder. "Better. He has a helicopter."

"Oh fuck yes."

And yet, Hank was still unmoved by Emily's requests—demands was the better word, but Jess didn't think it was a good idea to point that out—to get them off the mountain. "It's too dark," he pointed out. "And with the snow starting up again, it's better if we find the other kids and get all of us locked up in here until morning. Then I'll take you down."

"Or what if you took some of us down and came back for the others? It's not like we'll all fit in the helicopter anyway, right?"

"If what you've told me is true—"

"It is."

"—then we shouldn't risk leaving anyone behind. Safety in numbers. After all—"

Ashley interrupted, voice confused. "Hey guys? What happened to the shed?"

They turned to look at her, then followed her shaking finger to look at one of the monitors. What had been a display of the shed with Josh's faked corpse was now a static-laden mess. What little they could see showed a disaster of broken wood.

"When did that happen?" Jess asked, looking to Em. "It was normal before, right?"

"I think so. I don't remember seeing it change."

Squaring her shoulders and pulling the flamethrower's tank back on, Jess nodded decisively. "I'm going to go check it out."

"What? Why?"

"Because," she gestured towards the screen. "Anything could have happened. We need to know. What if one of the others is there? They might need our help. I'm not going to just sit around here waiting."

Emily groaned and rolled her eyes, but pulled her gloves back on. "Fine. Let's do it."

It struck Jess that Melinda hadn't said much of anything since she'd gotten into the saferoom. She glanced at the woman, uncertain if she should say or do something. After hesitating, she crossed the room and put her hand gently on Melinda's shoulder. "Mrs. Washington?"

"Melinda," she said softly. "Just call me Melinda."

Jess hated when parents told you to do that. It was almost as bad as teachers asking you to call them by their first name. It just felt weird on her tongue. But if it would help, she'd do it. It was a ridiculous thing to be discomforted by at this point. "Okay. Melinda. Are you okay?" She shook her head. Jess was aware of the others watching them and turned slightly to block their view of Melinda's face. "We're going to find him," Jess promised, trying to sound confident. "We will. We'll go look right now."

"That's not—thank you." Melinda gave her a small, clearly forced smile. "Thanks."

"We'll be back." Jess turned to Emily. "Ready?"

"More than you are."

Hank cleared his throat. "I'm going too."

The blonde blinked at him, surprised. "Uh… you don't have to."

"Sure. But I'm going to."

"Me too," Matt said firmly.

Ashley's voice was soft and tired as she fiddled with the ends of her dirty scarf. "Okay, but we can't all go. Someone should stay here and hold down the fort. You know? Give everyone a safe place to come back to? I mean, it might be out there waiting. This could even be a trap. Maybe it messed up the shed on purpose to get us out there and—"

That line of thinking was too dangerous. Jess cut her off. "Okay. Okay. We need to go and check it out, but you're right. Um… what if Melinda and Ashley and Hank stay here?"

Emily threw her hands in the air. "We're wasting time. I'm going. Anyone who wants to go, follow along." She headed out the door, muttering about pointless bickering and who-the-hell-put-Han-in-charge-anyway. Jess hurried after her, followed closely by Matt. That felt good. Like the old days, when they were the three Musketeers, off to get into as much trouble as they could talk their way out of.

They got up the stairs just as the door burst open. Josh, holding someone over his shoulder, bowled straight into Emily, sending her stumbling back down the stairs. "What the fu—"

"Move!" Josh snapped, continuing his headlong descent.

Sam and Chris were moments behind him, panting as they threw themselves through the doorway. Sam caught herself on the wall and spun, slamming the door shut and fumbling for the lock. Her fingers, pale and almost blue with cold, couldn't quite grip it. Matt brushed her hands out of the way and threw the lock in place. "Sam, are you—"

She shook her head, gasping for breath and clutching at her side. "Get to the saferoom. I don't know where it went. We need to get somewhere safe. Now."

Josh was already gone, Chris sprinting after him. The rest of the group followed. Jess held the nozzle of the flamethrower tightly, her knuckles white. It felt like her heart was lodged in the hollow of her throat, making it hard to breathe. I don't know where it went. She glanced uneasily at every corner they passed, up at the ceiling, down every open hall.

They reached the saferoom only moments after Josh and Jess froze in the doorway. Mike had been deposited on table; his head dropped to the side limply, his eyes closed. He couldn't be—but then she saw his chest move. Alive, then, if unconscious. And his arm… She glanced down and her stomach heaved. His arm was a ruin. She'd never seen anything like it. It was like it had been caught in machinery or something—it bent in several impossible angles, the forearm broken and bone jutting out, while his bicep was torn and twisted, skin split and muscle crushed. She was glad he was unconscious.

There was so much blood.

Emily tugged her into the room and she followed numbly. She heard someone shut the door and slam the bolt into place, then a metallic scraping as a filing cabinet was dragged into place blocking the door further. "Hey," Em muttered. "Snap out of it."

"Mike…"

But Hank was already rushing to his side as Josh backed away quickly. "Do you have a first aid kit at all?" Hank asked, rolling up his sleeves. "Anything at all would be good right now."

Sam fumbled in the remaining supplies and pulled out a largely depleted hiking first aid kit. She tossed it to Hank, white faced and looking like she was seconds from passing out. Her eyes flicked to Mike and she looked away again quickly, her face pained. "I'm not sure we have anything else down here. There's other stuff in the house, but…"

"No," Hank agreed. "No one should leave right now." His voice was even and measured. Jess wondered who he was and what he had done before coming up on this mountain with them. Melinda didn't seem surprised that he was taking over, even if the rest of the group seemed a bit uncertain. He started going through the bag, pulling out the contents. "I need someone to help me."

Everyone looked to Sam, but she was frozen in place, still staring decidedly at nothing. Matt quickly stepped forward. "What do you need?"

"Put pressure here," Hank directed, handing Matt a spare shirt and pointing at the worst of the bleeding. "Press hard."

Matt leaned into it and Mike whimpered, his eyes moving wildly behind closed lids. Hank pulled out a pocket knife and began to strip away Mike's shirt from the shoulder seam.

Not sure what she could do, Jess turned to look at the monitors, searching for any sign of the thing. The camera in the shed had finally given out completely and was a solid mass of static. She fiddled with the side of the monitor to turn it off. The other screens were all calm and almost peaceful. There was the room with the trap for her and Emily. There was the one with the table for Chris and Ash. Was Matt's prank on here? Was Mike's? Behind her, she heard Mike let out a strangled groan of pain and someone let out a soft sob. It felt voyeuristic to watch.

After several long, tense minutes, Hank straightened and frowned. "Okay." Jess turned back. A belt was closed tightly around Mike's upper arm, secured with a long piece of broken wood. Matt's hands were red and wet; he looked more than a little stunned. But Mike was breathing. That had to mean something.

"Are there blankets?"

Hank's voice snapped her out of it and she rushed to grab one of the blankets in a heap against the wall. Ashley grabbed the others and together they covered Mike with them, tucking them around him as securely as they could. There was a soft sound as Sam cleared her throat and looked at Hank. "Is he going to live?" Her voice was calm, almost flat. It was hardly even a question. She had already assumed Mike was going to die. Jess fought the urge to go hug the other girl, to try to comfort her.

"Maybe," Hank rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I honestly can't say. The sooner we can get him down off this mountain and to some real medical care, the higher the chances. I'm not sure about saving his arm. How—how did this happen?"

But Sam didn't seem to hear the question. She walked to Mike's side and carefully reached down to brush a streak of dirt off his forehead. Chris spoke up instead, his voice hoarse. "The—" He cleared his throat and tried again. "The thing found us. It had us trapped in the shed. Didn't matter if we stayed still because it knew we were there so it was just wandering around with its arms out to get us. We barely got out."

"How did you get out though?"

"Property damage and idiocy," Josh muttered. Seven sets of eyes turned to look at him. He looked uncomfortable from the sudden attention and shrugged, keeping his face angled to hide the twisted side of his mouth. "We're all idiots who did idiotic things and it happened to pay off. Except for Munroe, I guess."

Sam crossed the room in a flash, slapping Josh hard across the face. He didn't even flinch, just took the blow, watching her without expression. "Why do you keep doing this?"

"It wasn't meant to be a joke," he said quietly. "Sorry. Also, stop hitting me."

"Then stop being a dick."

"I wasn't trying to be a dick. I'm sorry," he repeated.

Again, Jess felt like she was intruding on something private just by watching. Fortunately, Hank spoke up again, glancing at Emily. "I take back what I said before. We need to get him off this mountain now. We're all together. I say we go."

"But not everyone will fit, right?" Ashley asked.

Josh pushed away from the wall and turned his head towards the light, showing Hank his face. "Can't make it, Hank. I have a pressing engagement and it would be rude to cancel, so I'm gonna have to stay here." He smiled. "It's fine though. Get them out of here."

"Josh—" Melinda, who had been quietly watching, stood and crossed to him. "I'm not leaving you up here."

He snorted. "You should. You're going to die if you don't."

"Watch your tone. I'm your mother. You can't tell me what to do."

"There's a cure, anyway," Ashley commented, then flinched as Melinda's head snapped around to look at her. "Um… well… we think there is? It's in the Flamethrower—Jack Fiddler's journal. And we need you for it."

"A cure." She rounded on Josh again. "There's a cure and you're trying to convince me to leave?"

"Hey!" Hank shoved himself between them and held up his hands to keep them separate. "Josh, we're not leaving you up here. Mel, calm down. We'll figure it out. We'll all get off the mountain and then we'll figure it out."

Something shifted on the monitors and Jess turned to study them. The thing, moving fast, tore through the upstairs bathroom, ripping the doors off the cupboards. It lifted its head and she saw its mouth open soundlessly. Then it turned slowly and approached the camera. One long-fingered hand reached out. The picture shuddered and jerked, then went to static.

She swallowed hard. "I—ah. Guys, I don't think we should go up there right now."