Chapter Text
I step off of the bus at the foot of Blackwood Mountain. “Yeah,” I say into my phone, “yeah, Ash, I’ll be fine,”
“Just…be careful,” she says, “and come back soon,”
“I will,” I say, “after we find Josh,”
She sighs. “Why do you want to find him?” she asks, “After what he did?”
“He didn’t hurt anyone,” I say, “He scared the hell out of us, but he didn’t kill anyone. And…he’s my best friend. I can’t just leave him on the mountain to die,”
“Or worse…” I hear her mutter, “Okay, I’m going to hang up now,”
“Okay,” I say, “Love you,”
“Love you, too,” she says, and I hear the beep of her hanging up.
I sigh as I put my phone away. She’s right. Something worse than death could have happened to him by now. It’s been at least a week since the police had stopped questioning us about what happened up at the lodge, and the questioning itself took a few days. Josh…Josh could have done something terrible in that time.
“Hey! Chris!” I hear Mike yell from a little bit further up the path, “I’m glad you could make it!”. He’s wearing jeans, work boots (steel toes I’m guessing), and a heavy-duty black coat.
“Hey, Mike,” I say, waving to him, “Where’s Sam?”
“A little bit further up the trail,” he says. He walks up to me and hands me what looks like a caulk-gun modified to spray a hairspray can, and a lighter. He has a similar contraption on his belt, along with a handgun.
“What’s this?” I ask, taking it.
“It’s as close to a flame-thrower as I could get,” he says, “There’s still Wendigos up here. I just want us to be prepared. Sam has one as well,”
“Oh,” I say, “Let’s just hope none of us set each other on fire,”
Mike laughs slightly, and he shakes his head. “Yeah,” he says, “let’s hope,”. He starts to walk up the trail, and I follow him.
We meet up with Sam further up the trail, about halfway to the cable-car station. She’s wearing jeans, snow boots, and a dark red parka. Hanging from the belt of her jeans is a “flamethrower”. “Hey, Chris!” she says, waving at me, “How are you?”
“I’m alright,” I say, “So…if Josh had…has…whatever…the key to the cable car station, how are we going to use it?”
“We’re not,” Mike says, turning to the woods next to the path, “There’s an entrance to the mines this way,”. He starts to tromp through the underbrush, along a path that has probably not been used in a while. “Keep your weapons ready,” he says to us, “And keep your eyes peeled. The warning signal is ‘Monarch’,”
“Is that like a safe word?” I joke.
Mike laughs. “Kind of,” he says, “It’s more of a signal for if you see a Wendigo. It tells us to stop in our tracks,”
I nod.
“Why do you two always have to mess around?” Sam asks, “‘Safe Word’? What are you, twelve?”
“I think it’s good that Chris can still crack jokes,” Mike says, “If it keeps him calm, let him,”
“What about you?” Sam asks, “Why do you clown around?”
“Same reason,” he says, “It keeps me from utterly freaking myself out,”
Sam just nods.
Mike’s leading the three of us, Sam’s in the middle, and I bring up the rear.
Occasionally, I see a squirrel or a bird, but other than that, nothing. No movement. No sounds. Not even a breeze. It’s like the mountain itself is holding its breath.
“Something doesn’t seem right,” Sam hisses, probably to Mike, “We should go back,”
“No,” Mike says, “We’re nearly there,”
As we approach the mine-shaft entrance, I can feel a cool draft. First against us, then pulling us toward the cave, like a monstrous gaping mouth taking slow, silent breaths. I stop in my tracks, wild thoughts running through my head. Why hadn’t any wendigos come after us yet? Where’s Hannah? Why is the mountain so silent?