Chapter Text
Drip. Drip. Drip.
There’s a leak somewhere overhead; Chris can hear the water droplets hitting the plastic ceiling tiles above. Other than that, nothing but the sound of his own breathing. It’s been a week or two since Mike was dragged kicking and screaming out of their cell for trying to pick a fight with the guards. Chris hasn’t seen him since.
There are worse places to be held, his inner optimist tells him. Admittedly, the guards aren’t too rough with him when he has to be escorted somewhere, and some even give him small objects to amuse himself with like nubs of white and blue chalk, and a deck of cards. Every couple of days he gets to see the others (minus Mike) in the communal lunchroom. And he hasn’t been tortured yet. That’s the selling point for sure.
His inner pessimist snaps at that part of him to shut up. They still don’t know what’s happened to Mike, or why they’re even being held here apart from the vague “research” muttered in their general direction. Jess is freaking out, Ashley’s shutting down, and he can hear Matt crying in the room on his left every night.
Their families think they’re in emotional rehabilitation. No one is coming for them. They’ll have to escape on their own.
Tap tap tap. The sound comes from the wall between his cell and Emily and Ashley’s. A signal. He hastily clambers back into the metal framed bed pushed against the wall, taps to pass it on, then tries to act like he’s asleep. There’s someone shouting down the hall, accompanied by the sound of metal clanking. He jolts as the cell door bursts open and the guards throw a kid his age onto the floor. With a slam the door closes again, leaving them in the flickering dimness.
“Wait! Shit…” The guy puts his head in his hands and sobs, scrunched into a ball with his knees pinned to his chest.
Chris sits up. “Uh, hey…” Instantly, the stranger’s head shoots up and he scrambles into the furthest corner away. “Whoa, whoa, easy. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He holds up his hands in a placating manner. Why is he here? Is he some poor trespasser who wandered up the mountain and got caught in this wendigo business? “I’m Chris.” He offers. “What’s your name?”
There’s still a flicker of distrust in the other’s eyes, but he relaxes slightly. “B-brad.” Chris smiles as reassuringly as he can.
“Well. Hi, Brad.” A few weeks of isolation have not helped his social skills in the slightest, he thinks. There’s a moment of awkward silence. “So, you, uh… wendigos, yeah?”
“Wendigos?” Brad repeats, utterly baffled. Chris quickly backtracks.
“I mean… is that not why you’re here?” Brad shakes his head and gives him a strange look, but he doesn’t look terrified out of his mind anymore, so Chris will take one for the team.
“No…? Me and my brother and a few other people were going on a diving trip and we ended up on an abandoned ship that had this really dangerous chemical on it. It basically makes you hallucinate crazy stuff. After we got picked up all these official-looking people started asking us questions and then we got taken here.” He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. “I just want to go home, man.”
Chris hums and nods sympathetically. “I feel that.” He hesitantly moves off the bed and approaches the other, crouching down to pat him reassuringly on the shoulder. “If it helps, I’m here for a pretty crazy reason too. We went up Mount Washington and there were actual wendigos trying to eat us. My best friend, he… he didn’t make it.” Poor, poor Josh… “I miss him so much.” He grits his teeth and ducks his head, telling his watering eyes not now.
“M’ sorry.” Brad turns and wraps his arms around Chris, seeking comfort. The blonde reciprocates by reaching around and rubbing small circles into his back, like he would do for Josh. They hold each other for a long moment. “So wendigos are real, then?” Brad mumbles into Chris’ neck.
“Yeah dude.”
“Huh.” He reluctantly untangles himself from Chris and clears his throat. “So… what do they want from us? To make sure we keep all this stuff secret? Are they… gonna kill us?”
Chris shakes his head. “I’m not sure. But they haven’t really done much so far, apart from asking us about our experiences. I don’t think they’d go through all the trouble of keeping us here if they wanted to kill us.” He stands and offers his hand. “You can take the bed over there, okay? Technically it’s my friend Mike’s, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you used it. Tomorrow we’ll probably see everyone at lunch, so you should get some sleep.”
“Okay, I will. Thanks, man.” Brad goes to lie down on the dirty mattress, sneezing when a cloud of dust rises from the pillow. “Ugh, I’m leaving this place a bad review on Yelp.”
They both laugh, and the primitive part of Chris’ brain sparks with joy at the company.
~
“Who’s the new guy?” Sam asks as he gestures for Brad to take a seat. The menu for the day consists of canned peas, bowls of chicken broth, some sort of crusty bread and orange and pear slices. Jess eyes Brad suspiciously from the other end of the table.
“Relax, he’s in the same boat as us,” Em drawls, waving her hand. “I saw him and a few others being dragged in here.” She narrows her eyes at the confused looks the others give her. “What? Our door is the only one with a window, remember?”
Em’s the one who had devised their signal system, so of course everyone remembers. Whenever she or Ash spots someone approaching out of their tiny window, they’ll run and tap the walls to let the others know. Brad perks up at her words, and turns to her with his wide eyed gaze. “Did you see where they went? Is everyone okay?”
“Yeah, everyone looked fine, just upset. They’ll probably show up in a bit.” She looks him over. “What’s your name?”
A round of introductions ensues. Em and Sam are intrigued by Brad’s story, while Matt is mostly ambivalent. Jess asks about how they got here, likely trying to devise some sort of strategy for escaping. Ash is noticeably quiet; Chris tries to get her attention, but she seems lost in her thoughts.
Brad’s halfway through his story about being captured by pirates when a guard enters and gestures for him. “Dr. Niece would like to ask you a few questions.” He shoots Chris a panicked, questioning look.
“You’ll be fine,” Chris promises, patting him on the back. Brad nods, a look of determination crossing his face. He follows the guard out of the room.
Seconds after he leaves, a familiar face walks in with another guard. “Hey guys, miss me?”
“Mike?!”