The saw whirs to life and a grinding sound fills the room. My arms ache, the weight of my body pulling them as I hang suspended in the air. I don't know how long I've been hanging here as I only woke up minutes ago. But judging from the ache of my arms and the snow that has melted into water on my hoodie, I've been here I while. I call out Chris' name yet again. I know he's there, but I can't hear him over Josh's screaming, my own screaming, and the thumping of my heart. The saw is stained red, as though this is not its first time cutting into a human. I almost vomit at the thought. Chris calls out this time, saying that he won't let me die. I almost cry in relief, but that relief turns almost instantaneously to horror. The saw begins to move towards Josh, who hangs next to me. Suddenly my hearing stops working as the world moves in slow motion. I see Josh's face, the fear in his eyes and he screams something at Chris that I cannot hear. The saw inches closer to his body and my mind goes blank. Only one thought crosses my mind: close your eyes. I close them as the saw makes contact with Josh's body. My hearing works again just in time to hear him scream. Suddenly I'm covered in a liquid, as though someone has thrown a bucket of paint on me. I scream.

My head jerks off my chest. The blood from Josh earlier has dried on my clothes, on my body. My eye stings and I find I can't open it all the way. Chris sits across from me, looking at my eye with a rage in his. Suddenly his voice breaks and his eyes fill with tears. He pours his emotions about me out onto the table and it takes all of my willpower not to cry. A voice washes over the room filling me with dread and I finally notice the gun resting on the table. My arms are strapped to the table and I can't move as I watch Chris reach for the gun. He looks at it, then with no hesitation what-so-ever, he puts it to his head. I plead with him, I beg him to let me save him. I can't live with another person dying for me. But he looks up at me, his eyes holding the feelings he's too stupid to tell me: Sorry. I love you. Then he pulls the trigger. I scream.

These memories flash before my eyes as the chopper circles the remnants of the house, kicking up snow and ash. Mike runs over to Sam to help her get up. She grimaces, the back of her jacket torn and burnt. I run over and grab some snow and press it on her back where several third degree burns appear from beneath her destroyed jacket. She whimpers and leans against Mike as I attempt to cool her skin. Most of my injuries are few and minor, save for my eye. At least… The physical ones. My mental injuries far proceed those of Mike and Chris and Sam and Em.

Mike is in horrible condition, the bandages where his some of his fingers used to reside are bloody and falling off. Em isn't as bad, though her bite is definitely hurting her. Sam's burns are the worst, the rest of her injuries being numerous cuts on her hands from the rocks and cuts and bruises in other locations. Chris' leg is screwed and the bruise on his head is ginormous, but he is otherwise good. He stands up to wave at the helicopter. There's no need, the broken house is possibly the biggest signal fire in history, but none of us say this out loud. We all understand, the urgency to get off this damn mountain resides in all of us and even though I know the copter sees us, I take one hand off Sam's back long enough to wave up as well. A man inside the metal-machine waves back at us, and I just collapse on the ground in a sea of happiness and relief. Chris jogs over behind me and squats down to my level. He gently wraps his arms around me and buries his face in my back-right shoulder. I lean back into his hug and put my hands on top of his.

"It's okay," he murmurs next to my ear, "we're safe now." He squeezes me tighter. "Nothing can hurt us anymore."

I gasp, tears popping up in my eyes as I squeeze his hands. I can't cry yet. I have to get off this stupid mountain before I cry. Someone in the chopper has a megaphone and shouts down to us above the wind and noise.

"It's okay kids! We're here now! There's a clearing very close to the lodge where we are going to set down. Stay right where you are! We will park the copter and get over to you as fast as humanly possible. Wave if you heard me!"

We all enthusiastically wave up and the chopper turns to set down in the "clearing" near the lodge. Sam and Mike plop down next to me and Chris. I resume icing Sam's burns as she leans against Mike. She tries to be so strong all of the time, the glue that holds us together, the one who always forgives after a long enough time. But now, even she can't be strong as she leans every ounce of her being on us. I take one hand off her back and dry it off on my thigh, before rubbing the top of her head. I pull her in for a little hug and she obliges, putting her head on the same shoulder Chris was leaning on earlier. Chris moves behind me, leaning his back against my own in a sitting position. Together, we support each other, leaning against each other. The other hand not rubbing Sam's hand sneaks around to find Chris'. Is finds it and squeezes it tight. Chris squeezes the hand in return, and I feel a flutter in my chest. I lean my head back onto his shoulder and close my eyes. Em sits a little way away from us, a scowl on her face. I feel bad for her, we did almost shoot her. Chris waves his arms, beckoning her to come over to where we are sitting. She frowns and reluctantly walks over, though makes a point by sitting four feet away from us.

It takes the rescue team eight minutes and twenty-seven seconds to find us. I know because Mike reminds us how much time has past at the top of every minute. I actually start counting and match his pace at around the four-minute mark, though I keep my tallying mental. The sudden sound of bodies crashing through the forest cause all of us to tense up. Mike jumps to his feet, his hand hovering at the machete kept in the loop of his jeans. Chris gets into a crouching position and grabs the branch sitting next to him, preparing to brandish it like a sword.

An inward laugh at this. As kids, he, Josh, and I would sword fight with branches and other various pieces of wood we would find in backyards and at the parks. Hannah and Beth would jump in with us sometimes, as well as Sam. The best was when all six of us would be sparing off, teams or otherwise, with fake war paint and trash can lids as shields. It was always a game, an activity to pass the time with. Even though I would get hit in the hand sometimes, I was never in any danger. Oh how I wish I could go back... Because now, if something's out there in the woods ready to kill us, the only thing to stop it is a rusty knife and a dead tree limb. More crashing sounds can be heard from the trees and I pull Sam close, holding on to her with all of my life.

A caribou leaps from the trees and runs off into the distance, snow flying as it prances past us. From the forest from where the carabao appeared, a man in a cowboy hat, jeans, and a camo shirt appears, gun drawn. He sees us, tucks the gun into his belt, and yells for his friends.

"Guys!" He smiles at us as he calls out into the woods. "I found 'em!" He is the man who yelled at us from the chopper, middle aged with gray-sprinkled brown hair and blue eyes. Once he finishes calling his friends, he turns and runs over to us. Mike, Chris, and Em stand up as he nears, Chris throwing aside his branch-stick. All of us have tears of joy on our faces as he nears, and Chris runs up to meet him.

"You okay mist-" his voice is cut-off as Chris pulls him in for a big hug, which is awkward since the guy is even bigger than he is. The man laughs, patting Chris on the shoulder, but his eyes are full of worry as he really looks at us for the first time. Broken bodies. Bloody hands. Empty eyes. We look like crap. He walks over to where Sam and I are and I see Chris tense up, eyes flickering over to mine. But the man means no harm, crouching down so he can better see Sam's burns. He whistles low and grabs some snow to help me apply on her back.

"Smart of you to do this kid," he says with a very southern drawl. How in the world we managed to find The Great Canadian Mountain Cowboy I have no idea, but I'm so relieved at the presence of someone who actually knows what to do, I would be fine with him even if he was a pirate for god's sake.

"My name is Lawson, and the others should be here any moment. Who was the one who called the station from the tower?" Em puts up her hand and Lawson nods his head. "Good job kid. We tried to reconnect about an hour ago, were you into the lodge or something?" Em shook her head.

"No sir," her voice is shaky, "the tower collapsed."

Lawson looks up at her with shock plastered across his face. " Jiminy Christmas! Was anyone on the tower when it fell!" Em looks down at her feet. "Yeah… Me and my boyfriend Matt."

He stares at her in shock but surprisingly, he looks as though he believes every word she says. "I'm assuming Matt isn't one of these gentlemen here?" Em can't respond, so Sam speaks up for her.

"No. I'm Sam, that's Chris, Mike, Emily, and Ashley. Matt fell into the mines according to Em. We're also missing Jessica who also fell and Josh, whose family owns the mountain. We… we believe them all to be dead."

I don't know how she manages to get that last part out. Jess was an ass sometimes, but other times she was really nice. Matt was kind to everyone, like Sam. He had to be, to put up with a girlfriend like Em. And Josh… He was relatively close to me and super close to Sam and Chris. My head still reels with the fact that he's gone. Even though he pulled this horrible prank on us, he didn't know about the wendigos. He never meant to hurt us, as sick and twisted as he was. He just felt so alone after Hannah and Beth died… We all did, but it respectively hurt him the most. Now he and two others are gone.

Lawson stares at Sam, his eyes full of sadness. He looks around to see Mike and Chris and Em looking at their feet, eyes brimming with tears. The he turns to look at me, staring into my eyes, into my soul. He can tell how broken I am. "... May God have mercy on your souls," he whispers.

We all look up at him as the other rescuers break through the brush. Everyone turns to look at them, but I see. I see Lawson wipe a tear away, his blue eyes gray and cloudy. The one leading the charge is a girl who can't be older than us, with caramel-colored hair and Lawson's blue eyes, with about seven, no... eight others following her. Her eyes search our faces and her right-hand flies to her mouth. Her eyes fill with horror, flicking from person to person. The boy on her left, again, close to our age, subtly grabs her hand, his mouth agape. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," he mumbles, not loud enough for us to hear, but the movement of his lips could indicate nothing else. Suddenly, the girl's eyes harden and she runs over to us, dragging the boy by his hand and the others following. She runs over to Mike, the closest and begins to expect the damage.

"I'm Piper," she says while inspecting his face, checking how deep the cuts are. The boy who was holding her hand runs over to Chris and begins checking his leg. "That's Toby," she says, jabbing her thumb at the boy telling Chris to sit down. Chris obliges, sitting down hard and leaning back on his hands. When Toby tries to roll Chris' pant leg up, Chris moans in pain and Toby stops. The other seven spread out to help us. A man looking about Lawson's age goes over to Mike and begins inspecting his hand. A girl looking in her mid-30s goes over to Em and shines a flashlight on the bite. Two men also in their mid-30s run over to Lawson and Sam and I, while the remaining three pull out their handguns and turn so that they can shoot anything coming out of the forest… Or us. One of the guys who nears us has an emergency supplies kit and the other calls out to Lawson as they near.

"What's the damage with the girls?" He shouts above the wind that just picked up. Lawson shakes his head and stands up, turning Sam so that she's lying on her stomach across my lap, her burns facing up.

"One has third-degree burns, multiple cuts and bruises along her hands and arms, and a few cuts on her head. The other has a black eye with cuts also around her eye, cuts on neck, and she's covered in blood. It can't all be hers, but due to they way she's holding herself, there has to be either cuts on her front, bruises, or broken ribs. What about… Mike, Piper? Joel?"

Piper and Joel don't stop examining Mike as Piper responds. "Black eye with cuts as well. Cuts all along his face and neck including one on his lip that will require stitches. He's sustained burns as well, though minor compared to hers. Bruised ribs, possibly cracked. Als-"

Joel cuts her off. "There are shards of glass in his right palm. His left hand…" he sighs. "Jesus. Some of his fingers are missing. Pinky and ring finger are both missing some of the carbs and his middle finger is covered with cuts. We're gonna need a metric fuck ton of hydrogen peroxide for him alone. Toby, how's blondie?"

Toby lets out a nervous chuckle. "He could be better. Major cut to his brow and showing signs of having been knocked out multiple times in multiple ways. Evidence of violence and drugs, so we won't rule anything out. His leg is fucked, he either broke his ankle and his fibula or he pulled a shit ton of tendons. Like I said, he could be better. Stacy? How's your gal?"

Stacy, the girl with Em looks pretty positive. "Nothing bad. A couple of scratches and minor leg damage, most likely from falling and landing improperly. The only thing that concerns me is a wound on her upper right side. It looks like a bite, but definitely not bear, wolf, human, or bird. It's strange… Irregular."

Lawson nods his head then turns back to Sam and I. "Can you girls walk?"

Sam and I nod our heads and stand up. Em leans on Stacy and Mike walks over to her, Joel and Piper following and ready to catch him if he falls. The guards come over as well, placing themselves around our little group. Chris is having some difficulty standing, attempting to get up while both his leg and Toby keep him on the ground.

"Guys," Toby calls out as we near him, "I don't think it's safe for Chris to walk. Any walking can further damage his leg."

Lawson sighs and briskly walks over to Toby, Joel following just behind him. Together, Lawson and Joel get Chris onto Toby's back piggy-back style. Even with all of this shit going on, Chris still manages to smile and wave as he rides Toby. "How doth the winds fare thy travelers? I would stay, but my palace awaits. High-ho Silver!" Chris pats Toby on the head, signaling him to go faster. We all laugh as we keep walking, Toby walking slower than the others. Suddenly, he neighs and arches his back, almost throwing Chris off, and charges forward through the snow. I giggle uncontrollably at Chris's shocked and confused expression as he races past us. Even though Chris had been through so much, he's still able to keep us laughing. That's what I adore about him: the bad puns and funny attitude. When life hands Chris lemons, he doesn't make lemonade. He attempts to juggle the lemons, bringing joy to others and to himself.

Suddenly, the laughing stops as Toby is standing stock-still ahead of us at the top of a hill. He and Chris are both making whimpering sounds in the back of their throats, unmoving. Joel runs up to join them, and stops himself. "No," he mutters, "that's impossible. We were here five minutes ago.

We all run/limp fast up to them. Before I look over the hill, I look up at Chris. His eyes are unmoving and filled with fear as he stares unblinking down the hill. The others are looking down the hill, their breaths caught in their throats. I put my hand on his arm, and turn my head.

There, in the clearing, are caribou. Dozens of them. I start to whimper too, burying my head in Chris arm. Toby slides him gently off his back and Chris grabs me, pulling me into a hug. I close my eyes and whimper into Chris' jumper. He strokes my hair with one hand and rubs my lower back with the other, whispering "It's okay… It's okay" over and over again. I can't get the image out of my head, I will never be able to get the image out of my head. Because the dozens and dozens of caribou… None of them have heads.

Got to love a little suspense, even 1 chapter into the story. But yeah... if anyone reads this fic, great! If not, I won't hold it against you at all. Though technically if you never read this, you'll never see the message. Meaning anyone reading the message is technically reading my story! Well, whether purposefully or nah, thank you! I'll try to post regularly... *nervous chuckle* See you guys on the flipside! :)